I’m vibrating I’m so excited.
Cooke:Aye. We’ll bring in the new year together.
Me:I can’t wait.
Cooke:I’ll let you know my flight information. We’ll rent a car, so no need for you to do a thing.
Me:Okay. I love you.
Cooke:I love you more.
* * *
I can’t study.How can I when I Cooke is coming back? But I must. Saying softly, “You can do it, Quinn. Focus,” I open my book again and stare down at the page. Gothic architecture. Since the exam is comprehensive, I need to review everything from the beginning. I remember telling Cooke about this chapter, and he mentioned the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris.Paris.Maybe we could go sometime. It’s just right over the English Channel. Well, under it. The Chunnel takes you to France. I’d also love to go to Italy to see the Sistine Chapel.
“Focus,” I growl to myself. Pulling out my notes from early in the semester, I turn to the page I need and smile. I doodled “Quinn Thompson” in the margin. “What a silly girl.”
I stare at the swirling letters for a second or two when it hits me.
For the first time in my life, those doodles aren’t crazy.
Chapter Fifty
Cooke: Be there in ten minutes.
I stare down at his message as butterflies fill my belly. Cooke is ten minutes away from his new home. I’m waiting just inside the door because it’s as cold as a witch’s tit outside. At least the storm that was forecast has held off long enough for his plane to land. I know he knows what snow is, but I don’t think he’s ever experienced an Iowa winter before. I urged him to tell Saffie to drive slowly and carefully on the way home and to be cautious on bridge overpasses because they freeze first. He assured me that she was a skilled driver and not to worry.
I’ve still worried.
I concentrate on my breathing because I’ve been a nervous wreck all day. Checking my phone again, I see movement from the corner of my eye. My head jerks up just as a large black SUV pulls into the driveway. I know it’s him because the thing looks like it’s probably worth seventy-five grand. Just kidding. It does look expensive, though.
I push open the door and step onto the sidewalk that has been cleared of snow and salted to melt the ice. I’d like to run to him, but I know I’ll wipe out if I do. Just then, Saffie jumps out of the car first, squealing, “Quinn!”
“Saffie.” I move to her and wrap her up in my arms. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“It’s bloody frigid here, Quinn. You should’ve warned me. I didn’t pack for this.”
I roll my eyes. “I told your brother.”
“Figures,” she mumbles.
Then I see him through the windshield. His face is so handsome. He’s still got his beard, which will be good for the winter months, but the smile peeking out from his furry face is what takes my breath away. “I love him so much.” It’s just a whisper. I’m saying it to myself, honestly. But Saffie hears me.
“He loves you too.”
Turning to her, I smile. “I know.” Then I scurry over to the passenger side of the car and open his door. I don’t give him a chance to speak, just wrap my arms around him and kiss him like he’s my only sustenance in weeks.
He kisses me back until I hear Saffie mumbling something like “Bloody get a room.”
Laughing, I pull away and look into his golden irises. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to let you go this time, Cooke.”
“I know, love.”
Helping him out of the car, I grab his “sticks” as he calls them and keep my hands on him as well on the walk to the building. It’s a slow process, but we get there eventually. While Cooks sits on a bench, I run down to the office to get Connie, the woman who sold Cooke the place. She grabs the keys and follows me back.
“Mr. Thompson.” She beams. “It’s so good to see you again.”
“Same,” he says with a nod.
