Love Unrehearsed (57 page)

The sun was just starting to set when I walked on shaky knees down the beach. I held Joe’s arm as he steadied me.

I felt instant relief when I saw that Ryan was in fact standing next to the man who would be officiating our union.

As soon as I saw him there with his hands clasped in front of him, his hair gently tussled by the ocean breeze, that breathtaking smile he wore just for me—nothing else mattered. This man was my everything.

He’d been there for me through thick and thin, through the good, the bad, and the ugly. Our vows on silly napkins were framed and mounted above our bed for us to always remember and never take for granted.

As soon as Ryan took my hands in his, all of my nervous worry drifted off into the breeze.

I woke with a smile to tiny kisses peppering my shoulder. I think I actually fell asleep with this same smile on my face. I rubbed my hand over his arm so he’d know I was awake.

“Good morning, Mrs. Christensen,” Ryan said while kissing my neck. It tickled.

“Good morning, husband.” I glanced at the clock. “More like, good afternoon, husband.” I rolled over and nuzzled into his chest. “Do you think they’ll miss us if we skip out on dinner, too?”

Ryan laughed softly. “I have no desire to get out of bed. That’s why they invented room service.”

I drifted my fingertip around his new platinum wedding band; my vow of “Yours Forever” engraved inside. I was hoping that this all wasn’t just a dream. “I never gave you your wedding present.”

Ryan smiled and kissed my forehead. “I think that thing you did last night when you were on top and riding me was a wonderful gift.”

I nudged him. “Smart-ass. Hang on.” I crawled out of bed.

“Gift number two—my wife completely naked.”

I wrinkled my nose at him, retrieving the thin box I had wrapped in gold foil.

He flipped the box over, inspecting both sides. “What’s this?”

I crawled back under the blankets. “A dream.”

His eyes narrowed. “A dream?”

“Yep. Dreams only come true if you point yourself in their direction.”

He fingers combed his hair back. God, that was so damn sexy. I hoped I’d never lose my appreciation for it.

He slid his leg over, tapping me in the foot. “Is that so?”

I fluffed the pillows under my head and nuzzled back into his side. “Yep.”

“Well then, I guess we’re tossing your birth control pills in the garbage.”

He caught me off guard. “You ready for all of that?”

He shrugged. “I’m ready for whatever life throws our way.”

“Good. Now open your gift already!”

Ryan slid his thumb under the edge of the paper, tearing it off. “Gold paper, eh?”

“Yep. That’s what it is. Inside is your golden ticket, too.”

He shook the box, separating the lid. A tinge of panic seeped through me when he frowned at my gift.

“A script? You bought this?”

“Yep. TLC Productions owns it.”

He examined it again. “This is that script you were so adamant about me pushing. Tar, no one wanted to back it.”

I shrugged. “That was then. We have a meeting with Jeff Westfield at Universal whenever you’re ready to put on pants again.”

Ryan was astonished. “You got producers on board?”

I grinned proudly. “Yep. Anna Garrett’s in on it, too. Word on the street is that
several
big-name directors are interested.”

He grinned at me. “You were a busy girl.”

“Yes, I was. Sneaky.”

He pursed his lips. “You really want me to act again? After all we’ve been through?”

I rubbed my hand over his heart, noting the subtle change of pitch in his voice. “Yes, I do. It’s who you are. It’s what feeds your soul. The rest . . . the rest is just details.”

Just Rewards

Breathe—just breathe . . . Nope, holding my breath works better.

Okay, okay . . . I can do this. It’s not so bad now. Breathe again, slowly. In and out, in and out. I hope this doesn’t take too long. I don’t know how much longer I have until it’s officially too late.

My, those curtains are ornate. That sure is a lot of fabric hanging down from the ceiling. I wonder if all those lights make it hot up there?

I can’t believe Johnny Depp is sitting right behind me. This place is packed with everyone who is anyone in this business. I wonder where Bill and Ellen are sitting? I’m glad they’re here in the building somewhere. Save them another trip.

Oh damn, here comes another one. Hold on. Oh wow that freakin’ hurts! Breathe through it, just breathe. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand.

Why now? You couldn’t wait one more day . . . even a few more hours? Impatient little bugger—just like your father.

Breathe through your mouth, Taryn. No one will notice if you don’t make it look obvious.

Should I tell him?

I probably should.

If I say something now, he’s going to freak. He’s already freaking out. No, don’t say anything—not yet. I can make it. But will I be able to make it to the car?

Count. Need to count. Why didn’t I wear a watch? Oh yeah, I have on this one-hundred-thousand-dollar diamond cuff bracelet on loan from Harry Winston. Count the value of diamonds I’m wearing . . . bracelet—one hundred thousand, necklace with drop pendant two one hundred thousand, heavy earrings pulling on my earlobes three one hundred thousand . . . just breathe.

Okay, they are getting closer together. Those last two were less than three minutes apart. Tell him.

“Ryan?” I squeaked. “Honey, um, how much longer, do you think?” I adjusted my sitting position.

He looked at his watch that I got him for Christmas. “Maybe ten more minutes. Why? Are you nervous?”

“No,” I breathed out, feigning a smile. “Not nervous.”

“Tar, you’re sweating. Are you okay?” He turned his body to face me.

I breathed out through my clenched teeth. “Bad timing.”

His eyes opened wide. “Timing?”

“Yep—a few days ahead of schedule.”

