Page 96 of All For You

I worried Colton, our Food Channel Star, had something to do with it, but he assured me he didn’t. His connections, however, did make it easier to convince the studio I could film anywhere. Thankfully, they agreed. Only, in my mind, I had planned to film in the guest house out back behind our home in California. Not in Tennessee.

Owen rested a reassuring hand on mine, running his finger across my wedding band and the gorgeous diamond engagement ring. It had been his grandmother’s on his mom’s side, and I loved that Beverly passed it down to me.

“I’m positive,” he said.

We hadn’t shared the news yet that we were expecting. It was still early, and I was trying to navigate the television series options available while being pregnant. I convinced Owen that we needed to wait until I was through the first trimester before telling anyone, though I was certain he let it slip to our friend Marc. A three-foot teddy bear had been delivered to the house last week, and I had the damnedest time trying to talk my way out of that one when my mom saw it during our daily video chat.

“Please don’t do this forme, Owen. I know how much you love the Coyotes.”

“I do, and I’m thankful for everything they’ve done for my career. But things change. And, cricket, we—” He dropped his eyes to my stomach. “—will always come first.”

“Okay,” I whispered, unable to pull my gaze away as he signed his name on the trade agreement.

“And it’s done!”

I giggled as he stood quickly, the chair falling backward onto the floor as he wrapped his arms around me.

“Thank you,” I whispered behind my unshed tears. Though I enjoyed all the places Owen and I visited, and I adored our house, it wasn’t Ashfield. I had a major case of homesickness. And being pregnant only intensified that feeling. There really was no place like home.

“I can’t believe you’re finally moving back,” Beverly said from the couch as she swiped at the tears falling in a steady stream.

“I’m not sure if it will be Nashville or Ashfield, but either would be fine by me,” I said.

“I’m thinking that plot of land your dad spoke to me about when I asked for your hand would be perfect. I don’t mind a drive, cricket. So long as I have you to come home to.”

I placed my hands on either side of my husband’s cheeks, the diamond sparkling in the sunrays coming from the window.

“Guess I really am your good-luck charm.”

“Always have been and always will be.”

THE END