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“So are you.”
I looked at him, and he was staring back at me.
I think we would have just stared at each other if not for the drop of water that fell from the sky and hit his cheek—then another that hit my nose.
“No.” He gasped, looking at the sky. “They said it was supposed to be clear today!”
“Welcome to Seattle!” I laughed as the skies opened up, and all the water in heaven began to fall on top of us both.
He rushed to the steering wheel.
“What should I do?”
“Make it stop raining!” he called out, and even though I knew he was kidding, I felt too good, so I started to dance. “What in the world are you doing!”
“You said to make it stop raining. Here is a rain dance!”
“Isn’t that what you do to make it rain?”
I paused.
And he broke into hysterical laughter, his head going back before yelling at the top of his lungs against the rain. “Odette Rochelle Wyntor!”
“What!” I yelled back.
“I’m going to marry you!”
I froze, and then my heart started to dance, and soon, I could not stop myself from yelling out, “Galahad Fitzhugh Cornelius Edgar!”
“What?”
“Marry me!”
He nearly slipped and fell. He was shocked, so I reached out to grab on to him, and he grabbed on to me.
“Are you okay?”
“Did you hear what you just said?” he asked, completely unbothered by nearly falling overboard.
I nodded.
“Say it again.”
“Marry me.”
He gaped at me. “Are sure you?”
“Let’s get married,” I repeated, my heart twisting, but I wasn’t sure if it was panic or excitement.
“Odette, I am going to ask you one more—”
I closed the distance between our lips to shut him up and then backed away. “Let’s get married, Gale.”
He nodded, grinning. “Yes. Let’s.”
“Right now.”
“What?”
