Real Romance

chapter Fifteen



Marie adjusted the heater vent in her direction, then folded her arms across her chest.

"I'm going to give you exactly five seconds to explain yourself, or else..."

David raised his eyebrows.

"Or else I'm calling the police."

"You mean Chad?" David tried to hold back a chuckle, but didn't quite succeed.

She huffed and looked out the window.

"Great to see you think making a spectacle of yourself is so funny."

David widened his eyes and thumbed his chest.

"Hey, wait a minute, sweet thing. That is what you called me in there? Sweet—"

"Okay, David, I get the point. So I had a little too much champagne. Well, it's been a long week. I've been working late, haven't slept much. And then with all the wedding—"

"Marie," he said, with one of those deep blue looks that made her completely lose sight of her point. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

"Oh, good," she said, blinking, and glad—so glad—that she remembered what she'd wanted to say. "But maybe you have to explain yourself to me. I mean, what was that caveman act back there?"

David merely shrugged. "You mean you didn't like it?"

"Well, I..." The truth was, she had liked it. Liked it very much, darn it. It had made her feel all feminine and submissive—like a romance heroine being swept away by the masterful hero of her dreams.

"I still insist on knowing why you did that."

"I wanted to take you to dinner."

"Have you ever thought of just asking, or is that approach too ordinary?"

David smiled and lightly thumped her nose."I guess you bring out the beast in me."

"You know," he said, resting his very warm hand on the side of her neck, "I used to be a fine, upstanding citizen. But now," he said, slipping his palm around her nape and leaning his face in toward hers, "I'm just an—animal."

Marie's eyes flashed as he drew closer. What was it that this man did to her? She tingled all over whenever he was near.

"Marie," he said, so close she could almost taste him, "the truth..."

Her nipples went hard and her body arched as all her senses recalled what David's physical truths felt like.

"Do I bring out the beast in you?"

He nibbled lightly at the base of her neck, on her earlobe... at the very tip of her chin.

"Grrr..." she said, latching on to his ears and pulling his mouth down on hers.



Marie pushed back in her seat and latched her seat belt.

"Are we really going to dinner," she asked, "or was that just a ploy to get me in the car and feel me up?"

David laughed and turned the ignition. The caveman routine had worked like a charm.

"No, sweetheart, no ploy. We have reservations at ten."

"Ten? Isn't that a little late for dinner?"

"As late as they'd take at the Italian Chef, but I had a hunch it might take us a while to get there."

Italian Chef? Marie's mouth watered at the thought of a rich pasta alfredo coupled with a strong Chianti... followed by a sensual night in bed with her favorite man.

"I do appreciate being taken to dinner, even if the invitation was a little heavy-handed." Her stomach growled loudly as if to accentuate her point, and they both laughed. "I haven't eaten all day."

"Marie, sweetheart," he said, lowering his voice, "you really need to take better care of yourself. Or maybe what you need"—he cast her a meaningful look but she looked away—"is someone to do the job for you."

She gripped the door handle, telling herself not to read too much between the lines.

"From where I sit," she said, trying to make light of it, "I've got plenty of people to run my life. There's Johnny and Mark—"

David started to say something, but stopped.

"What's wrong?"

"Holy cow," David said, wiping his brow with the back of his sleeve. "Talk about running things, I just zipped right through that red light!"

Marie bit her bottom lip, wondering why she'd been thinking he was such a wild man. "Wouldn't worry about it too much, David. All the police in this town are at Books & Bistro drinking champagne."

"Right," David said, sinking back in his seat with a sigh. Man, he'd have to be more careful. He needed all his wits about him tonight.



They sat face to face at the small corner table.

"I've always liked this place," Marie said, raising her glass in David's direction. "But none of my other dates," she said, her face brightening in the candle's glow, "could ever afford to bring me here."

"I'm not a rich man, Marie," David said, clinking his glass to hers. "In fact, my parents have disowned me. But I pledge to do my best to keep you in style."

Marie set down her glass.

"What do you mean, disowned you?"

"I wanted to be my own man, start my own business someday," David said. "An optician's shop. That wasn't good enough for them."

She straightened her glasses on her nose and pushed back a few locks of hair from her forehead, waiting for him to continue.

"Dad wanted me to go into the family business."

"Banking?"

"Avariciousness was more like it."

"But I thought they were well off. Didn't you say something about your mother and all her charities?"

"Oh, they were generous, in their own way. But you better believe they always knew exactly how generous they were. And everybody else did, too. Down to the last cent."

Marie reached out and laid a hand on the arm of his suit coat.

"Oh, David, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was like that—with you and your folks. Don't you even... keep in touch?"

"Sure," he said, with a wry smile, "we get together every time Debbie plans a wedding."

"Oh," Marie said, dabbing her lips with her napkin and seeming to change her mind. "Guess it's not something you want to talk about."

David brought his other hand to the table top and linked it in hers. "No, go on. I want to hear what you have to say."

"It's really not my place."

"If it were your place," he said gently, "and I asked you, would you tell me?"

"Of course," she said, unable to look away.

"Then tell me, Marie. Whatever it is that's on your mind."

"It's silly, maybe. Because I don't know Debbie at all. I mean, I'm sure that—if I did—I'd like her."

"She'd like you too," he said with a tender smile, "very much."

