With Brave Wings (30 page)

"No need!" Sophie choked a laugh, her cheeks reddening. She was so fucking lovely. "My husband can shut his pie hole." She shot a mock-scowl up at him. "He's biased, anyway."

Tennyson chuckled and shook his head. It was becoming evident that she'd never learn.

After a few more questions, it was time to move on, and while they waited to be interviewed for a TV network, they signed autographs for the fans who were there on the Fan Experience.

It was dizzying as always.

"Wright!"

Turning around, Tennyson spotted Chris, who'd played Sophie's father in the film that started it all.

"How the hell are you, Chris?" Tennyson smiled and shook the man's hand. He was here with his husband, so quick introductions were made as Sophie finished signing what looked like a purse.

"We won't hold you up—just wanted to say hey." Chris leaned over and kissed Sophie's cheek. "Congrats,
kiddo
."

"Thanks," she snickered.

A PA came up and told them it was time for the interview, and there was little to do but just…follow the crowd.

Since the interview was being televised, a makeup artist ran up to check something called a T-zone, and Tennyson pocketed his glasses for the moment. TV lights came on, introductions, more "checking things over," and then an exuberant reporter who waited as the cameraman counted down.

"And we're back! This time we have the lovely Sophie Pierce and handsome Tennyson Wright with us." She'd probably been smiling all day. Had to be a strain. "You two look gorgeous as always, and it's no wonder you're tonight's hottest couple! Have you guys checked out your hashtag on Twitter yet? It's certainly trending!"

Tennyson was confused, and Sophie didn’t appear to know, either. But the reporter was more than happy to show them. A social media feed came up on a flat screen, all of them using a hashtag next to "WrightsRunHot."

"Oh my God, that’s from this morning!" Sophie covered her mouth with her hand, amused and embarrassed, and used her other hand to point at a photo that seemed to be circulating a lot. It was everywhere.

From this morning's run home after the workout at RC's. They were jogging along the beach, and the photo had been taken when Tennyson had kissed her hand.

"Hot as always, princess," he said and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"A hot
mess
," Sophie laughed while the reporter aww'd. "Wow. I guess I don’t notice it as much anymore."

That made Tennyson smile. He knew she meant the paparazzi, and it was one of the things that had held her back the most in the past.

"So tell us," the reporter went on, "where are the little ones tonight?"

"At home," Sophie answered. "Mommy and Daddy get a night out while they're grounded for painting a wall."

"Well,
well
." The reporter stifled a chuckle and cocked her hip, eyeing them both. "Now I'm curious. Who's the disciplinarian between the two of you?"

Tennyson's brows lifted, and he and Sophie exchanged a look before he let out a quiet laugh and rubbed his jaw.

"I'll leave this one to you." She smirked.

He laughed silently and inclined his head, conceding. "I might be a little soft on our daughter. She has these puppy-dog eyes. But I'm also big on respect—it was how my brother and I grew up. If they don't listen when their mother tells them something, I'm not a happy camper." He shifted his hand to Sophie's side, settling it on her hip. "Sophie is more focused on kindness and being polite."

"True." Sophie nodded. "The mommy wrath comes out if they don’t say please and thank you."

"I like the mommy wrath," Tennyson admitted. Actually, it was a complete turn-on.

Both women found that funny in a "bless your heart" kind of way, but he didn’t care. Mommy wrath had given him some of the sexiest moments in his life. Ripped shirts and torn boxers were totally worth it.

"I have one more question," the reporter said. "Tennyson, you won the award for Best Director a few years ago, and you attended the show with your brother." Yeah, Sophie had been too close to term to accompany him, and Ivy had been born a couple days later. "Tonight you're at the Oscars together, and your wife is nominated for Best Actress. Anyone can see you're so proud. But can anything top this?"

"I'm definitely proud," he agreed and linked his fingers with Sophie's. "I don’t know, I'm not sure I see it that way. Small accomplishments can have great effects. I think Sophie could win a hundred statues, and she'd still be the same person. What nothing can top is being there with her every day as little things take us to new places."

The reporter smiled brilliantly. "Thank you so much, Tennyson, and good luck tonight, Sophie."

They were swiftly escorted off the podium while the reporter encouraged the viewers to keep tweeting #WrightsRunHot. Ushering Sophie to the next interview, Tennyson took the opportunity to check his phone and, as expected, it was blowing up with messages from their friends and family.

It was about an hour and two glasses of champagne later that they got inside the theater, and his head was killing him. But at least Sophie looked much calmer now.

"Hold up." She grabbed his arm, and their abrupt halt caused a few around them to almost bump into them. "Where are we?"

His brow furrowed, and he quickly downed two painkillers with the last of his champagne. "You lost me, baby. You clearly know where we are."

He smiled politely at a passing waiter and handed over the empty glass.

"When was the last time we were here together?" Sophie implored. "This exact same spot. Dressed to the nines. Premiere."

Unrecovered.

She was right. This was the first time they'd returned to the Dolby Theater together since the premiere of
Unrecovered
.

"We've come a long way, haven't we?" He touched her cheek.

Only with her could the outside world fade into nothingness. Only with her was another Alfred Tennyson quote the most fitting.
"She stood, a sight to make an old man young."

"Yeah." She wrapped her arms around his middle and tilted her face up, to which he dipped down and kissed her softly. Like he hadn't done the last time they were here. "I'm not nervous anymore. I'll get that award when I get it."

Them
, he wanted to say. There would be several. He had all the faith in the world in her.

"Beautiful." His hands framed her face, and he felt the corners of his mouth twisting up. "Tomorrow—you, me, the kids."

"Greasy food," she added.

"Yoga pants for the missus."

"Sweats for the mister."

Hell, yes. "No peopleing."

"It's like you know me!" She threw her arms around his neck and giggled. "I love you, Tennyson."

"I love you more, Sophie." He hummed and pressed a kiss to her hair.

Which made her hiss and throw him a fake scowl. "Watch the do, sir."

"Pardon me, miss." He bowed his head and held out an arm toward the theater. Kind of hard to withhold his grin now. "What do you say, should we go in and see who this Oscar fella is?"

"Fuck, yeah." The classy girl sniffed and linked her arm with his. "I bet he has a small dick."

He snorted. "But you'd love him if he gave you some gold."

"I'm not gonna lie. I totally would."

###

More from Cara Dee can be found at
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