Me: Everything is open for the taking. My heart. My life.
Clementine: Then I want it all.
* * *
Restlessly, I wait at the airport with a bouquet of orange and white wild lilies, each flower hand-picked by Cupid Extraordinaire, Merida. I must say, she’s taken the responsibilities of this self-assigned role quite seriously.
Last night, when I returned to my room after cleaning the kitchen, waiting for me on the bed was my tux. It took a lot of cajoling before we settled on a formal shirt, jeans, and jacket. This morning she set my trimmer to some different setting because girls like men with a five o’clock shadow.
I’m still not sure how I feel about her knowing that piece of information.
I run my hand over the fresh trim, and look around, feeling completely out of place.
I wonder what people would think about a forty-year-old man standing at the airport waiting for his twenty-five-year-old girlfriend.
Fucking hell!
I pull on the collar of the shirt, which all of a sudden feels too tight.
What the fuck am I doing?
I should wait in my car. Clementine can meet me in the parking lot. I’m about to dump the flowers in the shiny metal trash can, when a yellow bag catches my eye.
There she is!
Wearing a hot-pink skirt, white blouse with polka dots, and white heels, she looks breathtaking. I take a step forward in her direction, when a guy in tweed pants, a white turtleneck, and a tweed jacket lays his arm over her shoulder. What the fuck?
Before I can mull more over his presence, my gaze lands on Tony. Over the past weeks, we’ve been in close contact. Even though I’m not a fan of Irene Hawthorne, she did send one of her best people with Clementine.
Tony gives me a nod and I confirm that I can take care of Clementine from here. He waves at me before leaving for the exit.
I return my gaze to Clementine and the guy with her. I know who he is. Mere has shown me pictures of Ann with Vanessa and Clementine.
Yeah, that’s his name.
Ann says something to Clementine and she laughs. As ever, her entire face lights up, her cheek muscles rise, her eyes crinkle and lips pull up. I look at her and again at the guy who still has his hands on her.
He looks her age, my brain screams as my grip on the bouquet tightens.
Clementine scans the crowd while he continues to chatter. Her laugh stops when her gaze finds me. For a brief second, she closes her eyes before giving him a light hug and saying goodbye. She then saunters toward me, dragging her luggage behind.
Her every step feels like it’s landing on my heart, and by the time she’s close to me, I’m fucking panting like a dog.
Moments pass and we simply look at each other. I’m breathing hard, and so is she. My gaze momentarily lands on the distracting rise and fall of her chest.
“Hi.” I finally manage to get the word out.
And then in a clear Clementine Hawthorne move, she throws her arms around my neck. Nothing could have prepared me for the comfort that settles in my heart.
“You came?” she whispers.
“I told you I would.”
34
CLEMENTINE
I can’t help my gaze from wandering toward Keith as he starts his car.