A/N: Hi, I'm back with a brand-new story. No flashbacks in this one, I don't think. You know the drill: R&R. I'm working on that myself. Anyway, I hope you like it. I'll post the next chapter as soon as I finish it.

Thanks.

Will Girardi stood in a corner of his living room, separate from the impromptu celebration, watching his daughter with saddened delight. Joan, his baby girl, had just gotten engaged and she was radiant with her happiness. Though she was chatting with her future father-in-law, her eyes were never far from Adam Rove, her new fiancé. Will watched as her gaze invariably sought Adam out. It was as if she found immeasurable comfort in his presence. She used to look at me that way, Will mused as he took a sip of the beer he held. Now she had someone else to look after her.

"A penny for your thoughts."

Trying to hide his grimace from his wife, Will wrapped an arm around her waist. "Joan looks happy."

"Yes, she does. So why are you scowling at her?"

"I am not scowling, Helen."

"You're right," she agreed a little too readily. "You're sulking."

"No, I'm not," he countered sulkily.

Helen patted his arm. "We have to let her go some time."

Though he knew Helen was right, Will was still resistant to the idea. "Does it have to be now? Can't we put it off for a decade or two?"

"I don't recall you behaving like this when Kevin and Rebecca got engaged."

"That was different. He hadn't needed me to look out for him in years."

"Uh-huh." Helen gently turned him toward her and stared into her husband's eyes. "Joan will always need you. You're her daddy. But it's time for you to pass the torch. And you couldn't ask for a better torchbearer than Adam."

Will looked back at their daughter. Adam stood behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. He whispered something in her ear. Joan looked up at him, a question in her eyes, but she took his hand with absolute trust and allowed him to lead her outside to the porch. He hated to admit it but Adam looked at his baby girl with such profound love that Will knew that he'd move heaven and earth for her if necessary. Reluctantly, he met his wife's eyes. "You're right. I know you're right."

He caught a glimpse of Joan as the front door closed behind the couple. A breeze swept up her hair, blowing soft tendrils all about her. She didn't seem to notice; she was too busy gazing lovingly at her fiancé. Will turned back to Helen to find the same expression, mixed with understanding, on her face. With a sigh, he took his wife into his arms and gently kissed her. "It's going to be difficult to let her go."

"She's your little girl."

Will rested his forehead on Helen's. "Not anymore."

Joan followed Adam to the swing her parents had recently added to the porch. She settled beside him and curled her legs beneath her. He stretched out his legs and pushed the swing lightly. Neither said anything; they just held hands and enjoyed the quiet time together.

The three hours since they'd gotten engaged had been hectic to say the least. Between the mass congratulations, the post-picnic clean-up, and the current gathering with their parents, Joan and Adam hadn't had a moment alone since she'd said yes.

She looked down at their joined hands. Her engagement ring winked at her in the late afternoon sun. The fact of their engagement still hadn't really sunk in yet. It seemed like she had stumbled into a lovely dream. But the weight of the ring—though not really heavy—assured her that everything that was happening was real. A satisfied smile on her lips, Joan laid her head on the back of the swing and let her gaze roam over her fiancé.

He'd laid his head back as well. His eyes were closed and a smile similar to hers had settled on his lips. The sun gilded his skin. He glowed like a young demi-god. Laughing inwardly at the fanciful thought, she reached out and traced the length of his nose.

Adam's eyes fluttered open in surprise. He turned his head and watched her, a question in his eyes. She just smiled and continued her exploration of his face. She outlined his eyebrows and cheekbones and jaw, stopping briefly to playfully nudge the dent in his chin. Skimming her fingers over his velvety skin, she marveled at how much he'd changed. He'd grown into his features, adapted to his own skin over the last few years. She cupped his cheek in her palm, wondering what he'd look like at their parents' age.

Adam's hand slipped over hers on his cheek. Her eyes snapped to his while she absently stroked his bottom lip with her thumb. Desire, curiosity, and love swam in the depths of his eyes. It pleased her to see her own jumble of emotions on his face. She leaned toward him and captured his lips with hers.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her closer. They deepened the kiss gradually, savoring the increased intimacy. Joan moaned in protest when he finally pulled back. Five weeks was far too long to go without one of Adam's kisses.

Joan opened her eyes and lay her head back on the swing. Adam continued to rock the seat back and forth. "This is nice," she said.

"Yeah." He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her smile grew as his fingers brushed her ear. "What?"

"We're engaged."

"I know," he said, his voice an awed caress.

"It doesn't seem real. We're going to . . ." she paused, then shrugged when she couldn't find the right words to express what she was feeling.

"Get married," he finished for her.

"Be Mr. and Mrs. Rove." A little thrill shot through her at the words. "I like the sound of that."

"Me, too," he replied, giving her hand a little squeeze. They lapsed into silence, content to simply be in each other's presence. Eventually, Adam patted her knee and stood. "I'm going back inside."

Pouting, Joan tugged his hand until he hovered above her. She pressed a lingering kiss to his lips. "Stay a little longer."

"I'd like to but I need to talk to your father."

Blinking in surprise, she said, "Why?"

"It's a guy thing," he said when she continued to gape at him. He flashed a reassuring smile at her and let go of her hand. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck." She watched him stride into the house, wondering what he could have to talk to her dad about.

Their parents were congregated on the sofa when Adam entered the house. Three pairs of eyes looked up at him. "Where's Joan?" Helen asked.

"She's still on the porch." Adam wrung his fingers a bit, uncertain of how he wanted to proceed. While he was ecstatic that Joan had said yes, he hadn't intended to propose so soon. He'd thought that he would visit for a few days and gauge Joan's feelings. Then he would know where they stood and he could make the proper arrangements. And his conversation with Will Girardi would be under completely different circumstances.

"Adam?"

