“Alec?” She’s approaching slowly. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to work?”
“I came to tell you some things.”
She swallows, then asks, “What things?”
I move closer to her. Not easy to do on my knees, but my actions have drawn attention from all the people here at airport check-in. No doubt this will end up on the internet. I’d better make it good. “For starters, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?” She’s toying with me, like a cat with catnip.
“For last night.”
Matilda shakes her head and starts to walk away. I raise my voice so she can hear me. “Not for what you think. I’m sorry for not kissing you all night long.”
She stops and turns to face me. “You are?”
“I am.”
Moving closer, she adds, “Keep talking.”
I’d like to laugh at her expression, but she’s serious. “I fell for you the day we met.”
“At the dance studio?”
“Yes, except I didn’t know how to process those feelings because I’ve never felt anything like it before. Love at first sight isn’t real, right?”
Her shoulders rise, then fall. “I believe in it.”
“The more I got to know you through letters, texts, and phone calls, the deeper my feelings became.” She’s waiting for more. “I screwed up this weekend. I felt so terrible about last night, I figured the last thing you’d want is to spend another hour with me in my truck. I called Becky for help. The thought of you waiting around my place until it was time to go today sounded like a fate worse than death. That’s why you’re here so early.”
“None of this makes any sense. Did I do something wrong?”
“Nothing. You are perfect, Matilda. I love you. I want—”
“You love me?” Her voice is squeaky.
“I haven’t done a very good job showing you, but if you’ll let me, I’d like to start over. I’d like to try again.”
“You love me?” I guess she needs to hear it again. Maybe all the damn time. I get that.
“I do.”
She’s looking to her right as she mutters, “Kimmy was right.”
“Kimmy was right about what?”
Our eyes meet as she answers my question. “You want to marry me.”
“Someday. Yes.”
“Someday?”
Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. I correct myself. “As soon as you’re ready.”
“What if I said I was ready now?”
Oh boy. “All right. We could fly to Vegas.” I’ll be court-martialed for desertion, but I think it’d be worth it.
That earns me the first smile of the day and a snort. “You’d do it, wouldn’t you?”
