Marrying Daisy Bellamy. Сьюзен Виггс

known as Meerskill Falls, draping a plunging gorge like a bride’s veil. At the top, almost indistinguishable, were hills and cliffs punctured by the famous ice caves, another place she and Julian had explored.

      She was tense, thinking about the past, and so she shifted gears, aiming her thoughts to the present moment.

      Finally, they came to the most familiar, most beloved landmark of all—Camp Kioga.

      She reached over and touched Julian’s arm. “It’s so beautiful,” she said.

      The gardens and sports courts were pristine. Window boxes with flowers in bloom decked the cabins, bungalows and bunkhouses clustered at the water’s edge. The grand pavilion dominated the landscape. A few kayaks were paddling around Spruce Island, a small green atoll crowned by a gazebo. A catboat skimmed by, its sail flying, offering a welcome glimpse of summer.

      “Want to take the controls?” asked Julian.

      “Are you kidding? Show me what to do.”

      He had her grip the controls. “The key is to have a light touch. No sudden movements, don’t try to force anything.”

      “Got it.” Very gently, she eased back and the plane climbed. She felt the way she imagined a kite would feel, or a bird with wings spread wide, riding the very air itself. I love this, she thought. I could do this forever.

      “I’ll take over for landing,” Julian said after a while.

      He guided the plane into a downward glide toward an isolated area of the lake designated for float planes. The touchdown was smooth and exhilarating, and within minutes, they were tied up at the dock.

      Daisy put her arms around him and jumped up in another full body hug. It felt so good to be held by him. “That was magical,” she said. “Thank you so much.” Every nerve ending tingled as he set her down on the dock.

      “What’s that face?” he asked, breaking in on her thoughts.

      “What face? I don’t have a face.”

      “Right.”

      Her heart sped up. Time to speak up—that difficult conversation she’d imagined this morning hovered on the edge of her consciousness. This was her first opening. It might be her only chance before he was sent off to Timbuktu. She took a deep breath, and the words rushed out: “I love you, that’s what.”

      He froze, staring at her.

      She couldn’t believe what had come out of her mouth. It was supposed to be I can’t let myself love you, our lives are leading us too far apart, there can’t be any future for us. Instead, she’d spoken from a place where the stark truth dwelled, a truth she couldn’t escape, even though it defied common sense.

      She wondered if the words had shocked him. She couldn’t read his expression, and that scared her. “I’ve never told you before,” she said. “I didn’t mean to blurt it out.” She’d really blown it now, deviating from the script that had seemed so sensible in her hotel room this morning.

      Even though it felt as reckless as one of Julian’s stunts, she couldn’t stop herself. “I’m glad,” she rushed on foolishly. “I’m glad I said it, because I mean it. I’ve felt this way for a long time, forever and I keep waiting for it to go away, but the opposite is happening. It’s only getting worse.”

      He still hadn’t said anything, and she still couldn’t make herself shut up. “I can’t stop thinking about you. When I went away to Germany, I expected to get over you. To get over everything. Instead, I ended up missing you so much it hurt. Seriously, it hurt like I’d been stabbed or something. And when I got back, I loved you just as much—no, more. It doesn’t make any sense. It doesn’t seem right, but—”

      He strode forward with a look on his face she’d never seen before. It was as intense as rage but different. She still hadn’t figured it out when he caught her against him, stopping her with a kiss. A long, searching kiss that was tender but commanding, all-consuming, leaving her breathless. His lips were softer than she remembered, his taste sweeter. They had kissed before, but there was something different going on here, a peculiar emotion that grabbed at her heart with a special intensity. She curled her fists into his arms, feeling the rock-hard muscles shaped by relentless and rigorous training. He tasted like something wild, like raw honey, maybe, and in that moment she was so caught up that her ears rang.

      A breakup wasn’t supposed to start with a kiss. Although technically, she wasn’t breaking up with him, because she’d never been … with him.

      Finally he pulled back, but only far enough away to say, “I love you, too, Daze. I always have. I’m sorry I didn’t say it first.”

      She felt dizzy, as if she were still flying. “I’m not sorry.” She sank against his chest, feeling exhausted, as if she’d run a mile. It was one of those flawless days on Willow Lake, the water perfectly still down to its mysterious depths, and the wind so quiet, she could hear both their hearts beating. Being here with him made her feel safe and protected, as if no harm could ever come to her.

      They kissed some more, their mouths lazing and lingering like wordless promises. Daisy was filled with a soaring sense of liberation at having spoken her truth—and the stunning joy of knowing he returned her love. She wished the moment could last forever, but slowly, inevitably, he pulled back. Placing a tender kiss on her forehead, he whispered, “What time are you supposed to pick up Charlie?”

      Charlie. Her beloved reality. “Logan’s flexible,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

      “I’m not ready to share you yet,” he said, “not even with my favorite rug rat.”

      Her thoughts flickered to the conversation she was supposed to be having with him. “Then I’m all yours for a while longer.”

      “Good.” He took an insulated green bag out of the cargo bay. “I brought lunch.”

      “Julian!”

      He laughed. “I know, right? Romance at its finest.”

      “Did you, like, look this up online, under ‘how to organize the perfect date?’”

      “What, you don’t think I could’ve thought of this on my own?”

      “The plane, yes. But a picnic?”

      “Okay. I had help with that.”

      “Help?”

      “I kind of became a favorite of the dining hall ladies. They like guys who eat a lot.”

      “Then they must be totally in love with you. I’ve seen you eat, Julian. It’s … epic.”

      He set the bag in a skiff that was moored to the dock. Then he took her hand and helped her in.

      “I assume you have permission to use the boat.”

      “Ma’am, I’m an officer in the United States Air Force. Stealing is no longer an option.”

      “You planned this.”

      “Yeah. Didn’t want to leave anything to chance today.”

      There was a feeling she always had around him, something she’d never found with any other person. It was a sense of complete and utter joy, mingled with freedom. There were many people she loved in her life, but no one she loved like this. A part of her wanted to explain it to him, to share that, but not now. One day, maybe.

      The trouble with her and Julian was that “one day” for them was hard to pin down. Impossible, really. That was the conversation they needed to have. She didn’t want to say it and spoil this perfect day.

      She shook off the thought and settled in the bow of the boat, facing backward. She didn’t know where they were headed. Didn’t really care. Bracing her arms behind her, she tipped back her head and shut her eyes to enjoy the soft warmth of the sun on her face.

      “I feel like Cleopatra.”