He was sweating, the drops glistening on his upper lip. And he was talking so fast that Gin couldn’t do anything but let the words click into her mind, into her heart, one by one.
“So. That’s it. My speech.” He took a deep breath. “With one more part. I love you.”
The sun burst out again, setting golden light and thick shadows around them, warming their backs and their heads. Gin tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at him a second longer. Considered all she knew and didn’t know about love. Wondered if she could parse it out, understand it well enough to make an informed statement.
Then she took a deep breath. “I love you too.” Once she had said it, once the words were out, the feeling became more solid. More real. Like she had to say it first for it to be anything. And there it was. Something true. She loved Felix. No matter what any model said or didn’t say, she loved him.
He pulled her in tight, his hands warm on her face, and kissed her. And she kissed him back, their mouths knitting themselves together, so close and warm, mixed with the breeze and the river and the sun. She breathed him in, deep, and turned her mind off. Because sometimes, things were better without thinking.
“I missed you.” He tucked his face against hers.
“I missed you too.”
There was this rustling of wings, almost like a breeze, and a small wedge of blackness overhead. A crow was flying by. Strong and steady and beautiful.
“Come on,” Felix said. “Let’s go back and see them. Want to?”
And of course, she did.
// Acknowledgments
Big thanks to Laura, fantastic first-draft sounding board; computer modeling wizards, including Matt, who helped me understand Gin’s world; agent extraordinaire, Beth Campbell, for taking a chance on me; the team at Amberjack Publishing for bringing this book to life; Carolyn and Jerry for unwavering love and support; and Helen for paving the way in the writing world. Extra special thanks to Karen, for her effervescent enthusiasm and tech know-how, and for tirelessly listening to storylines at the beach. To my parents, for making sure my childhood was filled with books, loving me so well, and believing I could do anything. To my daughters, for sharing their mom with her imaginary friends. And always to Tim, who has supported me every step of the way.
// About the Author
Susan Cunningham lives in the Colorado Rocky Mountains with her husband and two daughters. She enjoys science nearly as much as writing: she’s traveled to the bottom of the ocean via submarine to observe life at hydrothermal vents, camped out on an island of birds to study tern behavior, and now spends time in an office analyzing data on wool apparel. She blogs about writing and science at susancunninghambooks.com.
Crow Flight Page 27
