Dawson had never had to go to the bathroom quite so badly. And the plane had been on the ground for fifteen minutes already, but another one was still loading at their gate and the pilot couldn’t pull in.

His leg bounced, and he felt sure he should get up and head to the back of the aircraft, despite the several warnings that had been given. We can’t move if someone is out of their seat.

Blah blah blah.

His bladder was going to explode.

One more minute, he coached himself. You can wait one more minute. The plane’s going to move any minute now….

Thankfully, it did, and they arrived at their gate several minutes later. His heart pumped out an extra beat at the thought of seeing Charlotte as he came out of the airport. But he tamped down the excitement, as she still hadn’t responded to any of his messages.

The seatbelt light went off and people moved. Bins opened and the aisle filled. Dawson held very still for two reasons—one, the bathroom issue was serious and he’d be moving very little and quite slow until that was taken care of.

And second, his phone had just lit up and notified him of a missed call.

A missed call from Charlotte.

Emotion choked in the back of his throat as he stared at her name. No voicemail, and the timestamp on the call was that moment, but he knew she hadn’t just called.

Or had she?

A flurry of texts came in too, and Dawson paused in his movement toward calling her back.

“She texted too,” he said under his breath, ignoring the activity around him.

Got your message this morning. Busy day yesterday. On my way.

A smile pulled across his face, widening until he felt he must look like a clown.

On my way.

In that moment, he didn’t know of any other three-word phrases he loved more. He got to his feet when it was his row’s turn, collected his bag from the overhead bin and edged down the aisle, his hopes soaring somewhere at ten-thousand feet above the Pacific Ocean.

He wanted to run straight out of the airport and wrap his arms around the woman he loved, but he really did need to use the restroom first.

With all his needs met, he started toward the exit, much slower than he’d originally thought he would. What if she wasn’t there?

He had no way of knowing when she’d sent those messages, and she could be on her way still. The crowd in front of him constantly shifted and moved as people went different directions. He scanned the area just beyond security, where families and loved ones waited for those coming off flights.

Charlotte couldn’t be found. His heart sank, and he steeled himself for disappointment.

But it was more than disappointment. The emotion filling him felt soul-crushing, full of lead, and dark.

Then someone lifted a sign above their heads and it had a helicopter drawn on it in black marker. He paused, his name clearly spelled out behind it.

The woman holding the sign pushed forward against the ropes that had been set up, and there was Dawson’s beautiful Charlotte.

Their eyes locked, and she bounced on the balls of her feet, a smile on her face and tears running down her cheeks. She waved the sign a little as if he hadn’t seen it, and that somehow got Dawson’s legs to move faster.

He rushed toward her, laughter bubbling out of his mouth. At some point he abandoned his carryon, because he needed both hands to grab onto Charlotte.

She giggled too as he swept her up, holding her tight against him.

“I’m so glad you came,” he said into her hair before taking a deep breath of it.

He set her on her feet, and moved his hands to her face, wanting to feel her, make sure she was real and not a figment of his imagination. “You came. I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I didn’t think I’d make it.” She smiled and he wiped her tears with his thumbs.

“I love you,” he said, unsure of what else to say to help her understand. “And I know you’re not ready to hear it, but I have to say it. You have to give me another chance. I can’t—I miss you too much.”

She shook her head, and Dawson’s hope plummeted. “You don’t get another chance. I’m the one who needs another chance. I’m the one who messed up.”

“Babe, you can have as many chances as you need.” He searched her eyes, trying to figure out what was happening, where this was going.

“I’ve decided something,” she said, her arms around him so wonderful and so right.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. This year sucked for me.”

He found that raw vulnerability in her eyes, but she blinked and determination replaced it.

“I want next year to be better. I want to start the year off right, and finish it with a bang.”

Dawson had no idea where she was going with this. “All right,” he said anyway.

“And I want you in it,” she said. “Every day, all year long. I want to learn something new about you every day, and kiss you every day, and hear you say I love you every day.” She peered up into his eyes. “Do you think you can do that?”

Dawson took a moment to register everything she’d said. “I think I can manage,” he finally said.

A smile touched her lips, drawing his attention there. “Good,” she said. “Because I love you too, Dawson Dane.”

He felt as if someone had shocked him right behind the ribs, and he barely had time to process the electricity flowing through him before she tipped up and kissed him.

He was vaguely aware of the people around them cheering and clapping. From far away, someone told him he couldn’t leave his bag in the middle of the hall. Finally, a stern voice said, “Folks, you’re gonna have to take this outside.”

