I went to bed, curled up in the sheets that still smelled like us, and tossed and turned all night.

At 5 A.M., I finally got up, threw on some clothes, got in my car, and headed for Monterey Regional Airport.

I was crashing through.

Chapter fifteen

I had zero plan. I had no idea what I was going to do or what I was going to say. All I knew was that I was barreling toward the tiny Monterey airport wearing Lucas’ shirt, old jeans, and a nervous grin.

I slalomed through the few cars that were out at this hour, driving way too fast through the morning fog. I didn’t know what airline, I didn’t know where he was connecting through; all I knew was that he was on some six thirty flight that I was bound and determined to . . . to what?

Hell, I’d figure that part out when I got there. When I saw him—the only person I’d thought about since I got off the phone with my past the night. And after being able to finally, amicably part with my past, I knew that I wanted only one person for my future.

I pulled into short-term parking, grabbed a ticket, and ran for the main terminal. I pushed through a throng of travelers, and spied a familiar face.

“Dr. Campbell!” I cried out, breathing heavily. The chocolate pudding hoard was beginning to take its toll; my cardio was crap. I ran on, pushing through the stitch of pudding in my side. “Dr. Campbell!”

“Chloe?” he called back. “What are you doing here?”

“Lucas . . . Is he . . . still here? I need . . . I need . . . Crap, I need to start jogging . . . again . . . Lucas?”

“He just went through security,” Lucas’s dad said, looking confused. “Are you okay?”

Dammit! I looked toward the space beyond the huge security line, but didn’t see him. Dammit again. “Yeah,” I said, still searching. “I just wanted to see him before he left, and tell him—”

There! Right there, a redhead above all the others! Six foot three, remember?

“Lucas!” I shouted, and took off in a sprint. Barreling toward security, I saw him look around, as confused as his father.

“Chloe?”

I didn’t care that he’d already gone through security and was still holding his shoes; I just ran. I didn’t even see the other passengers. I also didn’t see the TSA agent coming for me as True Love attempted to trump Homeland Security.

For the record, it does not.

Suddenly a scanning wand was waving in front of my face. “Just where do you think you’re going?” an irritated voice asked. The TSA agent, a rather large woman, was standing there with one hand holding her wand, the other hand on her can of . . . ah, shit . . . mace.

“Sorry, so sorry, I was just trying to get . . . his! His attention!” I jumped up and down again, pointing to Lucas on the other side of the glass partition. I could see him, he could see me, but there was an entire line of people, the X-ray machine, and the TSA staff between us. “Sorry, I just have to tell him that I . . . That I . . .”

The agent frowned at me. “Ma’am, do you have an airline ticket?”

“No, I’m not going anywhere. I just need to tell him—”

“Ma’am, then you can’t be down here,” she said, starting to turn me around. Her walkie-talkie went off, and she said into it, “I’ve got it. She just wants to talk to some dude who already went through. Nope, it’s under control.” She looked back at me. “Ma’am, do you have any idea what you did?”

“Yes, I cut ahead of some people in line. I know it was rude of me—”

“You cut ahead of some people in line at an airport. You came running at the security entrance, screaming your head off, at an airport. You looked like you were going to try to crash through a federal security checkpoint at an airport,” she said, her tone getting more and more serious. “It wasn’t rude—it was incredibly stupid.”

“Oh my God,” I moaned.

Lucas, standing there with a “what the fudge” look on his face, called, “Are you okay?”

“I think so?” I called back, then turned to the TSA agent. I snuck a quick peek at her name tag. Standing tall, shoulders squared, one foot posed slightly in front of the other, I gave her my best smile. “Monica—can I call you Monica?”

“Where is this going?” she asked, looking at me like I was a little crazy.

I couldn’t blame her, but pressed on. “Monica, I’d like to thank you for your service to our fine country. It makes my heart proud to see such a strong female protecting our airports, here in the great state of California and around our nation. As a former Miss Golden State, and a lifetime resident of California, I’ve had the great privilege of visiting all parts of our beautiful state, often by air travel. And every time I have, I’m always so grateful for the tireless work that you, and all of your highly trained and competent coworkers, do every day to keep us safe. So, thanks for the warning, and let’s keep California and America flying high,” I finished, beaming at her.

Several of the other TSA agents had leaned in to listen as well, and I shared my winning smile with them all.

“Sweetie, you feeling okay?” she asked, patting me on the shoulder.

“Truth?” I asked, still smiling.

“Oh, I think you’d better.”

“See that guy, the redheaded dude?” I pointed.

“Louis?”

“Well, Lucas, but yes.”

“Uh-huh?”