“Pigeon?”“Yeah?”A few moments passed, and then he sighed. “Nothing.”Travis hesitated. “I can’t shake this feeling,” he said under his breath.“What do you mean? Like a bad feeling?” I said, suddenly nervous.He turned to me with concern in his eyes, “I have this crazy feeling that once we get home, I’m going to wake up. Like none of this was real.”I slid my arms around his waist, running my hands up the lean muscles of his back. “Is that what you’re worried about?”He looked down to his wrist, and then glanced to the thick silver band on his left finger. “I just can’t shake the feeling that the bubble’s going to burst, and I’m going to be lying in my bed alone, wishing you were there with me.”“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Trav! I’ve dumped someone for you—twice—I’ve picked up and went to Vegas with you—twice—I’ve literally gone through hell and back, married you and branded myself with your name. I’m running out of ideas to prove to you that I’m yours.”A small smile graced his lips. “I love it when you say that.”“That I’m yours?” I asked. I leaned up on the balls of my feet, pressing my lips against his. “I. Am. Yours. Mrs. Travis Maddox, forever and always.”His small smile faded as he looked at the boarding gate and then down to me. “I’m gonna fuck it up, Pigeon. You’re gonna get sick of my shit.”I laughed. “I’m sick of your shit, now. I still married you.”“I thought once we got married, that I’d feel a little more reassured about losing you. But I feel like if I get on that plane….”“Travis? I love you. Let’s go home.”His eyebrows pulled in. “You won’t leave me, right? Even when I’m a pain in the ass?”“I vowed in front of God…and Elvis…that I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”His frown lightened a bit. “This is forever?”One corner of my mouth turned up. “Would it make you feel better if we made a wager?”“What kind of husband would I be if I bet against my own marriage?”I smiled. “The stupid kind. Didn’t you listen to your dad when he told you not to bet against me?”He raised an eyebrow. “So you’re that sure, huh? You’d bet on it?”I wrapped my arms around his neck and smiled against his lips. “I’d bet my first born. That’s how sure I am.”And then the peace returned.“You can’t be that sure,” he said, the anxiousness absent from his voice.I raised an eyebrow, and my mouth pulled to one side. “Wanna bet?”

“I don't know what I'm going to do with you, Trav! I've dumped someone for you-twice-I've picked up and went to Vegas with you-twice-I've literally gone through hell and back, married you and branded myself with your name. I'm running out of ideas to prove to you that I'm yours." A small smile graced his lips. "I love it when you say that." "That I'm yours?" I asked. I leaned up on the balls of my feet, pressing my lips against his. "I. Am. Yours. Mrs. Travis Maddox. Forever and always.”

“I fucking love you!” He grabbed each side of my face, slamming his lips against mine. “I love you so much, Pigeon,” he said, kissing me over and over. “Just remember that in fifty years when I’m still kicking your ass in poker,” I giggled. He smiled, triumphant. “If it means sixty or seventy years with you, Baby…you have my full permission to do your worst.” I raised one eyebrow, “You’re gonna regret that.” “You wanna bet?” I smiled with as much deviance as I could muster.”

“My eyes followed my hand as Travis brought it up to his lips. “I’ve imagined what this would look like on your hand a million times. Now that it’s there….”'“What?” I smiled, watching him stare at my hand with an emotional grin.He looked up at me. “I thought I was going to have to sweat five years before I’d feel like this.”“I wanted it as much as you did. I’ve just got a hell of a poker face,” I smiled, pressing my lips against his.”

“Do your worst, Pidge. I’m tired of your shit.”I released his skin and jerked my arms, struggling against his grip. “My shit? Let me out of this fucking car!”He pulled my wrists close to his face. “I love you, dammit! You’re not going anywhere until you sober up and we figure this out!”

“Being on that pitcher’s mound, it’s the one thing I’m really good at. The one thing I haven’t fucked up. And when I’m on the field, everything else fades away. You know?” He turned to look at me, his eyes craving understanding. I smiled and he continued. “It’s like my mind is clear when I’m out there. It’s not about my mom or my dad or the stupid shit I’ve done. It’s about me, the ball, and the batter. It’s the one place in the world where I feel like I’m in control. Like I have a say in what happens around me.”I stopped my head from nodding in agreement once I realized that I was doing it. “I feel that way when I’m taking pictures. Anything that I’m not seeing through my lens fades away in the background. And I get to frame my picture any way I choose. I get to dictate how it looks. What’s in it. What isn’t. Behind that lens I have complete control in how things are seen.”He smiled, his dimples indenting his cheeks. “You get it.”