Worth the Fall: A Single Dad, Romantic Comedy (Flirting with Forever Book 2)

The first thing I feel when I wake up is Mia curled against me, her breath warm and steady against my chest. The second thing I feel is the weight of the day ahead—a mix of excitement, nerves, and disbelief that this is really happening. Today, she becomes my wife.

I’m content to lie here for a few more minutes, soaking in the quiet, when the door bursts open with the kind of force only a five-year-old can muster.

‘Daddy! Mia!’

Felicity’s voice is like a cannonball of joy, and before I can even sit up, she’s climbing onto the bed. Her flower girl dress is already on—wrinkled from being crammed into her toy chest overnight, no doubt—and her hair is still a wild halo of curls.

‘You’re up early,’ I say, laughing as she bounces on the mattress.

‘It’s wedding day!’ she exclaims, throwing her hands in the air like it’s Christmas morning. ‘I’m ready to be the flower princess!’

Mia stirs beside me, her sleepy groan turning into a laugh as Felicity throws herself between us, snuggling under the covers. ‘Flower princess, huh?’ Mia says, her voice still husky with sleep.

‘Yup!’ Felicity beams, clutching her stuffed bunny in one hand. ‘And you’re going to be a queen, Mia! A wedding queen!’

‘Well, that sounds like a promotion,’ Mia says, smiling as she wraps an arm around Felicity.

I reach over, brushing a curl out of Felicity’s face. ‘You look beautiful, baby girl, but we’re going to have to steam that dress again.’

Felicity looks down at the crumpled fabric with a frown, then back up at me with wide eyes. ‘But it’s still princess-y, right?’

‘Very princess-y,’ I assure her, ruffling her hair.

Mia laughs, running her fingers over Felicity’s dress. ‘It’s nothing we can’t fix. But first, how about we cuddle for a little while longer?’

Felicity doesn’t need to be asked twice. She burrows under the blanket, squeezing herself between us like it’s her rightful place, and for a few precious moments, the three of us just lie there, wrapped up in each other.

‘I love you both,’ Mia whispers, her hand finding mine beneath the blanket.

‘Love you too, Mommy Mia,’ Felicity says, her voice muffled against the pillow.

The words hit me square in the chest, and I can’t help but smile. ‘Love you more,’ I say, leaning over to kiss Mia’s temple and then Felicity’s forehead.

Felicity giggles. ‘Okay, but now we really have to fix my dress! I can’t be a crumpled princess!’

Mia and I burst out laughing, and just like that, the day begins.

The morning hums with energy, and the apartment feels alive in a way that only happens on days like this. Felicity sits on a kitchen stool, her legs swinging back and forth as Celine, her mom, carefully arranges the last of her curls. The soft light streaming in through the windows catches the glittery accents on her flower girl dress, making her look even more princess-like than usual.

‘Hold still, sweetheart,’ Celine says gently, her hands steady as she secures a small white bow in Felicity’s hair.

‘I’m trying,’ Felicity says, giggling as her legs continue to swing. ‘But it’s hard to be still when I’m this excited!’

Celine laughs, a soft, melodic sound that makes Felicity smile even wider. ‘I know, but if you keep wiggling, your bow’s going to end up sideways.’

Felicity gasps, immediately freezing. ‘Okay. I’m still. See? Like a statue.’

Celine kisses the top of her head. ‘You’re perfect.’

‘Are you going to cry again?’ Felicity asks, peering up at her with wide eyes. ‘You cried when I tried on my dress the first time.’

Celine chuckles, dabbing at her eyes with her free hand. ‘I might. But only because I’m so proud of you.’

Felicity beams, reaching out to take her hand. ‘I like it when you’re proud of me.’

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ Celine says, squeezing her hand. ‘I’m always proud of you.’

Across the room, Mia sits at the kitchen table with my mom, both of them cradling mugs of coffee as they talk and laugh like old friends. The sight of them together, so at ease, makes my chest tighten in the best way.

‘So let me get this straight,’ Mia says, grinning. ‘He fell out of the tree, broke his arm, and the first thing he said was, ‘Don’t tell Mom.’’

‘Exactly,’ my mom replies, shaking her head. ‘As if I wouldn’t notice my son walking around with his arm in a sling.’

‘Classic Miguel,’ Mia says, shooting me a teasing look.

I hold up my hands in defense. ‘I was ten! My priorities weren’t exactly in order.’

