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I smile. "Maybe your car knows what you need better than you do."
"Are you suggesting my piece of junk car knew I needed to come to your shop?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying." I want to run my hands all over her, draw her lips to my own. I'm thinking about the words I said on the note, that I needed her to come here as soon as she got home. That we have some unfinished business to take care of.
Guess she didn't need to read a note to find out where she belonged.
If that's not fate, what is?
"So, how did the interview go?" I ask the question that I already know the answer to. I know it went perfectly. There is no way in hell anyone could sit across from her, ask her questions, and not want to hire her on the spot.
"It went really, really well," as he says softly, not meeting my eyes. "They even offered me the job."
I pull back, running my hand along my neck, those are not the words I want to hear even though I'd been preparing myself to hear them.
"Well, uh, congratulations," I say, trying to rein in my emotions.
"Thank you," she says, finally looking up at me. "This job offer was everything I had ever hoped for."
"I see." I swallow hard, suddenly feeling like a goddamn fool, going out and buying her a diamond ring, thinking of the future with her, when here she is, already gone.
"No," she says, shaking her head. "I don't think you see."
"What's that mean?" I ask, moving closer to her, willing my heart to stop beating so damn loudly.
She bites her lip, suppressing a smile. "Well, the strangest thing happened. My car started acting up, so I pulled over, across the street from the shop. And then I got the phone call, offering me the job. I looked across the street and saw that the lights were all off inside your shop. I thought, maybe that's what the universe wanted me to see. That things here are done. That I have no unfinished business."
I clear my throat, not sure where this is headed.
She continues, "I thought I knew what I needed, Mike. But just when I thought I knew everything, where my life was headed, there you were, cooling down my car and heating up my heart, all at the same time."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I turned down the job. Just when I thought I knew everything, the light in your shop turned on. You were here, waiting for me. And I know you haven't made me any promises, and I don't know where things with us might go, but I want to find out. So, I said no to the offer. I'm gonna apply to be a substitute teacher here. And eventually, maybe there will be a job that opens up. But I want to take the risk, I want to see this through."
"Are you playing with me, Cutie?"
She shakes her head, having no clue how deep her words have hit home. "No. I'm not, Mike. I'm staying put."
"I know you're scared," I tell her. "This is happening fast, and I know you want a plan, a safety net." I look at her eyes, see that those sweet things are brimming with tears. "Clementine, let me be your safety net. Let me catch you when you fall. Let me make promises I intend to keep."
She shakes her head, covering her face with her hands.
"What, you don't like my idea?" I ask, wrapping my arms around her waist, and cupping her cheek with my hand.
"No," she says. "I love that idea. The truth is, Mike, I love you."
I give her the cocky grin I know she loves, dimples and all.
Then I dropped to one knee, shocking the hell out of her.
"Good. Because when I bought this diamond ring this morning, I was hoping you'd want to stick around." I pull the ring from my pocket, offering it to her. "I love you, Clementine. I know it's fast and I know it's crazy. But there are crazier things than falling in love."
"Oh, Mike," she says, tears streaking her cheeks. She shakes her head in disbelief. But she better believe this. I am making more than a promise. I am making vows.
"Marry me, Clementine. Be my wife."
She flings her arms around me. "Yes. Oh, Mike. Is this really happening?"
"Yes, Cutie, it's happening. You think I'd take you on the hood of my car and not find a way to make you my bride?" She laughs, her smile so damn bright. "Here's the thing, Clementine," I say, slipping the ring on her finger, "you may have learned to drive a stick shift, but I'm not sure you know how to rotate my tires."
"Is that some sort of innuendo?" She laughs as I squeeze her perfect, round ass. "Because if it is, I have literally no idea what it means."