Only then did Dawson pull away from the best kiss of his life and look the security guard in the face. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, yes, sir.”

The guard indicated Dawson’s bag, and he took it, finding a twinkle in the man’s eye and a smile on his face just before he tucked Charlotte into his side and headed for the sunshine beyond the automatic doors.

They took Charlotte’s car to the beach, which was fine with Dawson. He’d live twenty-seven hours today, and if she wanted to navigate the lunchtime traffic to her office parking lot, he didn’t care.

“What are we doing here?” he asked, peering out the windshield. Because the wedding planner building was farther down the beach, only a sandwich shop and a convenience store sat anywhere close as viable options to eat.

“I just want to walk along the beach for a few minutes,” she said. “Are you starving?”

He could eat, but the need to talk with Charlotte teemed just beneath his tongue, so he said, “Let’s walk. If we see something along the way, we’ll stop.”

She met him at the front of the car, and he took her hand in his a little tentatively. Charlotte didn’t say anything, as per her usual and past behavior. Dawson waited, hoping he wouldn’t blurt out something that would prevent her from saying what she needed to.

“My parents are coming for Christmas,” she finally said when her sandaled feet first touched the wetter sand near the shore.

Dawson paused, so many things firing inside him at once. “They are? You spoke to them?” And would he have to meet them? He hadn’t met a woman’s parents in such a long time, he wasn’t even sure how to do it.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I went to Oahu after I called you and…broke up with you. I’m sorry, Dawson.” She turned toward him, a storm of feelings flitting around her face. “I was wrong about a lot of things, but you deserved better than a phone break up.”

“It’s fine,” Dawson heard himself say, though he hadn’t appreciated her behavior. “I mean, I was pretty…I don’t know.” He hadn’t really been angry. Definitely desperate.

“You went to see your family,” she said. “Why?”

“Honestly?” Dawson tugged on her hand to get her moving again. They strolled slowly, the steps barely moving them down the beach. “Because you weren’t here, and I didn’t want to be in Getaway Bay if you were gone.”

There, he’d said it. He’d already told her he loved her, but she had to know he needed her too. Wanted her.

“I’m back, because Stephen needs me for tours.”

She nodded, the wind coming off the bay this winter day grabbing onto her hair and pulling. “In Oahu, I did a bunch of hiking and soul-searching. I called my friends and my parents. I got some things out of my system that had been poisoning me. I worked through some feelings I’d been harboring since the divorce. Well, before that, but yeah.”

Dawson squeezed her fingers. “Those must have been hard conversations.”

“They were,” she said. “And I still haven’t talked to Wilma.”

“Ah.” So she wasn’t one-hundred percent whole. He didn’t care, because she’d healed enough to see him, at least, standing right there and offering her something real. Offering her his heart. His love.

“Anyway, I realized I didn’t want to lose you the way I’d lost my parents, but when I got back, you were gone.”

“You could’ve called,” he said gently, hoping it didn’t sound like an accusation.

“Yeah.” She glanced up at him and tucked her hair behind her ear with her free hand. “But I was scared.”

Dawson released her hand and swept it around her waist, pulling her against him. “I get it, Charlotte. I do. But we have to be able to talk to each other. No fear. No judgment. Okay?”

She sniffed, nodded, and said, “Okay.”

Dawson’s heart swelled with love for this woman. True, she might still need more time. Sure, she might not be all the way whole. But he believed she was his, and he wanted nothing more than to be by her side while she worked through everything.

“Then the wedding came,” she said. “And I wanted to call you, because I could see that love was real. Claudia and David, they loved each other. My parents, they love each other. And I wanted to tell you I loved you.”

A grin spread across Dawson’s face. “I love you too, babe.”

“My phone died, the wedding took forever, whatever.” Charlotte drew in a deep breath. “I slept in, and by the time I got your messages, I had forty-five minutes to get to the airport. But I made it.”

“Yes,” he said. “You made it. And with a sign too.” He chuckled, seeing that black helicopter in his mind’s eye.

“The guy next to me helped me make it,” she said. “I explained everything to him real quick, and he drew the helicopter while I wrote your name. I think we finished about a minute before you came out.”

Dawson wanted to stay in this moment for a long time. The sunshine on his face. The breeze coming off the bay. Charlotte at his side, talking to him again.

They walked for several minutes in silence, and then he asked, “So, will I get to meet your parents?”