Page 132 of Dirty Dancing at Devil's Leap

The world was only his eyes, and his breath, and his hands twined in hers, and the river moving over the rocks as they stood high above it.

He raised their twined hands and collected her tears from her eyelashes gently on his knuckle. “I’ve loved you pretty much from the moment I laid eyes on you, Avalon. You have my heart. You can keep it or you can throw it off Devil’s Leap. Devil’s Leap’s yours, too.”

“Your heart is the most precious thing in the world to me,” she could have said. But he’d already filled the air with romance and she knew he liked it when people said exactly what they meant.

So she said, “I love you.”

Three words that contained worlds and the past and the future. They were as beautiful and intricate as the house, as basic as Mac.

He closed his eyes briefly and his head went back and he exhaled a breath. He folded his arms around her.

“And Devil’s Leap isours,” she corrected on a murmur, as she melted against him, and looped her arms around his neck.

And her face turned up as his came down. They kissed each other like they’d invented kissing.

Somehow, deftly, as this was all happening, he’d managed to free the remote from his pocket and he used it to turn up the music again.

And they rotated in a slow circle, bodies fit together like gears, the length of him warm and strong against the length of her, like kids at a high school dance, there was no sound except Roxy Music and the river below them.

Until:

“You were right all along,” he murmured into her hair, sounding only a little surprised. “This isn’t ridiculous at all.”