Love at First Beat Bonus Scene

My wife smiles, and I lean down to kiss her.

“Careful,” she murmurs. “You’ll wake the baby.”

“Baby’s fine.”

“Her name is—”

“I know her name, Drew. I was there when we picked it.”

“Then why do you keep calling her Baby?”

“Because she’s my baby.”

Drew rolls her eyes.

I grin.

God, I love this woman.

When we step inside The Human Being Cafe, the familiar smell of coffee and cinnamon greets us. Delilah has apparently been baking, which means I’ll probably leave here carrying a box of pastries along with my daughter.

The ladies are already gathered around their usual table.

Roxy spots us first. “Oh, my GOD!”

Six heads swivel in our direction.

I hold up a hand. “Before everybody gets excited, I have one rule. Nobody wakes the baby.”

“Fletcher!” Jess laughs. “You brought Makena!”

“Of course I brought her. She’s a founding member.”

“Of what?” Shelby asks.

“The next generation of romance readers.”

Alex dissolves into laughter.

Drew gives me a look.

“What?” I ask. “Her mother writes romance novels. Her father received his romantic education at this very table. It’s practically a family business.”

“He’s not wrong,” Roxy says.

Delilah comes around the counter, wiping her hands on a towel. “Well, would you look at that beautiful little angel.”

I puff up like a goddamn peacock. “Made her myself.”

Drew snorts. “Excuse me?”

“With considerable assistance from my wife,” I amend.

“That’s better.”

The women laugh as we settle into two chairs at the table.

Actually, Drew settles into a chair.

I remain standing because my daughter is sleeping against my chest, and I’ve learned that sitting down at the wrong angle can wake her. And when she’s awake, she has opinions. Very strong opinions. Just like her mother.

“Can I see her?” Effie asks softly.

“Sure.”

I angle my body so she can peek into the carrier.

Effie presses a hand over her heart. “She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“She looks just like Drew.”

“She does.”

Drew smiles up at me. “And she’s got Fletcher’s eyes.”

“Best of both worlds,” Jess says.

“Absolutely,” I agree.

Roxy tilts her head. “Fletcher, are you crying?”

“No.”

“You are.”

“It’s the lighting.”

“There’s nothing wrong with crying,” Alex says gently.

“I know. I’m a cardiologist. I’m intimately familiar with the cardiovascular consequences of emotional distress.”

Drew bursts out laughing. “Baby, that’s not even remotely what we’re talking about.”

“Well, I’m trying to maintain a little dignity here.”

“You’re wearing a pink burp cloth over your shoulder.”

“That’s called being prepared.”

“And there’s a pacifier clipped to your shirt.”

“Also prepared.”

“And you’re wearing a diaper bag.”

I glance at the enormous floral bag hanging from my shoulder. “Prepared as fuck.”

The table erupts. My daughter stirs. I immediately freeze. Six women freeze with me.

Drew presses her lips together, trying not to laugh.

I gently cup the back of my baby’s head and rock from one foot to the other. “Shh, sweetheart. Daddy’s got you.”

She makes a tiny squeaking noise, wrinkles her nose, and settles back to sleep.

I exhale. “Okay. Everybody can breathe again.”

“Good Lord,” Shelby whispers. “You’ve really got it bad.”

“You have no idea.”

Delilah disappears behind the counter and returns with two coffees, setting one in front of Drew.

“Decaf,” she says. “Just the way you like it. Americano with heavy cream.”

“You’re an angel.”

“And Fletcher?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want your usual?”

“Please. But make it to go. I might have to walk around for a while.”

She nods knowingly. “Coming right up.”

Roxy leans forward. “So, Fletcher. Last time you came to book club, you needed help convincing a certain romance author to marry you.”

Drew turns to me. “Wait. What?”

Oh, shit.

I glance at Roxy.

She grins.

Traitor.

“You didn’t tell her?” Jess asks.

“No,” I say carefully. “Because I didn’t think she needed to know the full extent of my humiliation.”

Drew folds her arms. “Fletcher.”

“Sexy.”

“You came to a romance book club to get advice about me?”

“Technically, I came to get advice about romance.”

“From my readers?”

“Well, when you put it that way—”

“Fletcher!”

I sigh. “Yes, baby. I came here because I was crazy about you, and I didn’t know how to convince you that what we had was real.”

Her expression softens. “Really?”

“Really.”

Roxy rests her chin on her hand. “He took notes.”

“Roxy!”

“Actual notes,” Jess adds. “On his phone.”

“Jess!”

“And he wanted to know which romance beats he was missing,” Alex says.

Drew’s eyes widen. “Oh, my God.”

I close mine.

This is how I die. Not from a cardiac event. Not from old age. From six women exposing my romantic incompetence in front of the love of my life.

“To be fair,” I say, “I was working with a limited understanding of the genre.”

“You were doing fine with the sex scenes,” Drew teases.

“Drew!”

“What? You were.”

The women howl.

I glance down at my sleeping daughter. “Sweetheart, Daddy would like you to know that your mother is being very inappropriate.”

