Blame Juliette for the delay and content. She had a one track mind and all she wanted was to be with her man. I'm very happy because I so desperately wanted to get this done before the sneak peek - which I'm still in shock over. Can't believe it's happening in just a few days! Please enjoy this last chapter and let me know what you think!
*Fluff warning*
I did want to note that Juliette mentions her father making paper cranes for her in 221 as she's talking to a soldier. I happened to come across that detail on a rewatch and decided to incorporate it in the story.
When she and Avery left the restaurant, Juliette was still buzzing from the party. She blew a kiss at Cadence, waving as her daughter followed Scarlett and Gunnar to their car. Avery looped an arm over her shoulder and she leaned into his side as they walked to his SUV. Her feet hurt like hell, but she didn't care. She'd had a great meal, her heart was full and her cheeks hurt from laughing.
Avery brushed a kiss against her temple before opening the passenger door and she climbed inside and buckled the seat belt, watching as her husband walked around the front of the car to the driver's side. She waited until he'd gotten in and started the engine before asking, "How long have you been planning this?"
"It's been a while," he said, glancing at her before checking his mirror. "Babe, it's your thirtieth birthday. How could we not have a party to celebrate?"
Birthdays were big deals in their household and that was mostly due to him. He treated her like a queen, lavishing her with attention and affection. That was what she loved even more than the gifts; the way he put everything else on hold for that one day.
By his standards, her actual birthday celebration three weeks before had been low-key. Breakfast in bed and a few gifts, including the dress she wore. She hadn't felt the least bit slighted because what she'd most wanted was to be with him and he'd taken time off from recording, spending the entire day with her and Cadence. They hung out in their pajamas, playing rounds of Memory and CandyLand while listening to music. Unfortunately, they were unsuccessful in getting their daughter to take a nap so they could sneak in a quickie before dinner and by the time Juliette had blown out her candles, she was aching for her husband's touch. It took two songs and a story before Cadence finally fell asleep and after giving her goodnight kisses, Juliette shooed Avery out into the hallway and closed the door behind them.
"Right here," she'd said, pushing him backwards a few steps away from their daughter's room. His back bumped the wall and she weaved her fingers into his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. "I need you right now."
"In the hallway, babe?" He'd asked, one eyebrow raised in question. But he was already lifting her so she could wrap her legs around his waist.
Overall, it had been a great day and she hadn't thought any more about her milestone birthday. Walking into a surprise party that Avery had been planning for who knows how long had been a complete shock.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked, glancing at her and then back to the road.
"I did, baby. Thank you so much. Glenn being there was…" she shook her head, unable to think of the words to describe how happy she'd been to see the man she thought of as her father. "Thank you for doing this for me," she said.
"He insisted on being here. That's why the party was after your birthday instead of before. Only time he could get away."
Juliette reached down to slide one shoe off. "I feel a little silly." She took the other heel off and moved it to the side. "You put together this elaborate plan, the family date night, the dress, arranged for Gunnar and Scarlett to take Cadence for the weekend and had Glenn there. I had no idea."
"That's kind of the point, isn't it?"
"I just feel a little off my game." She shook her head. "My instincts used to be better than that. Here I am teasing Bo about his hot date and turns out he was dressed up to come to my party. And Emily. Did she help you?"
"All I'm gonna say is Emily's a genius. And I'm not telling you anything else because I want you to keep believing your wonderful husband masterminded the entire thing by himself."
She laughed and reached for his hand so she could thread her fingers through his. "You are wonderful. A five-star husband." She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckle.
"I try." He took his eyes off the road long enough to wink at her and Juliette felt a small spiral of heat unfurl in her center. Her husband's palms brushed roughly against the steering wheel as he navigated the car towards their Belle Meade home. "Are you tired, hon?"
"No, I had a nap earlier."
"Good," he said, making the final turn into the driveway. "Up for a couple more gifts?"
"Babe, I don't need any more gifts!" She watched as he shifted the car into park. "You're spoiling me."
Her husband reached for her, cupping her chin with his hand. "Let me," he said, caressing her cheek with a calloused thumb. "You're mine to spoil." He moved his hand, sliding his fingers around her neck and leaning forward so he could press his lips to her forehead.
He pulled away and she stared at him, appreciating again how beautiful he was. Those eyes, that perfect nose and the sweet tuft of hair under his lip. He was the only man who had ever truly loved her; the one man who had taught her how to believe in love. "I'm so lucky," she said.
"Funny, that's exactly how I feel." The skin around his eyes crinkled with his smile. He gave her a soft kiss on the lips and then got out of the car, walking around to open her door.
She walked to the house barefoot, her shoes dangling from his hand as he unlocked the door. "Nothing's gonna happen when I go in, is it?" She went inside slowly, squinting into the dark living room. "There's no mariachi band lurking in the corner, is there?"
