Page 87 of Rockstar's Accidental Marriage

Frowning, I realize that we’ve never truly expressed how we feel about each other. I mean, I know he cares about me and the baby. And I care about him–even more each day that I’m with him–

My thoughts are abruptly cut off as he suddenly turns. “Come on, let’s have some ice cream.”

Sam moves around, grabbing bowls and scooping out the ice cream he bought. His movements are calm and deliberate. And for some reason, the sight of him in our kitchen—makes my heart swell with emotion.

He sets the bowl down in front of me with a flourish, offering a playful grin. “One cheesecake strawberry swirl to satisfy all your cravings.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

I laugh, rolling my eyes at his theatrics, but the gesture is endearing. “Thank you.”

We settle at the table, and I take my first bite. The creamy sweetness melts on my tongue. The way Sam watches me enjoy the ice cream he bought makes my skin tingle—there's something incredibly intimate about how attentive he is to my needs, how he notices even my smallest cravings. I shut my eyes briefly and for a few blissful seconds, all the worry, the questions, and the doubts—they all fade away.

“This is exactly what I needed,” I murmur, opening my eyes and meeting his gaze. “How did you know?”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he replies, his voice teasing. But then his tone shifts softer, more serious. “I pay attention, Em. I want you to be happy.”

Something in his words and in the way he’s looking at me makes my chest tighten. It’s not just the ice cream, the nursery, or the countless little things he does for me—it’s him. Sam, with his easy smile and quiet strength. I’ve been so focused on everything else- the baby and the trouble with the band- that I haven’t stopped to really appreciate him.

“Thank you,” I say, a lump forming in my throat.

“For the ice cream?” he quips, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes.

“For everything,” I clarify. “For being here, for making me feel... cared for.”

His expression softens, and he reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. His thumb brushes lightly over my knuckles, and the simple gesture sends warmth radiating through me.

“Always,” he says, and the weight of that one word settles over me like a promise.

Later that night, Sam turns to me. “You ready for bed, or should we check out the stars? It’s a clear night.”

I smile, charmed by the suggestion. “Star gazing sounds perfect.”

He grabs a blanket, and we step out onto the back deck. The ocean stretches out before us, a vast expanse of silver and black under the moonlight. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore is a soothing melody, and the cool breeze carries the faint scent of salt and sand.

We spread the blanket on the lounger and sit together, my head resting on his shoulder. The stars above us twinkle like scattered diamonds, and I feel a sense of peace come over me.

“I used to do this a lot,” Sam says after a while, his voice low and thoughtful. “Back when I was growing up on the farm. I’d sit outside at night and just stare at the sky. Made me feel like the world was bigger than my problems.”

We sit silently like that for a few moments, each lost in our thoughts.

“I like what we have, Em,” he says softly, turning to meet my gaze, and the sincerity in his eyes takes my breath away. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

As his warm arms wrap around me, a sudden realization hits me…

I’m in love with Sam Ryder.

My heart instantly stutters, and for a moment, I almost forget how to breathe. The thought makes me sway, and Sam tightens his embrace, his eyes on the sky. But, my thoughts are no longer on the stars—instead, they’ve turned inward. When did this happen? How did it happen?

My head feels cloudy, but then a wave of emotion sweeps through me, warming me from the inside out, and it's like everything shifts into clear focus. The warmth of his body against mine, his familiar scent, and the way his arms feel like home all means so much more now.

It doesn’t matter when it happened. Just that it did—I love Sam. I’m in love with my husband.

Knowing the truth of my feelings, I want to tell him, to tell everybody–to shout it from the rooftops. But something stops me—maybe fear or possibly doubt. I don’t truly know how he feels about me. And I don’t want to scare him–or chase him off.

As he holds me close, there’s so much I want to say, so much I want to tell him, but the words catch in my throat. Instead, I reach up, and the kiss I press to his lips carries the weight of everything I can’t say yet. I pour all of my newfound love into it.

When we finally pull away, he smiles down at me, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Scared you’re stuck with me, Boss Lady?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, resting my head back on his shoulder. “And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

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