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“From here, as far as I’m concerned,” he said.
“That’s a little quick.” I laughed. “But I would love to go. Soon. And we will go to the Eiffel Tower, thank you.”
“I knew it,” he said. “At heart, you’re just a sentimental romantic fool.”
I laughed again, watching as Jolene and Zeb circled the floor. Lord help me, I actually started misting up. “Sometimes.”
“Are you crying?” he asked, lifting my chin.
“No!”
“Sentimental, romantic fool,” he said again as I wiped at my eyes.
“I really hate this song,” I grumbled.
He twirled me out and dipped me. “Honey, let it go.”
