Page 106 of Without Apology

EPILOGUE

Simon

It was official. I was a Texan. One with a British accent and whose love of football was called soccer in the States. At least I now owned a pair of cowboy boots and over the last year could say I’d come to tolerate country music. That ought to lend to my street cred.

Even a year ago, who would’ve thought I could ever be so happy living in a suburb of Dallas? But I was. Despite Peyton’s propensity for being late, her clutter, and the way she threw things into the dishwasher like an animal—messing with me because she knew I’d have to go behind her and arrange everything carefully—I was undeniably in love with her. Her yang to my yin made me appreciate so much more in life. I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of it with her. We’d promised as much with our vows yesterday in front of our friends and family. And of course, Cooper had also been part of the festivities, with a big bow around his neck.

It seemed strange that I’d come to think of her family as my own in only a few months, but I’d become ‘Uncle Simon’ long before it was official.

In the backseat of the chauffeured car, I glanced over at my wife and then took her hand. I loved the feel of her wedding ring against my fingers. “You all right, Mrs. Granger?”

She practically beamed. “God, I love the sound of that, Mr. Granger. And, yeah I’m okay. Although I probably should’ve taken Emma up on her offer of a Xanax.”

We were on our way to the airport where we intended to take a plane to Cabo. I’d been more than fine with driving somewhere for our honeymoon, but she’d been adamant about going to a fancy resort and enjoying some time in paradise.

“Drugs would not mix well with what I have planned to take your mind off the flight.”

She lifted a brow, looking curious. A year ago, she’d braved the return flight from New York by starting with a few drinks in first class and then, while gripping onto me for dear life, sleeping the rest of the way. It hadn’t been easy, so I was proud of her for conquering her fears. That being said, I’d be the first to support her if she’d simply wanted to scratch flying off her list and never do it again. But here we were, with her adamant and me proud of her for the effort.

“What do you have planned?”

“You’ll see.” We made the turn into the airport and kept driving to the private terminal where the car stopped in front of the private plane. It was larger than we needed, but I knew she didn’t like the small ones. I only hoped she’d be okay with it.

“We’re flying on a private plane? Isn’t that extravagant?”

Although she was now well aware I was worth millions and she had money of her own, I appreciated that she remained sensible when it came to spending it.

“It is, but it’s our honeymoon, so it’s worth it.”

She leaned over and kissed me. The anxiety was rolling off of her in waves, but I hoped to change that soon. We boarded the plane and were greeted by both the pilot and flight attendant, the latter of which was happy to get us drinks right away.

“Jim has flown me all over the world. He’s a former Navy fighter jet pilot. After his service, he flew for commercial airlines before switching to private planes about six years ago.” I’d specifically requested someone I knew and about whom I could reassure Peyton regarding the flight.

As we took our seats, she looked around. “Thank you. I already feel better, although—”

She accepted her whiskey and proceeded to drain the glass midsentence, looking like she was in a chugging contest. I was a combination of impressed, turned on, and concerned.

“—that’s much better. Whoo, it really burns.”

I took a sip of mine. “I bet. Remind me not to challenge you to a drinking competition anytime soon.”

She laughed. “It really does bring back the college years.”

“Do you want another?”

She shook her head. “I think I’m good now.”

“Excellent. Come on.” I took her hand and led her to the bedroom in the back of the plane where there was a queen-sized bed.

“Wow, you really went all out. But don’t we need seat belts with takeoff and landing?”

“The bed has them.”

“Does it now?”

A whole host of dirty thoughts floated through my mind about how I could enjoy strapping her down to the bed. “It does indeed, wife. Now then, I think you should get more comfortable. I’ll turn off our phones.”

I had no problem turning off my phone these days. I no longer worked for Phillip, having left the Stone Group to pursue my own real estate interests. We’d parted on good terms, and from time to time I’d still advise him regarding some of his investments. But it was a relief to choose my own projects, select the people I worked with, and most especially, make my own schedule. Along with my new business partner, I’d started two major commercial building projects in the Dallas area, keeping me local.