“What if we just went for a night?”
He looked around the dark room, confused. “A night?”
“Marry me,” I said without hesitation. I was surprised at how quickly and easily the words came.
His mouth spread into a broad smile. “When?”
I shrugged. “We can book a flight tomorrow. It’s spring break. I don’t have anything going on tomorrow, do you?”
“I’m callin’ your bluff,” he said, reaching for his phone. “American Airlines,” he said, watching my reaction closely as he was connected. “I need two tickets to Vegas, please. Tomorrow. Hmmmm …” he looked at me, waiting for me to change my mind. “Two days, round trip. Whatever you have.”
I rested my chin on his chest, waiting for him to book the tickets. The longer I let him stay on the phone, the wider his smile became.
“Yeah … uh, hold on a minute,” he said, pointing to his wallet. “Grab my card, would ya, Pidge?” He waited again for my reaction. I happily leaned over, pulled his credit card from his wallet, and handed it to him.
Travis called out the numbers to the agent, glancing up at me after each set. When he gave the expiration date and saw my lack of protesting, he pressed his lips together. “Er, yes, ma’am. We’ll just pick them up at the desk. Thank you.”
He handed me his phone and I sat it on the night table, waiting for him to speak.
“You just asked me to marry you,” he said, still waiting for me to admit some kind of trickery.
“I know.”
“That was the real deal, you know. I just booked two tickets to Vegas for noon tomorrow. So that means we’re getting married tomorrow night.”
“Thank you.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re going to be Mrs. Maddox when you start classes on Monday.”
“Oh,” I said, looking around.
Travis raised an eyebrow. “Second thoughts?”
“I’m going to have some serious paperwork to change next week.”
He nodded slowly, cautiously hopeful. “You’re going to marry me tomorrow?”
I smiled. “Uh-huh.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yep.”
“I fucking love you!” He grabbed each side of my face, slamming his lips against mine. “I love you so much, Pigeon,” he said, kissing me over and over.
“Just remember that in fifty years when I’m still kicking your ass in poker,” I giggled.
He smiled, triumphant. “If it means sixty or seventy years with you, baby … you have my full permission to do your worst.”
I raised one eyebrow. “You’re gonna regret that.”
“I bet I won’t.”
I smiled with as much deviance as I could muster. “Are you confident enough to bet that shiny bike outside?”
He shook his head, a serious expression replacing the teasing smile he had just seconds before. “I’ll put in everything I have. I don’t regret a single second with you, Pidge, and I never will.”
I held out my hand and he took it without hesitation, shaking it once and then bringing it to his mouth, pressing his lips tenderly against my knuckles. The room was quiet, his lips leaving my skin and the air escaping his lungs the only sound.