"Well, anyway, if your family really doesn't get along and you don't see each other much... don't you think it's possible Debbie keeps getting engaged as a way of bringing all of you together?"

David blinked and looked down at the table. It was scary, positively alarming the way she'd looked right into the situation and seen it so clearly for what it was. Of course, she had to be right. Right about his sister, right about his family.

Right on the money when it came to him.

David reached his other hand toward her, and they sat holding hands for the longest while, neither one speaking.

"I used to get sort of frustrated with the service in here," David said, slowly looking up, "but tonight I'm sort of glad for the lull. I don't know how you do it, Marie," he said, his crystal blue eyes starting to blur, "but you have a way of looking right through me, of seeing"—he brought one hand to his chest and pressed her palm to his heart—"what's in here."

Her lower lip began to tremble. He couldn't possibly be—

"Alfredo?" the waiter asked, handing over her plate.

They continued to talk throughout the delicious meal about every subject under the sun, but somehow they always came back to tonight's topic: weddings. David was regaling her with anecdotes from all the ones he'd attended and Marie listened raptly.

"Well, anyway," he went on, laughing, "until tonight, of course, that was the last wedding I went to. And after seeing the way those other groomsmen tossed poor Blake into the pool, I said never again."

"Never again, that you'd go to a wedding or be part of one?"

Marie smiled politely at the waiter as he cleared their dishes.

"Participate—as a groomsman, I mean. Hey, I was minding my own business at the bar. I had nothing to do with that let's-throw-Blake-in-the-pool-and-spray-shaving-cream-on-his-new-car business. But he was seeing double from the chlorine. To this day he holds me culpable. You try to be a nice guy..."

"And look where it gets you," she finished for him.

Yeah, he was looking. Looking right past those turquoise frames and into a soul he knew sparked with desire. She was beautiful tonight. More beautiful than ever: her upswept hair surrounding her lovely face with curls, her sleek, long neck begging for his kisses, her tastefully low-cut dress tempting him to touch...

"Well, if it matters to you," she said, bringing him back to earth with her smile. "I'm completely in your corner. I've sworn off weddings, too."

His heart sank. "Huh?" he asked, none too eloquently, reaching for his water glass with a gasp and downing it completely.

She eyed him curiously, but kept talking.

"Weddings. They're for the birds. You know, the ones who eat the rice. Such a headache, too...."

David looked around desperately for the waiter, but when he couldn't find him reached for Marie's water glass instead.

"Help yourself," she said, wrinkling up her nose. My, he was acting strange all of a sudden.

"You mean," David asked, his voice still a bit froggy, "you don't want to get married? Ever?"

Marie grabbed back her water glass and took a long sip, before setting it back down at her place.

"Who's asking?"

"I, uh..."

David turned red from the neck up.

"I am," he said, loudly clearing his throat.

She gasped at him, momentarily tongue-tied. His eyes were earnest and opened wide, his upper lip quivering.

"Marie," he said, shocking her by pushing back his chair and falling to his knees beside her. "Marry me."

Her first reaction was joy. Sheer, overwhelming joy. The man of her dreams had actually...

But then she thought of Johnny. Johnny and Meg with their own wedding three and a half weeks away.

And of all the time she'd already taken to help Joanne.

She wanted to say yes, but not right now. Find a way to keep him holding on for just a couple of more months.

But then he reached his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope.

"What's this?" she asked, as he set it down on the table before her.

"Open it," David urged. "Don't say yes or no. Just open it."

David watched her studying the envelope and held his breath. It took all his restraint not to lean over and rip it open for her.

He tried to take a mental picture to capture the moment in his mind. He'd proposed! Gone and done it! Taken the plunge headlong, and now the rest was entirely up to her.

David began a silent prayer, looking skyward.

And then, as if in answer, she fitted her nail under the seal and popped it open.

"Airline tickets?" she exclaimed, astonished. "Oh, David, that's so sweet, but—"

"Read them," he said, leveling her a look from his kneeling position.

Marie looked back down at the round-trip tickets in her hand.

"Jamaica?"

"There's something else in there," he said, still on the floor.

She narrowed her lovely eyes, then peeked into the envelope again.

"Oh, David," she gasped, pulling out a gorgeous solitaire.

David took the diamond from her hand and gently slid it onto her left ring finger.

"Marie McCloud," he said, his voice now stronger, braver, than he ever could have imagined. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" He took a very deep breath. "Let me carry you away to Jamaica where we can say our vows on a sandy beach, without the worries, the headaches..."

He gave a shaky smile as a tear broke free from the corner of his eye.

"Hey, I'll go if she won't!" someone shouted from the back of the restaurant.

"Oh, David," Marie said, leaping to her feet and pulling him up from the floor. "You make it awfully hard to say no. I do want to marry you, I do. And I love you," she said, looking deep in his eyes.

"I love you, too," he whispered back, bringing his arms around her waist and pulling her up against him.

She hardly knew whether to laugh or cry. "But I can't go to Jamaica. I can't..."

David quelled her emotion with a kiss.

"You can," he commanded firmly. "I've already arranged your vacation with your employer. We'll be back in plenty of time for your brother Johnny's wedding."

"David," she said, breathless, her helpless knees giving way. "I have obligations to meet. Deadlines... You can't just sweep in here and carry me away!"

"Watch me," he said.

And then, to a round of applause from the restaurant patrons, David swooped down and threw her over his shoulder.


The End