Wrapping his arms around me, Jude rolled over and cradled me to him. His breathing was just as labored as mine as our chests rose and fell to the same count.

“I love you, Luce Ryder,” he breathed, running his fingers up and down my back.

“I love you, Jude Ryder.” I looked up at him. “So . . . how was Mrs. Ryder in bed?”

That same stupid smile broke over his face. “Fucking fantastic.”

I chuckled into the crook of his arm. “Good thing. Since you’re going to be stuck making love to her until you shrivel up and die.”

“Good thing,” he said, sounding happy, satisfied, and tired. That was a powerful combo.

“So, Mr. Jude Ryder.” I lifted my head from his chest and pretended to talk into a microphone ceremoniously. “You just got hitched at the age of twenty-one, will be changing your baby’s diapers before you turn twenty-two, and just had your honeymoon on a hospital bed.” I held out the imaginary mike. “How do you feel?”

“Like the luckiest damn bastard in the world.”

I could relate.

“Well put,” I said. “Very convincing.”

He ran his fingers through my hair and stared at me like I was the most special thing in the world to him. “I must be convincing. I got you to say yes a few minutes ago, didn’t I?”

I thought of all the ways he’d gotten me to a yes. That first day at the beach, when I’d known he wasn’t good for me but couldn’t stay away. That morning at my locker, when he’d gotten me to say yes to going to Homecoming with him. His proposal at the fifty-yard line in front of fifty thousand fans. And finally, at the altar becoming his wife, when I couldn’t say yes fast enough.

“Yeah, Jude,” I said. “You sure did.”

EPILOGUE

Jude was at the fifty-yard line again, being cheered on by tens of thousands of fans, but this time it was a few games into his second season playing for the Chargers.

I was still in the front-and-center seat, cheering along with the rest of the fans.

But this time our wiggling, cooing six-month-old baby girl was on my lap. No surprise she’d had her own agenda when it came to what day she wanted to come out and meet the big world. Jude and I were her parents, after all. She was born three weeks early, and I don’t know if Jude breathed the entire twelve hours of my delivery. But he never left my side. When she finally came out, Jude could barely look away from her long enough to cut the cord. He’d cried his second tear that day. And his third, and maybe even a fourth when the doctor said our girl was perfectly healthy.

After fall semester, I moved out to San Diego to be with Jude. To have our baby and figure out our future. After she was born, life had been crazy, but I’d just enrolled in a few courses at a local college that would count toward my degree, so, slowly but surely, I’d get it done. Finishing my degree was more a matter of pride and stubborn resolve.

We’d named our little girl Annalise Marie Ryder. It wasn’t a family name; nor had we agonized over selecting just the right meaning. Jude had fallen in love with the name one night when we’d been scanning baby-name books, like, really fallen in love with it. I knew he would have backed down if I said I didn’t like it or wanted a different name, but Jude had a grand total of zero blood relatives in his life anymore. He’d earned the right to name the little girl who was half his DNA and would be forever in his life.

So Annalise Marie it was. She looked like me, but had her daddy’s gray eyes, and could form expressions at six months that were eerily identical to Jude’s.

Speaking of a certain Mr. Ryder . . . Jude got into position, ready for the hike. I was about to pop up and jump and cheer with a fifteen-pound Annalise bundle when someone tapped me from the side.

“Can I hold her, Aunt Luce?”

LJ had grown into a not-so-little man in a year’s time. He and Holly still lived in the old apartment back in White Plains, but now Thomas lived there, too. He’d proposed last month and they were tying the knot this winter. We didn’t get to see them as often as I’d have liked, but they made it out a few times a year to come to one of Jude’s games or to play at the beach, and we did our best to make it back east.

“Sure, LJ,” I said, setting Annalise on his lap, but keeping my hands close by. “She’s a little mover and shaker, so hang on tight.”

“I will,” he said, winding both arms tight around her middle. Of course, she calmed down almost right away now that cousin LJ had her.

The stadium was loud from the start to the end of the game. To help muffle some of that noise on baby ears, Annalise had her own special knit beanie she wore to every game. Unlike Jude’s, hers was pink, and she had a handful of Chargers outfits she rocked along with the jersey I wore.

I stayed seated next to LJ just in case Annalise decided to take a flying leap from his arms, and waved down the row at Sybill, who was wrestling her own four kiddos.

“I gotta tell you, Lucy,” Holly said, elbowing me from the other side, “that little beach house Jude got you for a wedding present is pretty fantastic. Just so you know, LJ, Thomas, and I are considering making the second floor our winter home. You guys wouldn’t mind, right?”

Since we were playing the elbowing game, I gave her one of mine. “No, we wouldn’t mind. As long as LJ doesn’t pee on all of my plants and Thomas picks up his dirty underwear.”

“Yeah, I don’t see that ever happening,” she said. “Darn, I guess it will just be me!”

I laughed, knowing she was partly serious—not about leaving LJ and Thomas, but about moving. They always stayed with us whenever they flew out, since we had the room, and the beach for our backyard, and when it came to Holly, Thomas, and LJ, it was truly the more, the merrier. Dad and Mom made it down to see us a bunch, too. Something about having a baby in the family was especially motivating. As a wedding present, Jude had surprised me with the keys to that beach house I’d wanted to rent for the holidays. Except instead of renting, we owned.

So we got to stay in it for the holidays last year, and we’ll get to stay in it every holiday after that. Jude had even sold his souped-up truck and had his old piecer totally rebuilt. I couldn’t call it a POS anymore, because it was gorgeous.

“How’s the dance studio coming along?” Holly asked as she watched the field.

Jude had called a last-minute time-out and was deep in a huddle with his teammates.

“Great. The dance floor goes in this week and then it’s pretty much done,” I said, rummaging through the diaper bag for Annalise’s teething giraffe she liked to gnaw on. “I’ve already got a list of dancers enrolled.”

“Those poor kids are going to go home crying after spending an hour in class with you as their teacher,” she said, smirking over at me.

“Why don’t you enroll in my adult class and I’ll make sure I send you home crying,” I replied, mirroring her smirk.

“Nah,” she said, nudging Thomas beside her. “Tights and ballet shoes are for men.”

“Damn straight, baby,” he said, pulling her close and kissing her full on the lips.

I laughed, and checked the field. They were out of the huddle and getting back into position. As yet another wedding present, Jude had purchased an old, run-down building in an artsy part of the city. He put me in charge of the design and renovation for its transformation. While I was finishing up fall semester, the dance studio came together. I’d made some solid progress with my money-issues thing. Jude had promised me that the money and the fame wouldn’t change him, and he’d been right. He still swaggered around in his Cons and Levi’s and drank cheap beer, but, most important, he still looked at me like I was his whole world. His eyes still went soft when he said, “I love you,” and he didn’t hesitate to help change a tire for some stranger stranded on the side of the road. So Jude was still Jude, I was still me, and we were still us. About the only thing that had changed was our bank account, just like he’d promised.