She had hoped that by allowing him to kiss her before they left the house, he would be on his best behavior. That was the only reason she had agreed to come to the Bistro with him.
They had just arrived when she realized it was a mistake. His hand was dangerously low on her hip as he led her to their table. She tried quickening her step to avoid him, but his stride was longer than hers and he was reluctant to let her go.
She quickly sat down and glared at him as he sat across from her. Oh dear, she thought. Another mistake. She should have been the one facing out on the other patrons. He was looking at her with the most ridiculous, love struck expression she had ever seen. Touched, but embarrassed, she hissed at him, "Lucien, we discussed this. I am just your housekeeper tonight."
"You've never been just my housekeeper, Jean."
"You know very well what I mean."
He sighed and made a valiant attempt to disguise his feelings. The waiter arrived, and Lucien ordered for them, in French.
"Are you fluent, Lucien?"
"Very nearly."
She opened her mouth to compliment him, when she felt his hand on her knee.
"Lucien!"
"No one can see."
"They can see the expression on your face. You are practically leering."
"They will assume it's over the wine." He picked it up with his free hand and made a show of reading the label. "It is a rather nice vintage."
He was tracing small circles on her thigh, slowly moving upward. She cursed the small circumference of the table and his long reach.
She put her hand on his and tried to push him away, but he took her hand in his and began the tracing motions on her hand instead. It took her a few moments to realize he was writing "I love you" over and over on her palm.
She blushed just as the waiter arrived, so she turned her head away and pretended to cough.
The waiter discretely deposited their food on the table, inquired if they needed anything else and promptly left.
Jean's appetite had disappeared. She watched him eat for a few minutes. He pretended not to notice, but his smile gave him away.
"I finally take you out to dinner, and you refuse to eat."
"This is not supposed to be a date. And it's hard to eat with a lump in your throat."
He looked up and saw there were tears in her eyes. "Jean..." His hand was almost to her cheek when she grabbed it and pulled it back under the table.
"Perhaps we should have the rest of the food prepared to go."
He immediately signaled the waiter and made the request.
Lucien scanned the parking lot as they made their way to the car. He held the door for her, and once she was seated, he took the opportunity to run his hand up her calf and over her knee.
Jean stopped him again. "Lucien, someone could be watching! Are you determined to ruin my reputation?"
He withdrew his hand and closed the door. He was silent on the drive home.
She regretted her tone, but she was tired of being the responsible one in their relationship. Couldn't he see that she wanted him, just as much as he wanted her?
He pulled up to the house and parked the car. They sat in silence, not looking at each other.
"I should've told you before..."
Jean looked at him, obviously puzzled.
Lucien got out, walked to her side of the car and opened the door for her. Once she was standing, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the front door. It took him a moment to get the door open and swing her inside.
"Lucien, what...?"
He placed her on the couch and walked to the cabinet, taking out a large box. He took something from it, walked back to where she was sitting and got on one knee.
"Lucien...please don't."
"Jean, as you know, this was my mother's ring. And I would very much like you to wear it. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" He paused to wipe a tear from her cheek.
"Before you answer, I'd like you to read this."
He placed a piece of paper in her hand. She had a difficult time reading through the tears and the shaking of her hands, but she understood enough to realize the divorce was finalized.
She couldn't speak, so she nodded her head.
Lucien sat down beside her. Not satisfied, he pulled her into his lap and kissed her gently, first on the mouth, then on her wet cheeks. He waited patiently for her to speak.
"Lucien, when did you get this?"
"Two days ago. I thought it would be a nice after dinner surprise. I suppose I should have told you before..." He couldn't look her in the eye. He'd made a royal mess of this, as usual.
"Yes."
"I'm sorry, Jean. I was trying to be romantic, but I should have known..."
"Yes, Lucien."
"Will you forgive me?"
"Yes."
Something about the way she said it made him look up. "Do you mean...?"
"Yes, Lucien. I will marry you."
"Oh, Jean!" He squeezed her and rained kisses over her face, hair, hands, down her neck, until she was breathless.
"Lucien!"
He reluctantly pulled away. "Jean...how long do you want to wait to get married?"
"Considering your lack of discretion…" And my newly discovered lack of resolve, she thought. "We'd better marry as soon as possible."
"That is a relief." He gave her a sheepish grin. "I took the liberty of calling the registrar's office. We are to be married on Thursday."
"This Thursday?"
"...Yes? Is that too soon?"
"No." A pause. "No, that will be fine."
"Um...Jean..."
Oh dear, she thought. "Yes?"
"I also took the liberty of sending an engagement and wedding announcement to Rose."
She looked at him with her mouth slightly opened.
"They will be in tomorrow's paper."
"Both of them?"
"...Yes."
"Well, you never have been one for half measures."
He took the ring from the box. "May I?"
She nodded, and he slipped the ring on her finger. He admired it for a moment, then gently took her face in his hands. "Dearest Jean..."
This time, she didn't feel the need to restrain him.