“No, because I already know where it’s going. I already know what I feel.” He took a half step closer to her. “Call me crazy if you want, but . . . I love you.”
He loves me?
“I’ve never said that to a woman before. Never said it to anybody who isn’t a member of my family. Never.”
You haven’t?
“I’d like you to become a member of my family, Skye. Will you marry me?”
Vision blurred by unexpected tears, Skye’s happiness bubbled over into laughter. Grant took a step back from her, and she realized he thought she was laughing at him, at his proposal.
“Wait. Grant. No. I mean, yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“You will? Wahoo!”
He picked her up underneath the arms and spun her around and around. Her legs flew out like swings at the carnival. The first thing he did when he set her down was kiss her again. Only the kiss was different this time. The kiss claimed her for his own. She felt winded by the time he straightened.
“I’ve gotta get back to work,” he said. “I don’t want to, but I’ve got to.”
“I know. It’s all right. Go.”
“I don’t have a ring for you yet.”
“It’s okay.”
“Can I come to your house tonight when I’m done at the Tamarack? It’ll be late.”
She grinned. “That’s okay too. I’ll wait up.”
It was close to midnight before Grant pulled his Jeep into Skye’s driveway. The light above the front stoop was on, shedding a warm yellow glow several feet in all directions. Another light inside the house told him he was expected.
He hopped out of the vehicle and strode to the front door. Rather than ring the bell, he rapped lightly. The door opened in seconds. Skye looked up at him, eyes sleepy. Or would he call them dreamy?
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Hi.” She shoved tousled hair back from her face.
“You were asleep.”
“On the sofa.”
He cupped the side of her face, leaned forward, and kissed her. “I shouldn’t have asked you to wait up.”
“Yes, you should have. I needed to see you. I needed to know I wasn’t dreaming earlier today.”
“You weren’t dreaming.”
Holding on to the front of his shirt, she drew him over the threshold. He caught the open door with his fingertips and swiped it closed. He became instantly aware of how alone they were in this little bungalow. He remembered how easy it could be—with the right words, with the right look in his eyes, with the pressure of his lips—to help a girl let down her defenses.
Careful, he warned himself. Be careful.
“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, intruding on the silence. “There’s Coke in the fridge, or I could make some decaf.”
He wasn’t thirsty, but a little distance between them might be a good thing. “Decaf would be great.”
“I’ll get it for you.”
She turned and headed into the kitchen. He followed a few moments behind. On the opposite side of the kitchen bar, he sat on a stool and watched as she filled the carafe with water and poured it into the coffeemaker’s reservoir.
“Did you tell anybody?” he asked at last.
She faced him but stayed where she was. “No. I didn’t know if you wanted me to yet.” She tipped her head slightly to one side. “Did you tell anyone?”
“No.” He smiled. “But it was hard not to with so many people in and out of the kitchen tonight. I thought I’d explode with the news. I didn’t expect that. Then again, I didn’t expect any of this. People tried to tell me it would be like this. My parents. My brothers and sisters. Have I mentioned the Nicholses are a romantic lot? I didn’t think I got that particular gene, but I was wrong.”
“Not sure you told me about them being romantics. However, I can tell your parents raised you with good manners. When I’m with you I feel . . . protected.” She returned his smile. “Cherished.”
Who knew it would feel this good to hear her say something like that? And it made him determined to keep her feeling protected and cherished, determined not to hurt her or abuse her trust in even the smallest of ways.
“Grant?”
“Hmm.” It was hard not to get off the stool and go take her in his arms again.
“Let’s wait to tell anybody here in Kings Meadow until after we have dinner with my parents on Sunday. Is that all right with you? I’d like the two of us to tell them in person first.”
The sounds and scent of coffee brewing filled the kitchen.
“Sure. That’s fine with me. Do you think they’ll take it all right? It happening so fast, I mean.”
She nodded. “I think so. As soon as they really get to meet you, they’ll know we’re right for each other.”
“I’ll wait to call my parents until Sunday night.”
“Will they take it all right?”
He chuckled. “All they’ll want to know is when do they get to meet you and how soon is the wedding.” Surprise shot through him when he realized how he wanted to answer them. “Can I tell them it will be soon?”
Her large, dark eyes widened, all traces of sleepiness long gone. “How soon?”