My mom chuckles, her eyes twinkling. ‘That’s putting it mildly. He was always getting into trouble, always testing limits. But he had the biggest heart.’

Mia’s smile softens as she looks at me. ‘He still does.’

My mom reaches across the table to pat Mia’s hand. ‘And you see that. That’s why I’m so glad he found you.’

Mia’s cheeks flush, but she doesn’t look away. ‘He’s pretty incredible,’ she says softly.

‘Stop, you’re embarrassing me,’ I call over, though my grin betrays me.

Mia laughs, shaking her head. ‘You’re fine, Ramirez. You can handle a little praise.’

My mom leans back in her chair, her smile growing. She glances over to make sure Celine is out of earshot. ‘You know, Mia, I prayed for years that Miguel would find someone who truly saw him. Someone who could keep up with him but also bring out the best in him.’

Mia looks down at her coffee, her expression thoughtful. ‘I think he brings out the best in me, too.’

My mom reaches out to take her hand again. ‘That’s how it should be.’

Celine finishes Felicity’s hair and turns her around, admiring her handiwork. ‘There. Now you’re ready.’

Felicity hops off the stool and twirls, her dress fanning out around her. ‘How do I look?’ she asks, looking between me, Mia, and my mom.

‘Like a real princess,’ I say, grinning.

‘The best princess,’ Mia adds, holding out her hand to Felicity. ‘Come here and let me see.’

Felicity runs over, climbing into Mia’s lap and snuggling against her. ‘Do you think everyone will like my petals?’ she asks, her voice small.

‘They’re going to love them,’ Mia says, stroking her hair. ‘And they’re going to love you. You’re going to be amazing, Felicity.’

Celine sits beside them, resting a hand on Felicity’s back. ‘And if anyone doesn’t love your petals, you send them to me. I’ll handle it.’

Felicity giggles, looking up at her mom. ‘Okay, Mommy.’

My mom reaches for Mia hand. ‘You’ve got a beautiful family, Mia.’

Mia smiles, her eyes shining. ‘I really do.’

As I watch them, my heart feels impossibly full. This is everything I’ve ever wanted—a family, love, and moments like this. And today, it all becomes official.

The first look with Mia is like something out of a dream.

The garden is quiet save for the soft rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird. The sun filters through the trees, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow across the stone path. My palms are slightly sweaty, my heart pounding harder with each passing second as I wait.

Then I hear it—her footsteps, soft and deliberate, crunching gently on the gravel. I swallow hard, my pulse quickening as her scent reaches me first, a subtle mix of vanilla and something floral that’s distinctly Mia.

‘Miguel,’ her voice comes softly from behind me, a mix of excitement and nerves. ‘Okay, turn around.’

I take a breath, steadying myself, and then I turn.

There she is.

For a moment, it’s like the world stops.

Mia stands a few feet away, and she’s breathtaking. Her dress is simple yet elegant, the soft fabric hugging her curves and flowing down into a train that pools slightly behind her. The bodice is delicately embroidered with lace, and the sheer sleeves add a timeless, ethereal touch. Her hair is swept back into loose waves, a few tendrils framing her face. And her bouquet—white ranunculus with hints of greenery—is understated, allowing her beauty to take center stage.

‘Wow,’ I manage, my voice barely above a whisper. My throat feels tight, and for a moment, I wonder if I’ll ever find the right words.

Her lips curve into a smile, her cheeks already beginning to flush. ‘You like it?’ she asks, her voice teasing but laced with vulnerability.

‘Like it?’ I step closer, my eyes never leaving hers. ‘Mia, you’re… you’re everything. I don’t have words for how beautiful you look.’

Her smile widens, her eyes shining. ‘You’re going to make me cry before we even get to the ceremony,’ she says, her voice catching slightly.

I grin, reaching out to take her hands in mine. ‘I’d apologize, but I don’t think I’m capable of regret right now.’

She laughs softly, the sound music to my ears. ‘How do you do that?’

‘Do what?’

‘Make me feel like I’m the only person in the world,’ she says, her voice quiet.

‘Because you are,’ I reply, leaning in to kiss her softly.

Her lips are warm and familiar, and the moment feels suspended in time. When we pull back, her eyes search mine, her fingers tightening around my hands.

‘Are you nervous?’ she asks.

‘Not even a little,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘Excited, maybe. Overwhelmed by how lucky I am? Definitely.’

