"Uh-huh," I said sarcastically. "That's why you dumped me and stayed away for two whole years."
"I got cold feet." He shrugged. "I admit it. After just two dates I could tell there would never be a peaceful minute around you, so I decided to cut my losses before I got in too deep. At the speed we were going, I figured we'd be in bed within a week, and married before I knew what was going on."
"So what's different this time around? I'm not."
"Thank God. I love you just the way you are. I guess I faced the fact that no matter how much trouble you are, to me you're worth it. That's why I'll chase after you when you go to the beach, why I didn't walk out of the movie theater even though I was so mad I don't remember a single thing about the movie, and why I'll move heaven and earth to keep you safe."
I wasn't ready to stop being mad, but I could feel my temper slipping away. I tried to hold on to it, and scowled at his shirt so he wouldn't know his sweet-talking was working.
"Every day I learn a little more about you," he murmured, pulling me closer so he could nuzzle my temple. I hunched my shoulders to keep him from getting at my neck, and he laughed softly. "And every day I fall a little more in love. You've also eased some tension in the department, because the guys who resented me before are now sympathizing with me."
I scowled harder, but this time it was real. He needed sympathy because he loved me? "I'm not that bad."
"You're hell on wheels, honey, and they figure I'm going to spend the rest of my life scrambling to put out your forest fires. They're right, too." He kissed my forehead. "But I'll never be bored, and I'll have your dad to teach me the finer points of surviving in the middle of a tornado. C'mon," he cajoled, moving his lips to my ear. "I bit the bullet first. You might as well say it: you love me, too. I know you do."
I fidgeted and fussed, but his arms were warm and the smell of his skin was making me dizzy with want. Finally I heaved a sigh. "All right," I said sulkily. "I love you. But don't think for a minute that means I'm going to turn into a Stepford wife."
"Like there was ever a snowball's chance in hell of that happening," he said wryly. "But you can bet the farm that you're going to be my wife. I've been serious about that from the beginning... the second beginning, that is. Thinking you might have been killed was a real eye-opener for me."
"Which time?" I asked, blinking at him. "There've been three."
He squeezed me. "The first time. I've had enough scares in the past week to last me a lifetime."
"Oh, yeah? You should try it from my side of the situation." I gave up and leaned my head on his chest. My heart was doing that flutter thing he could make it do, but in stereo. Confused, I concentrated, and abruptly realized that I was hearing his heartbeat while I was feeling mine-and his was racing, too.
Delight bloomed in me, filled me like water in a balloon until I felt all swollen with it, which may not be a really great description but kind of fits, because I felt as if my insides were too big for my skin. I tilted my head back and gave him a huge beaming smile. "You love me!" I said triumphantly.
He looked faintly wary. "I know. I said so, didn't I?"
"Yeah, but you really do!"
"You thought I was lying?"
"No, but hearing and feeling are two different things."
"And you're feeling..." He let the words trail off, inviting me to fill in the blank.
"Your heartbeat." I patted his chest. "It's jumping around just like mine."
His expression changed, became tender. "It does that whenever I'm anywhere near you. At first I thought I was developing arrhythmia, but then I realized it acts up only when you're around. I was about to go in for tests."
He was exaggerating, but I didn't care. He loved me. I had longed for and hoped for and dreamed of this practically from the moment I'd met him, and he had devastated me by dumping me the way he had. Oh, I'd have been devastated no matter how he'd done it, but he'd really done a number on me by not telling me why. I'd made things as difficult as possible for him this past week because he deserved it for treating me the way he had, and I didn't regret one moment of it. I just wished I could have made things even tougher by not rolling over for him every time he touched me, but what the hell; sometimes you just have to go with the flow.
"Do you want to get married as soon as we can, or do you want to plan some sort of shindig?" he asked.
There wasn't any doubt which one he'd prefer. I cocked my head and thought about it for a minute. I'd had the big church wedding and loved every minute of it, but church weddings are a lot of trouble and cost a lot of money-and they take time to plan. I was glad I'd gone through it once, even though the marriage itself hadn't held up, but I didn't feel any need to go through all of that pomp and ceremony again. On the other hand, I wanted more than just a quickie marriage.
"Shindig," I said, and he managed to stifle his groan. I patted his arm. "But not a big one. We have to think of our families and have some sort of to-do, but we don't have to do a big deal with ice sculptures and a champagne fountain. Something small, no more than thirty people-if that many-maybe in your mother's garden. Would she like that, or would she be terrified her flowers would get trampled?"
"She'd love it. She loves showing off that house."
"Good. Wait, what if you can't find out who's shooting at me and tampering with my car? What if I have to stay in hiding until Christmas? There won't be any flowers then, and besides, it'll be too cold to have a garden wedding. We can't even pick out a date!" I wailed. "We can't plan anything until this is settled."