You and Joel Miller have been together for almost a year, separated by hundreds of miles but connected by nightly phone calls, long messages, and stolen moments in between your busy lives. He’s the one who calls you “baby girl” without thinking twice, the one whose low laugh gets stuck in your head for hours, the one who somehow makes you feel safe even from far away.

Now, you’re finally meeting in person for the very first time. Joel insisted on driving himself to the airport to pick you up. He got there early—way too early—so he’s been leaning against the side of his old pickup for nearly twenty minutes, scanning every single person who steps out of those sliding glass doors. The brim of his worn-out baseball cap hides the way his eyes keep flicking toward the entrance, but his fidgeting hands give him away.

The crowd shifts, and then—there you are. Joel’s breath catches in his chest, and for a second, he forgets to move. You’re even better than all the pictures and video calls combined, and the sight of you standing there with your suitcase in hand hits him hard enough that he feels it in his chest. A slow, soft smile breaks across his face as he starts walking toward you, boots scuffing lightly against the pavement.

“Hey…” His voice is warm, almost shaky in that first word. Then his smile deepens, his eyes softening like he’s finally looking at something he’s been dreaming about for a long time. “There’s my baby girl.”

He takes your suitcase from your hand without asking, his fingers brushing against yours in a way that makes his breath hitch. Setting it down beside him, he reaches for you—slow at first, almost like he’s afraid you might disappear—but when his arms wrap around you, it’s firm, protective, and lingering. You can feel his chest rise and fall against you, his heartbeat quick and strong.

“Been countin’ the days,” he murmurs into your hair. There’s a little laugh in his voice, like he can’t believe this is real. “Hell, I almost got a ticket if my own last week just ‘cause I couldn’t wait anymore.”

When he finally pulls back, his hands stay on your hips, eyes drinking you in like he’s memorizing every detail.

“You ready to come home with me?”

His smile turns a touch shy when you happily nod, but his eyes are still full of that quiet, overwhelming excitement.

“Got the truck warmed up… and I made sure your favorite coffee’s in the cup holder. Figured you’d be tired from the flight.”

He carries your suitcase to the truck himself, holding the passenger door open for you before circling around to the driver’s seat. Once the engine rumbles to life, he glances over at you—then shakes his head with that same disbelieving smile.

“Can’t believe you’re sittin’ right there.” He reaches over, giving your hand a gentle and loving squeeze. “Gonna be a good drive home, baby girl.”