She laughs again, but there’s a sheen of tears in her eyes now. ‘You’re such a sap.’

‘For you? Always,’ I say, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.

We stand there for a moment longer, the world around us fading into the background. She shifts slightly, and her train rustles against the stone.

‘Do I look like a bride?’ she asks, her voice suddenly softer, almost shy.

‘You look like my bride,’ I say, my voice steady but full of emotion.

Her breath catches, and she blinks rapidly, her grip on my hands tightening. ‘Okay,’ she whispers. ‘Now you’re definitely going to make me cry.’

I chuckle, pulling her into a gentle hug. ‘Just save a few tears for the ceremony, okay?’

She nods against my chest, her arms wrapping around me. For a moment, we just stand there, holding each other in the quiet of the garden, letting the significance of the day sink in.

When she pulls back, her smile is radiant, and I know without a doubt that this is the best decision I’ve ever made.

The ceremony is perfect.

Felicity is first down the aisle, and she owns the moment with all the poise of a seasoned royal. Her tiny hands grip the basket of petals with precision, and each toss is deliberate, as though she’s sprinkling magic instead of rose petals. When she gets halfway down, she pauses dramatically, throwing in a little spin that earns a soft wave of laughter from the guests.

She catches my eye, and with all the confidence in the world, she winks.

I stifle a laugh, biting my lip to keep from grinning too broadly. That kid. She’s the best.

She reaches the end of the aisle and takes her place beside Celine, who is beaming at her, pride radiating from her like a spotlight.

And then the music shifts.

Mia steps into view, her arm linked with her dad’s.

For a moment, everything else—the guests, the venue, the world—fades into the background.

She’s radiant. Her dress flows around her like liquid light, the lace and fabric catching the sun in a way that seems almost otherworldly. Her bouquet of ranunculus and greenery is simple but elegant, and it fits her perfectly.

But it’s her face that holds me. She’s smiling, her lips trembling just slightly, her eyes locked on mine with a mixture of joy, love, and something that feels like forever.

My chest tightens, and I’m suddenly aware of how hard my heart is pounding. This is it. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for.

Mia’s dad leans in to kiss her cheek when they reach the altar, his face filled with emotion as he places her hand in mine.

‘You take care of her,’ he says softly, his voice cracking slightly.

‘I will,’ I promise, my voice steady.

And then it’s just us.

The officiant begins, but his words barely register. All I can see is Mia, her hands in mine, her eyes never leaving my face.

The vows come easily. Every word I speak feels like it’s been etched on my heart for years, just waiting for this moment to be said aloud.

‘I promise to love you, to support you, to laugh with you, and to hold you through every high and low life throws our way,’ I say, my voice thick with emotion.

Her eyes glisten, and when it’s her turn, her voice wavers slightly, but the words come with conviction.

‘I promise to choose you, every day, for the rest of my life. To build a life with you, to dream with you, to hold your hand through everything we face. You are my home, Miguel.’

By the time she finishes, my throat is tight, and I know I’m not the only one. I hear a sniffle from the first row—probably Hector, though he’ll deny it later.

The officiant smiles warmly. ‘By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Miguel, you may kiss the bride.’

I don’t hesitate.

Stepping closer, I cradle her face in my hands and kiss her with everything I have. The cheers and applause from our friends and family barely register as she leans into me, her arms wrapping around my neck.

When we pull back, her face is glowing, her smile brighter than the sun.

‘You’re my wife,’ I whisper, the words both surreal and completely real at the same time.

‘And you’re my husband,’ she replies, her voice soft but filled with wonder.

Hand in hand, we turn to face our guests, and the sound of their joy washes over us like a wave. This moment—this perfect, fleeting moment—is everything.

And it’s only the beginning.

The reception is a whirlwind of love, laughter, and more chaos than I ever expected.

It starts off elegantly enough. Mia and I glide into the room hand in hand, the applause from our friends and family washing over us like a warm wave. The decorations are perfect—soft whites and greens with twinkling lights strung across the ceiling—and the band sets the mood with a low, romantic melody.

But of course, this crowd doesn’t stay quiet for long.

The first laugh comes during the conga line. It’s Felicity’s idea, naturally, and she insists on being the leader, her tiny hands gesturing grandly as she commands the room. ‘Everyone! Follow me!’ she shouts, grabbing Celine’s hand and dragging her to the front.