"Not this time," he said, setting his keys on the hallway table. "Maybe next year." He took her hand, leading her past the living room and into the back of the house. When they got to the record room, she sat on the couch while he searched the shelves for an album. She sat back against the cushion, twirling her hair with one finger until he finally chose one and put it on, something bluesy that she didn't recognize. Avery reached behind the couch to retrieve her gift.
"Good hiding spot," she said as she took it from him, shaking the box before removing the wrapping paper. He sat next to her as she lifted the lid. Inside was a large, black leather scrapbook. She glanced up at him before opening it, expecting to see pictures of them; maybe he'd picked up the professional photos they'd recently had taken of Cadence. But when she flipped the cover open, there was a picture of the first crane he'd made for her, the pitifully cute one he'd made from a sheet notebook paper. He'd written a note and affixed it under the picture.
#1 for you, my love. Took me five tries to get it right. This one reminds me of us when we first met - both of us imperfect, both of us made of music and determination. I'd like to think this bird could fly if it had to, that it could soar and sing at the same time. With any luck, he'll find another crooked little bird with a song in her heart and fall hopelessly, completely in love with her as I have with you.
"Avery." Juliette fought tears as she turned the page. She suddenly understood why she'd found the wayward bird in her closet earlier in the day. He'd taken pictures of all of her cranes and included a line or two with each one describing the reason why he'd made it or where it'd been left for her to find. She turned the pages slowly, reading each comment before moving on to the next. She laughed at some, like the picture of the crane that was stained from falling into her marinara sauce on one of their first dates after they got back together. Her eyes welled up with tears when she saw some of the others, like the one he'd given her after she'd had a setback in physical therapy; a black bird with a Beatles lyric scrawled across the wings in silver Sharpie: "Take these broken wings and learn to fly."
He put a hand on her leg, stopping her before she turned to the last page. "When I first learned how to make these for you, I read a legend that said if I fold one thousand cranes I'll get a wish granted."
"A thousand?" She looked up from the book at him. "Long way to go."
"That's okay. I already got my wish," he said, smiling at her. "I'm not in a hurry. At the rate I'm going, it will take me years to finish." He shrugged. "Figured one day we could look back and remember the journey."
"You are so sweet." Her fingers lingered over the page she had yet to flip, idly drumming against the picture of the 55th crane. "I'm gonna need a bigger drawer." She finally turned the last page. He and Cadence posed in the picture, both of them smiling as she sat on his lap balancing a gold crane on her palm.
Happy 30th Birthday, sweetheart. I love you. All of you - your sweetness, your rough edges. I love how you challenge me. I love that you snort when you're laughing really hard. I love the mother you are to our daughter. I love your legs. You are my everything and I'm so thankful we found our way back to each other so we could be the family we were meant to be.
"Avery, this…" Juliette couldn't finish her sentence. The gratitude and love she felt for her husband welled up in her throat and she threw her arms around his neck and held him. "I don't snort," she said when she could finally talk again.
"Yes, you do, baby," he said over her shoulder. "But it's adorable."
She sat back, holding on to his shoulders. "Thank you," she said. His eyes were warm; the color of a summer sky and she held the scrapbook on her lap as she leaned in to kiss him. That soft, grateful kiss turned passionate and the book quickly became an obstacle, blocking her from getting closer to her husband. He pulled away to move it to the floor and then there was nothing between them. She was almost in his lap, hands splayed on his chest as she kissed him, gently nipping at his bottom lip with her teeth. She lifted her head long enough to tell him to close the door. It was habit, thinking of their 4-year-old and the few steps separating her bedroom from where they were.
"She's not here, babe," he reminded her. He smirked, his fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. "You can be as loud as you want to be."
It was her turn to smirk as she reached for his belt buckle. "I'm thinking you're the one that's gonna get loud tonight."
He cocked one eyebrow at her. "Yeah?"
Juliette was always amazed by how he could make her feel so much - amusement, annoyance, arousal - with just that one simple movement. She unbuckled his belt and reached for his zipper. "Oh, yeah."
Juliette woke up the next morning with a smile on her face and a song lyric scurrying through her mind. She yawned and stretched, her legs bumping her husband's as he lay sprawled across the mattress. She didn't remember when they got to their bedroom but she knew most of his clothes were strewn on the floor of the record room. Her dress had been abandoned in the hallway, along with his T-shirt and his socks. And she could see her bra dangling from the doorknob. Lucky shot, she thought. As far as she could remember he'd been the one to take it off and toss it over his shoulder as they made their way to the bed. She sat up and reached for her notebook, wanting to get the words on paper before they disappeared.
When Avery woke up a while later she was still writing. "Morning, Beautiful," she said, stealing the words he said to her almost every day. "I was wondering when you'd wake up." She brushed his hair from his face. "You must have been in some type of sex coma."
He laughed into the pillow, "Now you're taking credit for my late morning?" He reached for her, snaking his arm around her waist. "What are you doing up so early?"
