Молли Харпер - Nice Girls Don't Date Dead Men

“Well, we both know that’s not true. The point, which we rarely get to painlessly, is that I know that you wanted to spend some of your ill-gotten wealth on travel.”

I eyed him suspiciously. “What did you do?”

“Nothing yet, but you say the word, and we will be on a plane. I’ll keep my schedule open.

I figured we could start in London and work our way east. I want to be with you when you see the Bibliothèque Nationale de France, harass some poor gondolier in Venice with questions. I’ll even go to the Eiffel Tower if you want to be prosaic. Anywhere you want to go we’ll go.”

“Travel?” I asked. “For how long?”

“Until you get tired of me.”

“When can we leave?” I asked.

“From here, as far as I’m concerned,” he said.

“That’s a little quick.” I laughed. “But I would love to go. Soon. And we will go to the Eiffel Tower, thank you.”

“I knew it,” he said. “At heart, you’re just a sentimental romantic fool.”

I laughed again, watching as Jolene and Zeb circled the floor. Lord help me, I actually started misting up. “Sometimes.”

“Are you crying?” he asked, lifting my chin.

“No!”

“Sentimental, romantic fool,” he said again as I wiped at my eyes.

“I really hate this song,” I grumbled.

He twirled me out and dipped me. “Honey, let it go.”