From there, it’s pandemonium. By the time they’ve looped around the room twice, nearly everyone is involved—Mia, my mom, her brothers Nate and Josh, and even Austin, who looks utterly baffled as Taylor drags him along.

Halfway through the third lap, Hector somehow manages to trip over his own feet, taking out a small cluster of unsuspecting dancers. Everyone erupts into laughter as he sprawls dramatically across the floor, clutching his chest. ‘I’ve been defeated by the conga gods!’ he cries, earning applause as he gets back up with a sheepish grin.

Mia shakes her head, grinning at me. ‘Your friends are ridiculous.’

‘You married into this,’ I remind her, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

Later, after dinner, the band strikes up something upbeat, and the dance floor turns into a riot of energy. Felicity grabs Mia’s hand, dragging her to the center.

‘Dance battle!’ Felicity declares, pointing dramatically at Mia.

‘Oh, it’s on,’ Mia replies, stepping forward like she’s preparing for war.

The two of them go back and forth, spinning and twirling with exaggerated flair as the crowd cheers them on. Felicity throws in a few wild spins that send her dress fanning out like a flower, while Mia counters with what can only be described as a mix between salsa and the Macarena.

By the end of it, they’re both laughing so hard they can barely stand. Felicity runs into Mia’s arms, declaring her the winner.

‘No, you won,’ Mia says, planting a kiss on her forehead. ‘You’re the queen of the dance floor.’

Felicity beams, throwing her arms around her neck.

Meanwhile, Taylor and Austin are… well, a little too into their slow dance.

They’re off to the side, but not far enough to escape notice. Taylor’s hands are locked behind Austin’s neck, her head tilted back as she laughs at something he says. He leans in, whispering in her ear, and her cheeks flush.

‘Should we intervene?’ Mia asks, raising an eyebrow as she watches them.

‘Nah,’ I say, chuckling. ‘They’re harmless.’

Just then, Taylor throws her head back dramatically, laughing louder than the music, and Austin tightens his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer.

Mia gives me a look.

‘Okay, maybe a little intervention,’ I admit, stepping forward to give Austin a firm pat on the shoulder. ‘Hey, Romeo, save some of that for later, yeah?’

Austin grins sheepishly, stepping back. Taylor, of course, just smirks. ‘Jealous, Miguel?’

‘Of Austin’s lack of boundaries? Not really,’ I tease, earning a laugh from Mia.

The highlight of the night is Hector’s toast.

He stands at the head table, champagne flute in hand, a mischievous glint in his eye. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he begins, his voice carrying easily over the chatter. ‘I’d like to say a few words about my best friend Miguel and his new wife, Mia.’

I groan quietly, already bracing myself.

Hector grins. ‘Now, I’ve known Miguel for a long time. And in that time, I’ve learned a few things about him. One, he’s terrible at karaoke. Two, he eats churros like they’re an Olympic sport. And three, he’s never been this happy in his life.’

The room lets out a collective ‘Aww,’ and I shoot him a warning look.

‘But seriously,’ Hector continues, his tone softening. ‘Mia, you’ve done something I didn’t think was possible. You’ve made my best friend better. Not that he was bad before, but now? He’s kinder, he’s lighter, and he smiles like a lovesick fool whenever he looks at you.’

The crowd laughs, and Mia squeezes my hand, her eyes shining.

‘And Miguel,’ Hector says, looking at me directly. ‘You’ve got the real deal here. Mia is smart, strong, and has somehow agreed to put up with you for the rest of her life. Don’t screw it up.’

‘I won’t,’ I promise, earning more laughter.

‘To Mia and Miguel,’ Hector says, raising his glass. ‘May your life together be full of love, laughter, and maybe a little less churro hoarding.’

The room erupts into applause as everyone raises their glasses, and I shake my head, laughing.

‘Was that so bad?’ Hector asks as he sits down.

I smirk. ‘You’ll pay for that later.’

He grins. ‘Worth it.’

By the time the night winds down, the dance floor is littered with abandoned shoes, and Felicity is fast asleep on Celine’s lap, her curls a wild mess and her cheeks flushed from dancing.

Mia and I slip away to the terrace for a quiet moment, the city lights twinkling in the distance. She leans into me, her head on my shoulder, and I wrap an arm around her waist.

‘This was perfect,’ she says softly.

‘It was,’ I agree, kissing the top of her head.

She tilts her head up, her eyes meeting mine. ‘How does it feel to be married, Mr. Ramirez?’