Drew laughs so hard she has to wipe her eyes. And there it is. That sound. The one that made me fall in love with her in the first place.

I used to think I understood happiness. I’d worked hard, built a career, saved lives. I had brothers and sisters-in-law who loved me, a home, and more blessings than a man could reasonably expect.

But then Drew came along. And everything changed.

Now there’s a little girl sleeping against my heartbeat, and my wife is laughing with the women who helped me figure out how to ask her for forever.

It’s almost too much.

“Well?” Effie asks. “Did our advice work?”

I look at Drew. Her smile turns tender.

“Yeah,” I say quietly. “It worked.”

Roxy gives a satisfied nod. “Excellent. Another successful book club intervention.”

“Don’t get too excited,” I tell her. “You ladies nearly gave me a heart attack when you started talking about third-act breakups.”

“Every good romance needs a little conflict,” Jess says.

“Not mine.”

“Oh, come on,” Alex protests. “You can’t have a story without conflict.”

“Sure you can.”

Drew lifts an eyebrow. “Really, Doctor?”

“Absolutely. Here’s my story. I met a beautiful woman. Fell madly in love. Married her. Had a baby. The end.”

“That’s not a romance novel,” Drew says.

“Why not?”

“Because there’s no plot.”

“There’s plenty of plot. We have diaper blowouts, sleepless nights, and a woman who keeps stealing my side of the bed.”

“Your daughter steals your side of the bed?”

“No. Her mother does.”

Drew gives me a wicked grin. “That’s because you keep getting up to check on the baby.”

“She’s three months old!”

“She’s sleeping in a bassinet right beside us.”

“Exactly. Which means she’s close enough for me to check on her.”

“Every twenty minutes?”

“Sometimes fifteen.”

“Fletcher.”

“Drew.”

She shakes her head, but her eyes are shining.

Shelby smiles. “Sounds like a happily ever after to me.”

“Best damn one I’ve ever read,” I say.

My daughter chooses that exact moment to wake up. Her little face scrunches. Her arms move inside the carrier. Then she lets out a furious cry that silences the entire table.

“Oh, honey,” I murmur, rubbing her back. “What’s the matter?”

Drew rises immediately. “She’s probably hungry.”

“I can get her bottle.”

“I’ve got it, baby.”

She reaches into the diaper bag and retrieves the bottle we brought from home. I carefully unclip the carrier and lift our daughter into my arms. Her tiny fists wave indignantly.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” I tell her. “The service in this establishment is terrible.”

“Hey!” Delilah calls from behind the counter. “Present company excluded.”

Drew hands me the bottle. I settle into the chair beside her and begin feeding our daughter.

The change is instantaneous.

One moment, she’s protesting the injustices of the universe. The next, she’s gazing up at me with those big eyes, one tiny hand resting against my finger. And suddenly, I forget there are six other women in the room.

“Hey, beautiful,” I whisper.

She blinks.

“You know, your daddy waited a long time for you.”

Drew’s hand settles on my thigh.

I look at her.

She smiles.

“Both of you,” I add.

My wife leans her head against my shoulder. For a little while, nobody says anything.

Then Jess clears her throat. “Well, that’s it.”

I look up. “What’s it?”

“Best book club meeting ever.”

“Agreed,” Alex says.

Roxy reaches for her phone. “I need a picture of this.”

“Absolutely not,” I say.

“Why?”

“Because I’m about to cry again.”

“Then it’s definitely going in the family group chat.”

Drew laughs. “Come on, baby. One picture.”

I look at my wife, then at our daughter. “Fine. But you have to get in it.”

She slides her chair closer. I put my arm around her while keeping the bottle steady with my other hand.

Roxy holds up her phone. “Everybody ready?”

“Wait,” I say.

“What now?”

I turn and kiss Drew. Not a quick peck. A real kiss. The kind that reminds her she’s still my girl, even when our lives revolve around feeding schedules and diapers.

When I pull away, her cheeks are flushed.

“Fletcher,” she whispers.

“Love you, sexy.”

“Love you, too.”

Roxy makes a dramatic gagging noise. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. You two are disgustingly romantic.”

“Well,” I say, smiling down at my daughter, “you ladies created this monster.”

“You’re welcome,” Delilah replies.

Everybody laughs. And as my daughter finishes her bottle, Drew rests her head against my shoulder again.

I think about the last time I sat at this table. How scared I was. How desperately I wanted a future with the woman who’d stolen my heart.

I came here looking for the perfect grand gesture. Something big enough to prove that I wanted forever. Turns out forever isn’t one grand gesture.

It’s a thousand little ones.

It’s making coffee for your wife before she wakes up. Changing diapers at three in the morning so she can get another hour of sleep. Holding your daughter against your chest while the woman you love laughs with your family.

It’s coming home. Every single day. And choosing them all over again.

Drew kisses my cheek. “What are you thinking about, baby?”

I smile. “Just wondering what happens after the happily ever after.”

She glances at our daughter. Then back at me. “I think we get to write that part ourselves.”

I kiss her forehead. “Well, sexy, I can’t wait to see what we come up with next.”

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