Paris Is Always a Good Idea - Jenn McKinlay Page 0,138

was useless, as he was laughing and clapping along with the rest of them.

It was then that I felt her, or rather me, the old me. The one who would have thought this was hilarious and romantic and lovely. She would have been absolutely swept off her feet by this ridiculous display. I glanced down. My feet were on the ground, but my heart—my heart was soaring.

“Well, what’s it gonna be, darling?” Impatient, Jason dropped the towel an inch. Eep!

“Fine. All right. Enough.” I lifted my chin. I met Jason’s gaze and said, “You are an ass.”

He grinned, completely unrepentant. “And?”

“And I love you,” I said. This was met with much approval and a smidgeon of disappointment by the crowd.

Marcellino, clearly sensing we needed privacy, offered free wine samples, and in moments, we were standing alone in front of the castle with Jason in his towel and me with a spectacular case of bedhead and no bra. A perfect pair.

“Say it again,” he said as he took a step closer.

“I love you,” I said. I moved toward him until we were inches apart. “Totally and completely.”

A look of relief passed over his face, followed swiftly by one of pure joy, and I noted that this time when he smiled, both corners of his lips tipped up. He cleared his throat. “Chelsea Martin, just to be clear, are you saying that of all the men you’ve loved before, you choose me?”

“Yes, I choose you, Jason Knightley.” I met his gaze, letting all the love I felt for him show on my face. “But you can never lie to me again.”

He winced. “In the interest of full disclosure, I have to admit I totally saw your amazing rack the day of ‘the incident.’”

“I knew it!” I cried. I would have taken a swing at him, but he swooped in and kissed me full on the lips, making me forget I was mad. When I pulled back, my brain was scrambled, but I managed to say, “Promise me, no more fibs, lies, or prevarications of any kind for any reason.”

“Never again, I promise.” He went to raise his right hand, and his towel slipped. I grabbed it, saving him from flashing an incoming busload of tourists.

“Knightley,” I chastised him as he wrapped both arms around me, hugging me close.

“It’s okay. I gotcha, Martin,” he said.

And then he kissed me again, passionately, in the middle of a vineyard in Tuscany, and I knew the feelings were real. Because I’d finally, after so many years, released my grief and pain and let happiness in.

I’d done it. I’d found myself again. I’d found my laughter, and I remembered, oh, how I remembered, what it felt like to be in love. Because right now I was quite desperately in love with Jason with my whole heart. And best of all, he was in love with me, too.

epilogue

YOU DID WELL in the ceremony, Martin,” Jason said. He was looking particularly dapper in a navy-blue suit with a light-blue dress shirt that made his eyes a deep ocean blue that I wished I could dive right into to escape this day. No such luck.

“And you’re smokin’ hot,” he added. I snorted.

“Having fantasies about deflowering the flower girl, are you?” I asked.

“You know it,” he said. He leaned close and whispered in my ear in a gruff growl that made my pupils dilate. “I can’t wait to get you out of this dress.”

I laughed, sending the big fat curls Sheri had requested bobbing across my shoulders. “That makes two of us, but I’m thinking for slightly different reasons.”

The June day was warm, and the pink satin bodice of my flower girl dress was horribly constricting. Despite the itchy crinoline that puffed my skirt out a few feet, Jason held me close, keeping his arm around my waist as he led me to our table. Annabelle was already there with her boyfriend du jour, and when she caught sight of me in my matching dress, she lifted her wineglass in a toast. I knew it was her way of showing respect.

I had shown up, worn the dreaded dress, strewn the flower petals, and been the model of an accepting adult participating in her father’s remarriage. The one thing that made it all bearable was looking at my father’s face and seeing his big, goofy smile whenever he gazed at his bride. He was cuckoo bananas in love, and now that I fully appreciated how that felt, I sincerely hoped that never