“Are you saying it’s time? Like now is right
now
?”

“I can make it. But after they make the announcement . . . Mmm.”
Take quick shallow breaths. Oh shit, that hurts. I hope I don’t stain this four-thousand-dollar custom gown.

“When did they start?” he asked, trying to remain calm but not succeeding.

“Earlier,” I replied.

“While we were out on the red carpet?”

“Before that,” I whispered, trying not to moan from the pain. “When she was doing my hair and makeup.”

“Taryn! That was almost five hours ago! We need to go now. Do you need to go now? Tell me if it’s time to go now.” Ryan started to panic. He was already lurching out of his seat.

“Calm down,” I breathed between waves, grabbing a hold of his tuxedo jacket sleeve to pull him back into his seat. “We’re okay. But I suggest we don’t linger.”

As soon as I spoke, another blast of excruciating pain shot through my abdomen. I held my breath and scrunched my eyes together. They were coming on faster and harder.

“Taryn, if we need to go, we go. I’m not going to get this anyway. It’s not worth putting you two at risk.”

“You don’t know that.” I hated that he was being so pessimistic. He was brilliant.

“We can go if you need to go,” he said, already sounding defeated. “It’s all right.”

“No,” I stated adamantly, gritting my teeth. “We’re not going anywhere until we hear your name called and they open that envelope. This is your moment. A once-in-a-lifetime moment. I can stick it out.”

I breathed through my pursed lips. “But I think it’s safe to say that the little tiger and I are not going to make it to any after-parties tonight,” I said, trying to add some levity to the situation.

“Honey,” he started to argue.

“Stop. There is no way in hell we are going to miss this,” I whispered. “We have time.” I had to lie—he was freaking out enough for the both of us.

I grabbed his hand. We would go through this together, just like we’d done everything else . . . united as a team.

The enormous curtain dropped over the stage after the lifetime achievement award presentation ended.

“The camera is going to pan to us when they announce the names,” he leaned over and whispered in my ear, inconspicuously wiping the bead of sweat trickling down my neck. “Just so you know.”

“I know. The camera has panned to us before. I can see when the red light goes on. I’ll be wearing this same smile, I promise.” My smile was permanently glued in place. “But it will be bigger.”

“Are you sure you want to wait?”

“Yes, just shut up already.” I grinned at him. “I wouldn’t miss this moment for anything in the world. Well, you know what I mean.”

His shiny leather shoe slid across the floor and tapped gently into my low heels.

The music started.

“Please welcome two-time Best Lead Actor Academy Award winners Daniel Day-Lewis, Tom Hanks, Sean Penn, Jack Nicholson, and Dustin Hoffman.”

Ryan squeezed my hand and I could see he was holding his breath, too. He took my elbow in his hand and helped me stand up to applaud the actors walking out onto the stage. The five amazing and talented men each announced one of the five actors who were nominated for this year’s Best Lead Actor award.

I smiled so proudly as Ryan’s name was announced. Jack then joked that he was willing to share the sex symbol status if he had to. We all laughed when he said that if you didn’t know who Ryan Christensen was, just ask any female between the ages of six and ninety-six and they would surely tell you all about him.

Ryan, of course, rubbed his forehead while smiling.

I was so proud of him—it made enduring the pain worth it.

No matter what happened with his career from this moment forward, Ryan was now—officially—an Academy Award nominee.

He squeezed my hand tightly, holding our hands to his lips. We both stared off at the floor while each second seemed to last minutes.

“And the Oscar goes to . . .”

I held my breath while the excitement and contractions rippled through me.

Ryan was holding my hand so tightly my fingers were starting to tingle from lack of circulation.

“Ryan Christensen—
Isletin
.”

I think I screamed.

Everyone stood up to applaud—everyone. Famous directors, famous celebrities, famous musicians—the entire audience rose to applaud for him.

Ryan looked like he’d been punched in the gut. He leaned over and kissed me. I couldn’t stop smiling; I was giggling with excitement. He kissed me again, rubbing his hand over my stomach before heading toward the steps to the stage. Tears of happiness slipped from the corner of my eyes.

You could see in his priceless expression that he was shocked to have won. I hoped this overwhelming moment wouldn’t render him speechless. He was visibly shaken; at least, visibly to me. His mouth hung open in disbelief and his hand nervously rubbed his forehead as he climbed the steps.

I stood and clapped for him, enduring each painful contraction bravely as my body readied itself to give birth to our child.

I watched in awe as five of the most iconic actors of our time each shook Ryan’s hand and gave him congratulatory pats and hugs. His heroes, his mentors, the men he had admired and respected and strived to be like all welcomed him into their ranks.

Ryan stood at the podium with his beautiful gold statue clutched in his hands, still completely blown away that his dream had come true. He had finally achieved his greatest desire. His career as an artist had reached its highest peak.

“Thank you,” Ryan said repeatedly into the microphone. His eyes were locked on mine.

Everyone sat down in anticipation of his acceptance speech.

He had been dragging his feet about preparing until finally last night I made him write down what he would say if this moment were his.

“Thank you,” he said again. “I am so very humbled to be standing here in front of you all.” He scratched his forehead. He was so nervous.

Breathe, honey, just breathe.

“I didn’t think this goal would ever be obtainable, until someone convinced me otherwise and told me that dreams do come true if you point yourself in their direction.” He winked at me.