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Thirty minutes later, reality sinks in after we leave my wedding dress and Sharon’s car in the short-term parking deck for Archer to retrieve, and I’m standing at a ticket counter in Burlington International Airport.
“New Orleans?” I gape as Devin confirms our tickets on the app on his phone.
“You said you haven’t been to Louisiana yet,” he says over his shoulder, already walking toward the TSA. “What better way to spend a few days than with southern hospitality and cajun food?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I rush after Devin, grabbing his arm and dragging him aside. “I’ll admit I’ve been in a bit of a fog, but…”
His golden-brown eyes narrow in that way of his, which has me self-conscious. Like he’s using x-ray vision to gaze straight into the real me.
“I didn’t question your sudden appearance at the church. I didn’t question when you said we had a plane to catch, and I didn’t question the packed bag in the back seat of your car. But now, I have questions, Devin Hawthorne. This whole thing screams premeditated.”
His head jerks. “How could this be premeditated? Did I kidnap you from the church? Did I force you into my car and drive straight to the airport?”
“Well, no, but—”
“I had a bag in the car because I flew in this morning.”Oh.“Last night, I bought a plane ticket and packed a week’s worth of clothes for a visit with my family after my sister told me what happened with Anders at the outing your wedding party had Thursday night. I wrote maybe ten versions of that letter Willa gave you during my five-hour flight this morning, and I didn’t know if you’d ever see one.”
Devin glances away as his fingers comb through his tousled hair before stepping in closer and lowering his voice. “Nothing about this is premeditated, Nova. I flew dressed in this suit to go to your wedding if I could stomach it, and I ended up standing in the parking lot, knowing I didn’t have it in me. I gave Willa my letter minutes before she gave it to you. I barely even spoke to her. Hell, I went through two packs of Big Red today. I promise I donotknow what I’m doing right now. I’m making this up as I go.”
He gnaws on his lips, and I can’t curb the rising guilt. The man felt like I was making such a detrimental decision, he hopped on a plane. I disrupted his life for him to come and fix a mistake I should’ve figured out on my own.
“You don’t have to save me, Devin.”
Invading my space, he cradles my cheek. “Did you ever consider that I’m saving me, not you?”
I blink. And blink again.
His thumb caresses my face, the pad pressing into the faint dent in my cheek. “I’m trying to correct my biggest mistake, Dimples. I never should have let you go. Not at that motel. And not at that street corner.”
“Dev—” He cuts me off.
“Do you want to go to New Orleans with me, Nova Pratt?”
I have no idea what saying yes will open me to, but I’ve already run out on my wedding today. What’s one more rash decision? A rash decision that feels even better to say yes to than the first. Problem resolved, I take his hand.
We have just enough time to stop for a bite at The Skinny Pancake after going through the TSA checkpoint before boarding the five-and-a-half-hour flight to Louis Armstrong International Airport. We settle into a conversation in an unspoken agreement, keeping our topics light.
“Why do you chew gum like an addiction? Did you used to smoke?”
Devin eyes me, plastering his hand over his heart, faux-appalled. “I’m an athlete. How dare you suggest such a thing.” I raise my hands in surrender, curbing a smile. “It started with baseball in middle school. Some guys eat sunflower seeds, I chew gum. So, yeah, I guess you could say it’s an addiction.”
“And has it always been Big Red?”
“Always. I’m a big fan of spice, Spitfire.”
My neck heats at the tenderness in his tone, so I change the subject, filling him in on college.
“You changed your major? Did you still get all A’s?”
“Ha. Ha. There might have been a B in there, but yeah. I changed my major. Crazy, huh? I still minored in dance, but I’m glad I switched to business and took as many sports-related classes as possible.”
“What did the famous Ruby Pratt think about that?”
My lips quirk into a faint smile. “She was sad I didn’t want to dance anymore, but then she got excited thinking I’d take over the Academy someday. I guess now that I’m not moving to Wyoming, she’ll probably push for me to come work with her again. I’ve stopped blaming myself for her having to quit dancing. I’ve come to realize it was her choice, rather than something I forced upon her.”
“I’m glad. And you don’t want to work at her studio?”
“I grew up going to world-class sporting events with my dad. I was around so many Olympic athletes. I loved that side of sports. The marketing and prep to put on big events. Hearing them make deals for sponsorships.”