‘Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be,’ I reply.

Her lips curve into a smile, and I lean down to kiss her, savoring the quiet, the joy, and the absolute certainty that this is just the beginning of our forever.

The hotel suite door clicks shut behind us, and my hands are already reaching for her, drawn to the elegant line of her neck where those tiny pearl buttons begin. She’s been tempting me all day in this dress, looking like something out of a dream. Now, finally, we’re alone.

‘Let me help you with this,’ I murmur, fighting to keep my hands steady as I work each button free. Her skin is warm under my fingers, and the subtle scent of her perfume makes my head spin. Every inch of exposed skin is a revelation, and I have to resist the urge to taste each new area I uncover.

‘You’ve been driving me crazy all day,’ I confess, my voice rougher than intended. ‘Do you know how hard it was to keep my hands off you during that first dance?’ The memory of her body pressed against mine, the way she’d moved deliberately closer than necessary, has been torturing me for hours.

She smiles, and I can hear the mischief in her voice. ‘I might have done that on purpose.’

I can’t help but chuckle, pressing a kiss to her newly exposed shoulder. ‘Tease.’

‘Your tease,’ she reminds me, and something possessive roars to life in my chest.

‘My wife,’ I correct her, loving how the words feel in my mouth. After everything we’ve been through, she’s finally, officially mine.

The dress falls away in a whisper of fabric, and my breath catches when she turns to face me. The sight of her in delicate white lace, backlit by the soft hotel lights, is almost too much. My hands come up to frame her face of their own accord.

‘God, look at you,’ I breathe, tracing her bottom lip with my thumb. The platinum band on my finger catches the light—a constant reminder that this isn’t just another night together. This is forever. ‘How did I get so lucky?’

She reaches for my tie instead of answering, and I have to suppress a groan at the feeling of her fingers working at my throat. My pulse jumps under her touch, and I know she can feel the tremor in my hands as they slide down her sides. I’ve wanted her countless times before, but never quite like this.

‘I love you,’ she whispers against my mouth, and my control snaps. I kiss her deeply, hungrily, letting out all the need I’ve been containing throughout the reception. She opens to me immediately, pressing closer until I can feel her heart racing against my chest.

I walk her backward toward the bed, finally allowing my hands to roam everywhere they’ve been aching to touch. When the back of her knees hit the mattress, I force myself to pull back, needing to see her face.

‘Tell me what you want,’ I manage, my voice dropping lower with desire.

‘You,’ she breathes, tugging me down with her. ‘Always you.’

The trust in her voice is my undoing. I take my time exploring her body, relearning every curve and plane like it’s our first time together. But it’s different now—each touch weighted with our vows, each kiss a renewal of our promises. When I find that sensitive spot below her ear, her gasp sends heat straight through me.

‘Miguel, please.’

‘Patience, mi amor,’ I murmur against her skin, though I’m trembling with the effort of holding back. ‘Let me love you properly.’

My hand slides lower, and the way she responds to my touch is intoxicating. Everything narrows to this moment—the taste of her skin, the sound of my name on her lips, the perfect way she fits against me. When I finally push into her, the connection is almost overwhelming. This isn’t just passion anymore; it’s a physical expression of everything we’ve promised each other.

‘Look at me,’ I command softly, needing to see her eyes. She opens them, and the love I see there steals my breath. Her hand comes up to trace my face, and I turn to kiss her palm, feeling the delicate band of her wedding ring press against my cheek.

‘Mine,’ I growl against her neck as the possessive need builds. ‘Forever.’

‘Yours,’ she agrees breathlessly, and I believe it with every fiber of my being.

Afterward, as we lie tangled in the sheets, I can’t stop touching her, tracing patterns on her bare skin. The weight of my ring feels right, natural, like it was always meant to be there.

‘What are you thinking about?’ I ask, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She props herself up on my chest, and my heart clenches at how beautiful she looks —hair mussed from my hands, lips swollen from my kisses, wearing nothing but satisfaction and my ring.

‘About how this is just the beginning,’ she says, leaning in to kiss me. I respond instantly, pulling her closer as desire starts to build again.

‘Round two, Mrs. Ramirez?’ I murmur against her lips, loving how the name feels. My wife. My Mia.

‘We have all night,’ she reminds me, shifting against me in a way that makes my breath catch. ‘And the rest of our lives.’

I smile, rolling her beneath me again. The rest of our lives—it still doesn’t feel long enough.