“You found a dress?” he asked, smiling.“Yeah,” I wrapped my legs and arms around him. Tomorrow it’s going to be your turn to be freaked out.”“I’m looking forward to it.”

“The suspense is killin’ me, Pigeon!” Travis called.I walked out, fidgeting with my dress while Travis stood in front of me, blank-faced.America elbowed him and he blinked. “Holy shit.”“Are you ready to be freaked out?” America asked.“I’m not freaked out, she looks amazing,” Travis said.I smiled and then slowly turned around to show him the steep dip of the fabric in the back of the dress.“Okay, now I’m freakin’ out,” he said, walking over to me “Okay, now I’m freakin’ out,” he said, walking over to me and turning me around.“You don’t like it?” I asked.“You need a jacket.” He jogged to the rack and then hastily draped my coat over my shoulders.“She can’t wear that all night, Trav,” America chuckled.“You look beautiful, Abby,” Shepley said as an apology for Travis’ behavior.Travis’ expression was pained as he spoke. “You do. You look incredible…but you can’t wear that. Your skirt is…wow, your legs are…your skirt is too short and it’s only half a dress! It doesn’t even have a back on it!”I couldn’t help but smile. “That’s the way it’s made, Travis.”“Do you two live to torture each other?” Shepley frowned.“Do you have a longer dress?” Travis asked.I looked down. “It’s actually pretty modest in the front. It’s just the back that shows off a lot of skin.”“Pigeon,” he winced with his next words, “I don’t want you to be mad, but I can’t take you to my frat house looking like that. I’ll get in a fight the first five minutes we’re there, Baby.”

“You’re going to make me dance to this, aren’t you?” he asked.“It’s Valentine’s Day, Finch. Pretend I’m a boy.”He laughed, pulling me into his arms. “It’s hard to do that when you’re wearing a short pink dress.”“Whatever. Like you’ve never seen a boy in a dress.”Finch shrugged. “True.”

“I stepped out of the bathroom in a black dress and hot pink heels.America whistled. “Hot damn, Mama!”I smiled in appreciation, and Travis held out his hand. “Nice legs.”“Did I mention that it’s a magic razor?”“I don’t think it’s the razor,” he smiled, pulling me out the door.”

“She smiled and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his neck. "I'll leave my number on the counter.""Eh...Don't worry about it," He said in a casual tone."What?" She asked, leaning back to look in his eyes."Every time!" America said. She looked at the woman. "How are you surprised by this? He's Travis Fucking Maddox! He is famous for this very thing, and every time they're surprised!”

“He walked in and fell to his knees in front of me. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I’m sorry,” he said, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his head in my lap.”

“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?”