When the Heart Falls(10)

"Really? I thought he was positively charming, myself." The cowboy winks, and my body finally relaxes completely.

I hold out my hand. "I'm Winter by the way."

His hand is so warm and strong, and he grips mine with just the right amount of pressure. "I know your name."

I cock my head, confused. "You do?"

His eyes twinkle with friendly mischief. "I believe your cousin, Daring, used it in her letter to you."

My hand drops to my side, and my face heats up. "Oh, right. Yeah, about that… "

"I'm Cade. And you don't need to be embarrassed. Your cousin was probably just trying to be… helpful."

I choke out a laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure. Helpful. Well, Cade, it's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. Now, I don't mean to be rude. But may I please pass you, Winter? I need to use the bathroom somethin' fierce."

"Oh, of course!" I move to the side and we face each other while he edges by. For the briefest of moments our bodies press together, my breasts against his hard chest, our faces inches apart. He pauses and tilts his head, as if studying me.

This close, I can smell him, like sun and hay and something minty. Le sigh.

The moment is broken as he proceeds to the bathroom and I take my seat, lost in thought and daydreaming about my future. I shove thoughts of the sexy cowboy aside, though. He might be excellent romance material for a book, but he's not really my type in real life, whatever my type is.

I look up when Cade sits next to me, our bodies once again touching in the narrow seats.

"You okay, Winter?" He buckles his seat without breaking eye contact.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why? Don't I look okay?"

He gestures to my hands. "You're shaking."

He's right, but I didn't realize it. I lace my fingers together and breathe to calm my nerves. "I'm just really excited."

Now that we're actually sitting still, I have a chance to study him more closely. He's a perfectly chiseled specimen of a man, from his defined jaw and cheeks, to his deep blue eyes, to his strong hands with long, graceful fingers. His only flaw is a fine scar just over his right eyebrow that disappears under his hat and hairline.

"First time on an airplane?" he asks, his accent drawing every syllable out like a caress.

"First time away from home." Realizing that I must sound like a child, I backtrack. "Like, away, away. Of course, I've actually left my house before."

He chuckles. "Of course. So you're from New York?"

"Born and bred. You?"

"Texas. I like New York though. I had a twenty-four hour layover here so I did some sightseeing. Real nice town. Might move here myself, someday."

I've never heard anyone refer to New York City as a 'real nice town' and it makes me smile. "I like it here, too, but traveling must be in the Deveaux blood. Four of my five sisters and my cousin have all moved away for school and their careers. I'm one of the last left. But now I'm moving too."

"Where?"

"Paris. I'm staying on once the summer ends. At least, I hope I am. That's the plan if all goes well. So why did you leave Texas for Paris?"

He's silent for so long I'm not sure if he's going to answer me, but finally he says, "Architecture."

"Paris does have some nice buildings."

He smiles and sinks into his seat. "Yes, it does. Notre Dame, Versailles, Mont Saint-Michel. This has been a dream of mine for a long time."

"What's Mont Saint-Michel?"

His face lights up as he talks. "It's this little island up in northern France. The whole island is a stronghold. It's like this castle in the middle of the sea."

His enthusiasm is contagious, and stories swirl around in my head, imagining the lives of the people who once lived in a castle like that. "Sounds pretty awesome."

"It's beautiful. One of the reasons I chose this French class to go with is because the itinerary includes Mont Saint-Michel as well as several other spots I'm right anxious to see. So, why are you coming to Paris?"

"I want to write romance novels, and Paris has, you know, a lot of romance." I wait for him to make fun of me, to call romance novels 'mommy porn' or criticize them for being the equivalent of literary junk food, but he surprises me.

"Love is the cornerstone of the human experience. To capture the essence of romantic love in story takes real talent and skill. I'm impressed. But why Paris? Doesn't New York have romance too?"

I'm still basking in his words about love, but I shrug and try not to think about the kind of romance I've experienced in New York. "I guess. It's just… you ever feel like getting away? Leaving your old troubles behind, maybe getting some new ones?"

Cade smiles like we shared a private joke. "Yes I do." He doesn't pry any further, for which I'm grateful.

It surprises me that I'm enjoying this conversation so much, a conversation with a sexy guy who might actually be a good friend. "So, are you like a cowboy or something?"

"Hey, not everyone from Texas is a cowboy. That's a gross stereotype." He pauses and grins. "But yes, ma'am. I am indeed a cowboy."

"I knew it! I've never met a real cowboy before."