His father's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Hmm?"

"Are you all right?"

Smiling to assuage Carl's concern, Adam nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'm fine. I just need to speak with Mr. Girardi alone for a minute." He cringed at the formality but he'd always felt the least comfortable with Will. All of the Girardi men were protective of Joan, but something about Will was especially intimidating. Adam wasn't sure if it was because he was Joan's father or because he was a cop. Whatever the reason, until this discussion was over, he figured formality was the safest route.

Will frowned in surprise. "All right." He rose from the couch and led Adam to the kitchen. They sat on opposite sides of the table, with Will patiently waiting for Adam to begin.

"I was going to talk to you before but everything just sort of happened." The words tumbled out before Adam could refine them into something coherent. He looked up at Will to see if the statement had made even a glimmer of sense to him. Seeing the curious look in Will's eyes, Adam guessed it hadn't. He cleared his throat and tried again. "It was my intention to talk to you before I proposed to Jane. You know, to make sure I had your blessing."

Of all the things Adam could have said, this was the last thing Will had expected. "You want my blessing?" he asked.

Adam nodded, the picture of solemnity. Will felt any lingering concerns he had melt away in the face of Adam's sincerity. He had just opened his mouth to say so when Adam began to speak again.

"I know how close you and Jane are and, if I was you, I'd be a little worried. Things are happening so fast. You couldn't have been prepared for this."

"That's true." Will leaned back in his chair.

He watched the young man take a deep breath before looking into his eyes. "It doesn't help that Jane and I don't have the best track record. We've hurt each other despite our best efforts. These past four years alone . . ."

"Even the most madly in love couple is bound to hurt each other sometimes, Adam. It's inevitable."

He frowned as he considered Will's words. Finally, he nodded and said, "I suppose. I couldn't have promised that I'd never do anything to hurt her anyway. Never intentionally, of course." Adam smiled, then launched back into his train of thought. "But I can promise that I'll always love Jane. I'll be there for her and stand beside her. I'll do everything I can to make sure she's happy and protected. You needn't worry about her."

Will nodded even though he knew that he'd always worry about Joan no matter who she married. "All right."

"That brings me to my next point."

"Do you have an outline or something?"

Adam flushed. "Yes, sir."

"You can call me Will."

"Yes, sir. Now . . ."

Will bit back his smile. "You have my blessing, Adam."
"But I didn't finish . . ."

"You don't have to." Will leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. "Joan loves you and it's obvious you love her. I already know that you make her happy and that you'd do everything in your power to keep her safe."

"But . . ."

"I've watched your relationship develop and you two have been through more than some couples have in twenty years. It's going to be hard to let go of her, but I know you'll take care of her." He held his hand out to his daughter's fiancé. Adam shook it. "Congratulations."

"Thank you . . . Will," Adam said awkwardly.

"We'll work on the Will thing."

"Okay."

Grace had come up the front walk and was standing on the porch before Joan noticed her presence. She wasn't altogether surprised by this. After all, Adam was in town. Joan tended to become single-minded when he was around. Grace just wasn't sure if this particular development was beneficial to the talk she knew they needed to have.

"You got my message," Joan said, her voice soft and dreamy.

"Yeah. So," she said brightly when Joan didn't say anything else, "what's going on?"

Joan furrowed her brow as if trying to determine the best way to break the news. For a minute, Grace was afraid she'd tell her their friendship was over. "Adam and I . . . we're engaged."

It took a minute for her to process what Joan said. "Really?"

Joan held up her left hand, her expression apologetic and hopeful all at once.

"Congratulations, Joan." To Grace's dismay, Joan's face fell and her shoulders slumped. She stared at her lap like dejected child. "What?"

"You only call me Joan when you're angry or annoyed with me."

Holding back a sigh, Grace leaned against the railing and tried to figure out the best way out of the mess she'd created. "Joan, Girardi, I'm happy for you. Honestly."

"Really?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes. Did you think that one little argument had ended our friendship?"

Joan shrugged, still looking for all the world like a lost little girl. "I said some awful things and you haven't spoken to me for three weeks until this morning. Then you called me Joan. I don't know what to think."

"Move over." Grace sat on the swing next to Joan. Her friend should be nauseatingly happy right now, not down because their friendship was messed up. "I'm not mad at you. I was, but I'm not anymore."

"Why?"

"Because I started the fight. You just defended yourself."

"The stuff I said about Luke wasn't self-defense."

It was Grace's turn to shrug. "It got me to shut up, so it counts."

"Still."

"The other reason is," she couldn't believe she was admitting this, "I wasn't really mad at you to begin with. Everything I said during the argument . . . I was talking about myself. You called me on it. We're even."

They sat in silence. Grace hoped this was the end of the discussion. She didn't really want to dwell on the finer points of their argument or her feelings about Luke. Especially since she wasn't clear on them herself.

"So we're okay?"

"Did I just have that conversation by myself?" With a joyous squeal, Joan flung her arms around Grace and hugged her hard. "Hey. There's no call for this."

"Too bad," Joan declared, squeezing hard. "I'm happy and newly engaged. I'm getting my way."

Laughing, Grace good-naturedly shoved Joan off of her. "Let's see this ring."

Joan held out her hand again, this time as radiant as a newly engaged woman should be. "He made it himself," Grace said. "I'm impressed. Where is Rove anyway?"

"Inside with our parents. He said he had to talk to my dad."

"Then I guess we should join the party," Grace said as she got up. "You are the guest of honor and all."

"Grace?"

"Yeah?"

A frown marred Joan's brow. "You will be my maid of honor, won't you?"

"As long as you promise not to make me wear a hideous, poofy dress."

"Cross my heart."

Grace smiled, thankful that their friendship was back on track. "Then you've got yourself a maid of honor."

"Yay."