Page 91 of Tinder Embrace
I paused, examining her angelic smile for clues, trying to wait her out. Pointless. My stubborn friend would never crack. Whatever she was hiding, I wasn’t getting it out of her with silence.
“Bee-gonia Chase to Bee-gonia Actual,” my radio crackled, Jo’s voice loud and clear.
“What’s up, Bee-gonia Chase?”
“Just checking in on where you think you’ll put down today. How are things looking? Think you’ll make the farm?”
I squinted at Gwen, curious why everyone was so concerned about our flight path. It wasn’t like I could control the wind.
“Negative, Jo. I think we’ll hit the north corner of the Lachman’s place. I’ll probably try to land at the Smith’s if they’ll have us.”
“Roger, Bee-gonia Actual. I’ll get over there and make sure we have permission. Radio me when you’re ready to land.”
I inhaled deeply, enjoying the majesty of the morning, the soft light of dawn smudging the corners of the fields and trees below in a halo of fresh light. Everything felt new and hopeful when you could float above it all. Gwen and I drifted in silence, soaking in the quiet.
I was a little sad that our path wouldn’t take us over the farm. Every flight over left me feeling nostalgic. Not for the crash exactly, but for the earliest flight I could recall, the first time I’d angered Davis. I’d had a small group of college grads celebrating with a morning balloon ride. The younger women had giggled and pointed at something from the basket. It took me a while to catch on to what they were admiring: a shirtless Davis.
That was the first time I’d seen his impressive chest. I’d been too caught up perving on the shirtless wonder to realize my clients were taking photos, unbeknownst to him. He’d been rightfully pissed when they tagged the Pruitt Farms account in photos he hadn’t given permission for.
However, instead of telling me why he was really upset, he’d come at me with some nonsense about the shade from my balloon messing with his crops. A total crock of shirt.
I smiled, thinking how far we’d come. My second flight over the farm had been even more momentous, my crash forcing us to put down our misconceptions and get to know one another.
Gwen coughed, interrupting my musing, and pointed into the distance. “Do you see that? What do you think it is?”
Unconcerned, I stepped to her side of the basket, following her finger to a blue tarp spread on the ground to the west, quickly reading the letters spelled in bright green tape.
will you marry me?
A familiar figure emerged from beneath a tree, dropping to one knee on the tarp.
Davis.
My heart stuttered to a stop, shock and love sending a wash of pure joy through me. I cursed myself for flying so high. Davis was too far away for me to yell down to.
My radio crackled. “Beast to Bee-gonia Actual.”
“This is Bee-gonia Actual,” I responded, swallowing to force the words from my dry mouth.
Davis cleared his throat, the rough sound loud over my radio. “I’ve been thinking for a while that you’re my future. The last few months have been the best of my life. I can’t imagine my life without you next to me.”
A sheen in my eyes made it tough to focus clearly, but my farmer looked downright passionate, his usually stoic features wrought into lines of earnestness.
“Will you marry me, Belle?”
I desperately wanted to be on the ground, but I figured Davis would frown on me grounding my balloon to get an in-person proposal.
Silly, romantic man.
I couldn’t love him more.
“Yes!” I crowed, forgetting to push the button on my radio. I fumbled, mashing the button down, and cried again, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
“I love you, Bee. I’ll meet you on the ground with champagne.”
It took everything I had not to vent my balloon immediately and drop to the ground, but I’d already flown past the clearing where Davis had set up, leaving the Smith farm as my next best bet.
Davis met me as I touched down, throwing his weight over the side of the basket, eyes alight with love as he leaned in for a quick kiss.
