I don't let her finish. I close the distance between us in three long strides, wrap my arms around her, and kiss her.
She makes a small surprised sound against my mouth, her hands coming up to grip my jacket. For a moment she's stiff with shock, and then she melts into me, kissing me back with five days of missing me poured into it.
When I finally pull back, we're both breathing hard.
"Hi," I say.
"Hi yourself." Her voice is shaky. "You're here."
"I'm here."
"You drove two hours."
"One and a half, actually. I may have broken some speed limits."
She laughs, a little wild, a little disbelieving. "Jake, what—"
"Just hear me out, okay?"
"But—"
"Please." I take her hands in mine. "I practiced this the whole drive over and if I don't say it now I'm going to lose my nerve."
She opens her mouth, probably to argue, then seems to think better of it. She nods.
"Okay." I take a breath. "I know this is crazy. I know we've only known each other for a week. I know you have your business and your route and your whole life planned out, and the last thing I want is to make you feel trapped or like you have to give any of that up."
"Jake—"
"I'm not done." I squeeze her hands. "I own a lot of real estate. Back in Wylde Mountain, I mean. Properties all over town."
She frowns, confused. "Okay..."
"There's this old building next to my office. Used to be a mechanic's garage. It's been empty for years. Good bones, great location, but I never knew what to do with it." I pause. "Until now."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying we could convert it. Into a bakery. If you’d like." The words come faster now, tumbling over each other. "A real one, with a proper kitchen and display cases and a little café area. We could put in a bay door on the side, big enough to store the food truck when you're not using it."
Her eyes are wide. "Jake..."
"You could work at the bakery when you want to. Build up a local customer base. But you'd still be free to take the truck out whenever you want—festivals, rodeos, wherever the road takes you." I take another breath. "And I could go with you. My job, I can do it from anywhere with a laptop and a phone. I spent years doing it from Silicon Valley. I can do it from a festival parking lot."
"Jake, stop—"
"I know it's fast. I know it's insane. I know you probably think I've lost my mind, and maybe I have." I'm rambling now, but I can't stop. "But I drove here going ninety miles an hour becausemy sister told me I'm in love with you, and she's right, Madison. She's right. I am in love with you. I've been in love with you since you handed me that first cinnamon roll and looked at me like I was an idiot for being surprised it was good."
"Jake—"
"I love the way you argue with me about everything. I love the way you dance while you bake. I love the way you smell like Christmas morning. I love that you're brave enough to chase your dreams in a food truck, and I love that you're stubborn enough to keep going even when it's hard."
"Jake, please—"
"You’re mine, Madison. And I’m yours. I want to be part of your adventure. I want to wake up next to you and fall asleep next to you and drive through blizzards with you. I want to taste every recipe you ever create and tell you honestly whether it's amazing or needs more salt. I want—"
"JAKE."
I stop.