"Had lyrics in my head when I woke up and had to get them down."
He hummed a response, moving closer to her so he could kiss the top of her thigh. "Come here," he said. "Snuggle with me."
She set her notebook back on the nightstand and slid under the covers, moving so they were spooning and his chest warmed her back.
He swept her hair to the side so he could kiss her shoulder. "It's been a long time since we got to sleep in."
"I know. But I missed that early morning knock on the door." She admitted. "Her sweet little voice."
"It's me. Cadence." Avery's voice rose as he intimidated their daughter. "As if it could be anyone else." He chuckled and moved, setting a warm palm on her thigh. "Gunnar said he's gonna get her some new material so she might come home with a few new jokes."
"Good. The chicken joke is getting a little…"
"Dry?"
She elbowed him for that attempt at a joke. "You're hilarious."
"I'm hungry too." He lifted his head and glanced at the clock. "And still tired. I feel so drained."
She did laugh then, twisting around to look at him. "You blaming me for that?"
It took him a second to figure out what she was referring to. "No, I meant - well, yes, that too. But I meant the party. I was so worried something would go wrong and give it away. I didn't want the surprise spoiled for you." He moved his hand, trailing his fingers up her arm. "But since you brought it up, I have been thinking…our sex life is almost embarrassingly satisfying. I keep thinking it's going to plateau, that it can't stay this good forever, but then I'm wrong. Happily wrong." His fingers suddenly stopped caressing her arm. "Baby, please tell me you feel the same way and I'm not making a fool out of myself."
"No, I'm with you," she rolled over so she could face him. "It's amazing. Except I don't really think about it leveling out. I think it's just gonna keep getting better." She kissed him, relaxing back on the mattress as he rose up on his elbow and leaned over her. His chest was warm and solid and she brushed a thumb over his nipple, teasing him with her fingers. He moved his lips to her neck, aiming for the sensitive spot right in the crook of her neck and she squirmed, biting down on her lip as he slid his leg in between hers.
His stomach groaned suddenly, loudly enough to surprise both of them. "Sorry," he said, pulling away from her to sit up. "Did say I was hungry."
"You did, poor baby. Let's get you fed." She pushed the blanket away and sat up. "I'll just take a rain check on that orgasm."
He swatted her behind as she moved from the bed and rummaged through a drawer for a T-shirt. "I owe you," he said. "Babe, do you see my boxers anywhere?"
"Avery, I don't even know where my own underwear are," she said over her shoulder as she left the bedroom. "Much less yours." She headed for the kitchen and washed her hands as she pondered what to make. She didn't usually cook for them, since she was remarkably terrible at it most of the time, but she did know how to make a fairly decent cheese omelet. She'd gathered everything she needed and was whisking eggs in a bowl by the time he made his way in the kitchen with a pair of her panties in his hand. He made coffee and sausage and they ate at the island.
He'd just eaten the last bite of his omelet when he suddenly looked up at her. "I almost forgot," he said, wiping his mouth. "I have one more gift for you." He went to the refrigerator, poked around in a drawer and came back with a pastry box.
"You had this hid in the refrigerator this whole time?"
"I knew you'd never look in the vegetable crisper."
"Hmm, you're probably right about that." She picked at the tape sealing the box and then opened it to find that it was full of cheese danishes. "Are these…?" She glanced up at him, then back down at the pastries. "Are these from craft services?"
"They are," he said.
"Thank you, baby, but I don't understand."
He closed the lid and pushed the box away from her, then took her hands in his own. "Consider them a slightly premature celebration of your next album release, which might turn into a tour."
"I'd say it's very premature then since the album isn't even written."
He nodded. "But it's going to be. Soon. That's the thing. You've taken off some time and I think it was great for you - for us to have you here full-time. Every time we talked about you going back to work you said you weren't ready and you were fine with performing every now and then and writing for other people. When you showed me what you were working on a few months ago, that was the first time in a long time that I've seen that spark in your eye again. You're working on some great stuff, babe. Those songs are so visceral and I think you're ready to get back out there. Am I wrong?" She shook her head. "Good. That's great. Then let's write this thing, hon. Let's get in the studio."
"I want to, Avery, and I'm glad I have you for this weekend, but you're about to start two new projects. How will that work?"
"One of those is just a short EP, babe. Four or five tracks. That won't take long." He paused, waiting until she'd made eye contact to continue. "And the other album I told you I was producing is actually yours."
She pulled her hands away from his. "What?"
"When I saw what you were writing, I knew, babe." He reached for her hands again, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "That's why I've been working so late lately. Just trying to get everything else out of the way so I could I block out the time. I'm all yours. Producer/husband/co-writer."
"Seriously?" She couldn't stop herself from grinning.
"Absolutely."
She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek before hugging him. "Thank you, baby. You know how to woo a girl."
"Maybe I do," he said, resting his chin on the top of her head.