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I would like to dedicate this book to the alphabet, for those twenty-six letters have changed my life. Within those twenty-six letters I found myself, and now I live my dream. Next time you say the alphabet, remember its power. I do every day.
“Impressing a woman you’re attracted to is crucial,”
“And do tell . . . how would you impress a woman you’re attracted to?”
“Offer her a window seat.”
“Did you give me the window seat so I would have to climb over you?”
“No, I gave you the window seat because you wanted it. Climbing over me was just an added bonus.”
“Are you flirting with me, Jim?”
“I don’t know. Am I?”
“I wish we were on a private jet.” “Why is that?”
“Because I’d break that drought of yours and initiate you into the Miles-High Club.”
“I have a boyfriend, and I can’t go out with you.” “Dump him,” he fires back. “What?” I croak. “You heard me. Dump him.”
“You’ve been watching me?” I gasp. “Why?” His dark eyes hold mine. “Because it turns me on.”
“Ask him if he feels like he might die if he doesn’t get to touch you again.” I frown. “Why would I ask him that?” I whisper. “Because there’s another man who does.” The phone clicks as he hangs up.
“But it was the way you kissed me that I remember the most.” My eyes search his. “How did I kiss you?” “Like you’d been waiting your whole life to kiss me.”
Maybe my expectations are too high from my book boyfriends in my romance novels—maybe Jameson was right on that one. But damn it, I want the fucking fairy tale for once.
“I packed your scarf in my luggage.” I smile softly. “It’s nothing new. I’ve taken it on every trip I’ve been on . . . since we met.”
I learned a lesson tonight—love comes in all shapes and sizes.
I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”
His.
“Thank you,” I whisper. Her eyes search mine. “For what?” “For finding me.”
“We were always going to find each other,” she whispers. “Soul mates do that.”
