Could it really be that easy, falling in love?

Seat 34D, right across the aisle.

Definitely sexy, seemingly rich, classically handsome, and that was just on the surface.

Matthew Donovan warned himself not to get ahead of himself, to not be...well, himself. At age thirty-six, he had a tendency to over think, or more appropriately, over-love. Pre-love, if such a notion was possible. It was a quality that had served him well in the non-profit sector, his ability to effuse over topics that others might have thought mundane. His enthusiasm spilled over to others, oftentimes bringing with them checks for large amounts to whatever charity Matt was peddling. After all, either in business or in life, you think with your brain and you love with your heart, and for a pie-in-the-sky dreamer like Matt, he always thought love was right around the corner. Or in this case, right across the aisle.

They had already met, at the bar while waiting for their flights to be called. Matt nursing a Grey Goose martini (his favorite), while the man in the finely tailored blazer sipped a refreshing white wine. He was tan, his fingers long and empty--meaning, no wedding band and no pale strip of skin where one should have been. Which could mean he's either single or one of those perennial cheaters who knows his way around an airport lounge--or maybe, just maybe, he was gay. Easily forty, his dark hair going to gray at the temples, he had crinkles at his eyes that Matt found oddly sexy.

"Where are you flying to?" the man had asked upon noticing Matt.

Matt of course had already scoped him out, sitting just two bar stools away. Terminal 8 at JFK was busy at eight o'clock at night, international flights scheduled throughout the evening hours for arrival in Europe the next morning. Matt's flight was at ten minutes after ten, and he'd left plenty of time to get through the increasingly difficult security checkpoint. Which now allowed him the chance to relax with a cool drink. The handsome man to his right had settled in moments after he had.

"Paris," Matt announced.

The man nodded. "Coincidence. Me, too. Flight 28?"

"Yeah, I think that's it."

Setting down his white wine, he extended his hand over the bar. "Name's Colton."

"Matt."

"Business or pleasure?"

What was Matt supposed to say? Not sure, it's complicated...see, I'm planning to fall in love, what category does that fall under? Truth be told, with the sky blue hue of this guy's eyes gazing right at him, Matt kind of thought it was already happening. "See a friend I haven't seen in a while."

"Great time of year to see Paris. You been before?"

"Long time ago. High school exchange program."

"Can't be that long ago. What are you, twenty-eight, twenty-nine?"

Smooth talker, this one. "Thirty-six."

"You look great for your age."

"Oh, uh, thanks."

"Girlfriend?"

"Uh, no."

"Boyfriend?"

"Uh..."