Page 198 of The Romance Adventure

“You have a point, but we’re talking about you right now. Us.”

“Lally, my heart is all jacked up.”

“I monitored your vitals for almost forty-eight hours. There were no signs of⁠—”

“I mean my other heart.”

“You have two hearts? I don’t think that’s possible.”

His dimple peeks through his stubble. “You know what heart I’m talking about.”

I lean back, unconvinced he has one of those. Okay, I’m being dramatic, but if we’re going to get through life together, he has to show me that he’s strong enough to face this with me.

“My heart isn’t perfect.”

Letting a little slack out of the proverbial line, I say, “I don’t want a perfect heart. A few imperfections are okay. I’d rather be with someone who recognizes their flaws than a guy who thinks he doesn’t have any. Cough, Ross, cough.”

The tension around Magnus’s eyes eases slightly. “For days, I fought with myself. I thought I wanted solitude. That it was safer. I tried to convince myself to tell you that it’s over. But I couldn’t. I don’t want it to be.”

Like an ember in a campfire catching light, romanticipation builds in me. From the sounds of it, Magnus is on the right track.

“When I texted you early on, I told you to say what you mean and mean what you say...and check your texts before you hit send.”

“Magnus, have you seen my thumbs?”

He steps closer, takes one of my hands in his, and kisses both of my thumbs.

My breath catches. This is escalating quickly.

“Yes, I’ve seen your thumbs. I love your thumbs. I just meant that I need to take my own advice.”

Magnus’s brown eyes capture mine. He doesn’t waver. Doesn’t look away. I don’t either.

“One of the other things I love about you is that you’re steady.” He kisses my forehead.

The corner of my lip lifts toward a smile.

“I also love that you’re beautiful.” He kisses me on the nose.

“Smart, strong, brave, compassionate, creative, beautiful. Did I mention that?” He punctuates each statement with a kiss.

The other side of my mouth lifts in a full-blown smile.

“I love your thumbs and am glad you texted me, asking me to marry you, even if it was a mistake.”

“Was it a mistake?” I ask softly.

“I owe you a dance.”

“What about when we were at the Driftwood?”

Magnus leads me onto the back deck of the bungalow. The moon is still high. Pearls of light bob in the seawater.

“I owe you a wedding dance.”

My heart tumbles.

“At our wedding,” his voice is velvety like the night.