“Hey, Ava,” Jace begins, his tone cautious. Something about it makes me nervous. “I know that you’re curious about where babies come from, but wouldn’t it be more exciting to find out where you came from?” he asks.

Lexi’s smile returns, and she nods enthusiastically.

Oh no. The jerk is trying to beat us at our own game! And I realize it’s working as Ava’s eyes widen with delight. Jeremy is shaking his head in quick, precise movements at our daughter, but it doesn’t deter her one bit. In fact, I’m pretty sure it encourages her even more. She bounces in her chair, nodding her head as an evil little grin comes to life on her face.

“Yes! Great idea, Uncle Jace,” she agrees, and I watch in horror as they high-five then look expectantly at both of us.

“It’s going to be a long-ass day, indeed,” my husband grumbles beside me.

I smile up at him as a fluttering in my belly takes hold. It was only a matter of time before we had to have this talk with Ava, so we might as well get it over with as we wait for all the action to happen.

Gazing up at Jeremy, I find it hard to believe we’ve been together for so long. Each year, we’ve become stronger and more devoted to each other.

Our love hasn’t been without its trials, but everything about our entire relationship has been relatively easy. No evil queens threatened to squelch our love (not even you, Mallory Buchanan!), nor were there any malevolent forces trying to keep us apart. It was actually quite the opposite. Everyone around us wanted to push us together, even though we couldn’t see what was right in front of us. Fortunately, we weren’t blind for too long.

Our love was—and still is—fun, carefree, and unconditional. And, most of all, it’s everlasting. Still, to a six-year-old, it probably won’t hold a candle to the finest Disney princesses. But it’s ours and in my book, it’s the greatest story ever told. Or, well, waiting to be told, in this case.

So I guess it’s about time we tell it.

And don’t worry about Ava. We’ll cut out all the juicy parts. Or cover her ears.

Jeremy’s grin reflects my own, and I know he is thinking the same thing. There is no way we can tell the entire story, down to the steamiest details, to Ava. But we can tell you.

I’m not ashamed to say I’m the luckiest man alive.

I, Jeremy Jordan Banks, am the luckiest man alive.

See? No shame in my game.

As I watch my daughter and my wife tease my sister-in-law, I know it’s true. Of course, the goofy grin on Jace’s face lets me know he thinks the same about himself, and that’s okay. I won’t begrudge him for that. The truth is every man should believe he’s the luckiest. If he doesn’t…well, that’s just sad.

Still, I know I truly am.

The day Sierra Sullivan came running down the sand in her cartoon T-shirt and high ponytail was the day my whole life changed.

Sure, it’d only been eight years long, but hey—those were some good eight years. Little did I know that the next eight, the next eight, and the next eight would be even better. Don’t mind my math.

Anyways, it happened on a Thursday. That little tidbit may seem insignificant, but that’s the point. I remember every single detail with vivid clarity, as if it were yesterday. The summer when I was eight years old, I met the girl I was going to spend my life with. Did I know it at the time? Of course not. I was eight. I had no idea my life was about to change. It’s not like fireworks exploded or sparks flew the first time our fingers touched. We were just kids. But, even at such a young age, one look at the pretty, little blonde next door and I knew she was something special.

Don’t ask me how. I just did.

If I’d have known what was going to come our way, I’d have kissed her right then and there. But, like most young boys, I thought kisses were gross—until they weren’t. So I declared us the best of friends—until that was no longer enough. Until the thought of another day going by without her knowing how much I loved her was no longer an option.

You may think you know our story. And, in truth, you probably do. Boy meets girl. Boy chases girl. Boy and girl both like Michelangelo—the turtle, not the painter— and Michael Jordan and have a fear of sharks. Boy declares girl is his best friend. For years, boy and girl stay friends until girl grows boobs and boy grows…well, you know.

Boy loves girl. Boy nearly loses girl. Boy goes to the ends of the Earth—or, in our case, Ohio—to keep the girl. Boy marries girl, and they live happily ever after.

The end.

Sounds like a completely ordinary story, right? Well, that’s because it is.

But those little snippets are only the tip of the iceberg.

Sierra and I have had our share of laughs—more than the average couple, I presume. We’ve also had our share of tears. Surprising, right? To me, too. But the truth is, for all the light that’s shone on our relationship, there’s been dark. It hasn’t been plentiful—thank God—but just enough to where we weren’t sure we’d come out on the other side of the tunnel intact.

How did we?

Stick around and find out. I’m about to give you every gory, hysterical, down-and-dirty detail. Okay, so maybe not the dirty stuff.

Then again…

Why the hell not? That’s part of the fun, isn’t it? Knowing every single down-and-dirty detail? But don’t go getting any ideas about my wife. And no mental pictures, please. As much as I think every single male on the planet should be blessed to see Sierra Sullivan Banks completely nude, that body is for my eyes only.

As far as my own body goes?

She completely owns me. Sorry, ladies. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.

Ready for a blast to the past? Time to party like it’s 1999.

Actually, we’ll start a little bit earlier than that.

You already know the destination. Don’t you want to come along for the ride?

Summer of 1992

IT WAS THE WEIRDEST thing I’d ever experienced in my short life. Of course, at eight years old, I hadn’t done much more than play outside and go to school. But, still, I couldn’t remember a time my stomach had ever felt that way. It was tight, but not quite achy. Unsettled, maybe, but not exactly sickened. What the heck was wrong with me? My face was warm, my mouth dry. I didn’t get it.

Why was I feeling this way, you ask?

Easy.

It was all because of a girl.

Sierra Sullivan. My new next-door neighbor and the prettiest girl I’d ever seen.

It was the last week of summer vacation before school began. My best friend, Chris, and I were skateboarding in our neighborhood when a big moving truck pulled onto the street. We stopped and watched as it turned into the driveway next to my house, where my friend Shawn had lived. His dad was in the Air Force, and he’d moved away to Nebraska or somewhere weird like that earlier that year. The house had been empty for a while.

“New neighbors?” Chris asked.

I shrugged. “Yeah. A big van showed up over the weekend, and there have been lights on in the house. I haven’t seen anyone though.”

“Cool,” he said, and that was that.

We spent the next few hours trying to do tricks—and mostly failing. When my twin sister, Jenna, came running down the street, we made our way to the gazebo on the private neighborhood beach, ready to cool off from the hot summer sun. Not that I got in the water, but the breeze was enough.

As we built a sand castle, Jenna told us about the new neighbors she’d seen. I didn’t really care when she said that two girls our age had moved in. I figured that just meant she had someone else to play Barbies with and now maybe she’d leave me and Chris alone. I was eight. Tea parties weren’t my thing. But, since there weren’t any other girls on the block, I found myself sitting around the table from time to time.