“They should have at least pretended to be happy to see you.”
“If I’d worn what I put on first, they might have made the effort.” His car pulled up to the curb and he stepped off to open her door. She waited until he’d gone around and closed his door. “I didn’t stop to think how this would affect you. I should have.”
“It won’t affect me. I’m a Logan and nobody wants to risk alienating my family. Or the trust funds, as the case may be.”
He said it without arrogance, but rather a statement of fact. Which it was. He didn’t say anything else, so she sat back and watched the scenery go by. When he pulled up in front of her hotel, she assumed he’d tell her he’d call her sometime and show her the door.
Instead he handed his car over to the valet and walked inside with her. Still not speaking, they rode up in the elevator and stepped into her lush hotel room.
Only after he’d closed the door behind them did he speak. “You told me before you wanted to be my wife, but not Mrs. Samuel Logan the Fourth. I think I know now what you meant by that.”
She was glad because she wasn’t sure she could explain it any better.
“But here’s the thing,” he continued. “I wasn’t asking Paulette Atherton to be my wife. I didn’t know at the time she went by Paulie, but she’s who I wanted to marry.”
“You only ever saw Paulette.”
“You’re wrong. I never saw you in jeans and a hockey jersey, but I saw you. The real you.”
She wanted to believe him—wanted to believe the man she’d loved had seen the real her—but it didn’t seem possible. “The real me was pretty well hidden, Sam.”
“Do you remember the fundraiser buffet for the senator at the Yacht Club?”
“You’re proving my point. I displayed perfect Stepford wife potential that day.”
He snagged the front of her jersey and pulled her close. “I’d forgotten something in my car so I was outside when you arrived. I saw you driving too fast with the top down and the music too loud. You were belting out the lyrics like you didn’t care who was listening. Then I watched you use the rearview mirror to fix yourself up so you’d look respectable, and when you were all spit-polished and perfect, you gave the mirror the finger.”
She remembered. “You asked me out on our first date that night.”
“I wanted you. The fact you cleaned up nice was a bonus because the truth is I’m a businessman and that’s the circle I run in. But I wanted the woman who drove too fast and sang too loud. I thought the pressure of the wedding and being in the spotlight had you kind of uptight and, after we were married, I hoped I’d see her again. Now, I wish I’d said something before it was too late.”
“But this is the life you lead.”
“I’d give it up for you, but I can’t. Too many people depend on me. But it’s only part of the life I lead, and don’t kid yourself. As long as I send a check, they couldn’t care less if I show up or not, especially since I’m off the market.”
Hope filtered into her emotions, despite her best efforts to block it out. “Are you? Off the market?”
“I haven’t really been on the market since that day at the Yacht Club.” He slid his hands down her back to settle at her waist. “I’m not going to lie to you, Paulie. It would mean a lot to me if you’d occasionally show up on my arm, looking spectacular. But I want the life we’ve had for the last few months. I’ll commute, you’ll serve beer. We’ll have sex…a lot.”
“That sounds like a good plan.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I can do that, too—the function thing—sometimes. A few, maybe. It’ll be easier, I think, since I know you don’t expect it.”
“I love you, Paulie.” He lowered his mouth to hers.
She reveled in the kiss—the first kiss they’d ever shared free of doubt and personal hang-ups and false expectations. When it was over, she smiled up at him. “I love you, too. I never stopped.”
He let go of her waist and pulled a small box out of his coat pocket. Tears sprang into her eyes and she wondered if she should tell him she still had the ring he’d given her before—the monstrous diamond solitaire tucked away in her drawer.
But then he opened the lid and she saw the two gold bands. They were intricately carved, but still elegantly simple. “Something low-key, I thought, this time. Might fit into your lifestyle better than a big rock.”
She sniffed, swiping at the tears on her cheeks. “They’re beautiful. And so perfect.”
“Paulie Reed, will you marry me? Not everybody or everything else. Just me.”
She nodded, her heart in her throat, and then he was kissing her again. It was a very long time before he stopped.
***