Her heart didn’t pound, it slammed to a standstill. It probably left thick red skid marks all over her lungs from how fast it threw on the brakes. Kyle Lockhart, her best friend in the world, was down on one knee in front of her station at the gift-wrapping booth. Which meant it was okay her heart had stopped, because she had to be dreaming. Her heart didn’t need to pump in a dream, right? There was no other explanation for why Kyle would propose to her. Not that she objected in the least. He was super handsome, in a casually elegant yet decidedly sexy manner. His designer suits covered a body like those of the models in perfume ads, the toned and tanned men who dove into swimming pools shaped like a perfume bottle and came up glistening and wet. Thick black hair set off his blue eyes, and you could probably chisel a sculpture off his sharp cheekbones and jaw. Kyle was yummy from head to toe, and Caitlin had wanted him almost her entire life. Of course, he didn’t know about her massive crush.
