38. Leap of Faith

"I didn't think anything could top my first day at the law school. I was wrong," Rod told her as he grabbed his coat and backpack from his school locker. "Do you know why?"

"Why?" Mac responded indulgently.

"Because today… Mohammad came to the mountain."

Mac laughed heartily when the meaning of his words sunk in. She adored this playful and poetic side of him. Of course, she was the one to blame for the mountain thing. Her first instinct, however, had been right. He was a mountain—her mountain. Over and over, he'd come to her—reached out to her and bridged every gap between them. Even this morning he'd made it easy for her.

"Just don't say, 'It's about time,'" she answered dryly.

"Why state the obvious," he joked with a smug smile.

She threw her arms around his neck. "I missed you."

He was momentarily taken back. Mackenzie Allen was not a fan of public displays of affection—particularly at school. He quickly let his coat and backpack fall to the floor, and pulled her against him. "Me, too." He lowered his head and parted her lips in a searing, possessive kiss. "Me, too," he repeated against her skin.

Mac felt weak in the knees, overwhelmed by his sudden, hungry exploration of her mouth. She was continually amazed at how he deeply he affected her with a kiss. She pressed herself closer to him until he was up against the wall of lockers. She couldn't imagine anybody else fitting her quite so perfectly—in every way. Eagerly she responded to his passion.

They completely lost track of time and place until interrupted by one of Rod's classmates trying to get to his locker. "Excuse me, Calloway," he said with a smile. "Don't mean to interrupt, but unfortunately I require my Evidence book."

Rod raised his head. "Sorry, Preston," he replied. He released Mac and scooted his coat and backpack out of the way. Her face was slightly flushed. Whether from embarrassment or desire, he didn't care. It only added to her beauty.

"No problem," he said opening his locker. "Did you understand anything Sanders was saying in Con Law this morning?"

"Not a thing," Rod agreed. He hadn't understood a word because he hadn't heard a word. His mind had been only on her. "Do you know Mackenzie Allen?" he asked bringing her into their conversation.

He smirked. "The whole school knows Mac Allen, mate. But we've never been formally introduced." He stuck out his hand. "John Preston."

Mac shook it warmly. "It's nice to meet you, John. Where in New Zealand are you from?"

"North of Auckland," he answered. "I see you're as brilliant as advertised. Most Yanks insist I'm Australian."

"That will never do," Mac said with a smile while Rod beamed proudly at her side.

"Good to see the two of you have finally come to your senses," John told her. "Now maybe this old boy will pull his head out of his ass."

"What?" Rod protested.

"He's been impossible the past couple of months. And he used to be such a likeable fellow."

"Thanks a lot, mate," Rod said emphatically.

Mac laughed. If she wasn't already head over heels in love with the man at her side, she could easily fall for this blond, blue-eyed Kiwi.

John pulled out his textbook and shut his locker. "I'll take notes for you in class," he told Rod with a nod. "Somehow I don't think you're going to make it today. Do enjoy yourselves."

Rod laughed. "Thanks," he called out to John's departing back. "I owe you one." He looked at Mackenzie and saw that her face was again tinged with pink. Pleased, but not wanting to embarrass her further, he asked, "Do you want to leave your car here or meet me at home?"

"I didn't drive today."

He looked at her inquisitively. "You didn't?"

"I walked."

"In the cold?"

"Uh huh," she said with a nod. Softly she clarified, "I was hoping to have a ride at the end of the day."

He was touched. He placed his hands on either side of her waist and stepped closer to her. "My own little Pollyanna, huh?" he teased.

"Maybe," she answered noncommittally. "But I do need to get my purse and coat from the journal office."

"Okay. Why don't I get the car while you get what you need? I'll drive around and meet you out front?"

"Perfect."

"Yes, we are." He cupped her face in his hands and once again his lips descended on hers.

XXXXXXXXXX

By the time he picked Mackenzie up in front of the law school, he was in a silent panic. The craziest thought kept running through his head. She had to be scared. Frankly, he was a little gun shy, too. He didn't know if he could take another rejection similar to what he'd experienced their last evening together.

For weeks that scene in his bedroom had repeatedly played out in his mind, haunting him. Something in her past was getting in the way. Something traumatic which manifested itself most strongly when they were close to making love. Something that was powerful enough to cause her to recoil physically, to shake and tremble. Could she really be over it? She could achieve anything she put her mind to doing. But if the past wasn't completely behind her yet, how did he help her? How did he give her what she needed? What they both did.

She needed reassurance that this—that they—that he—was different. He'd failed her before. He hated to see her in pain. He couldn't make the same mistake again. There was too much at stake. She had to know he wasn't going anywhere ever again. She had to feel safe and secure in his love. Words wouldn't do it. He was certain of that…. He had to show her. The opening of the car door interrupted his thoughts. He hadn't seen her approach.

"It's freezing," Mac said shivering as she climbed into the car. "And it had been so nice, too." Last week's mild weather had allowed her to clear her head by running every day in Bridgeport while she'd struggled to find the courage to go to him.

"We'll light the fire when we get home," he assured her. "Are you hungry?"

"Famished," she told him while blowing on her hands. She'd accidentally left her gloves on her desk.

"Me, too. But we only have breakfast food. That's the only meal I've been eating there. We could stop at the store, or go and eat someplace?"

"Breakfast sounds wonderful." She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually eaten breakfast. Her mother had repeatedly nagged at her to eat during Christmas vacation and over the weekend, but she'd resisted. Her appetite had been virtually nonexistent since their separation. "You make a tasty omelet and toast."

Stopping at a traffic light he turned to her. "And you slice a mean banana."

"If you're good, I may let you eat it with peanut butter."

"Have I told you today how beautiful you are?"

"Smooth Calloway. Some guys will say anything for a decent meal," she responded with a smile. "But you're not too bad yourself. Even if some of your eating habits are disgusting."

"Just admit it. You love everything about me."

"Starting with your humility."

"That's me. Humble Rod." He returned his attention to the road and accelerated through the intersection.

She laughed. After a moment's silence she commented, "My face is beginning to hurt."

"Huh?"

She waited until their eyes met. "From smiling so much."

"Who knew pain could feel so good," he said wearing an identical grin.

"Who knew, indeed," she agreed.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Honey?" Rod called over to Mackenzie, who was behind him cutting fruit. They'd taken off their coats, turned on the fire and had headed straight for the kitchen where they'd easily fallen back into the routine of working seamlessly together.

"Yeah?" She twisted towards him and smiled. He looked so cute standing in front of the stove. She was thankful there was no awkwardness between them.

"My face hurts, too," he said before turning back to their omelets.

Mac chuckled as she approached him from behind, wrapped her arms around him and began to stroke his taut chest and abdomen. She could feel his muscles contract and loved the feeling of control it gave her. "Want me to kiss it better?" she said against his ear.

He cocked his head to the right until their eyes met. "For the rest of my life."

She stood on her toes and softly settled her lips on his mouth.

"That's just the spot," he whispered.

She kissed him again and then cheerfully demanded, "Hurry up with those eggs, I'm starved."

"Yes, ma'am," he lightly swatted her on the butt as she returned to her assigned task. "By the way, in case you've forgotten, the peanut butter is on the second shelf in the far left cupboard."

"I remember… unfortunately," she answered opening the cupboard. "Want me to stick in the toast?"

"Yeah. The omelets are about ready," he said reaching for a couple of plates.

"I suppose you want peanut butter on your toast, too?"

"Nah," he said bringing the omelets over to her. "Butter or jam will do. Whatever you're having."

"Will you grab the jam?"

"Of course," he walked to the refrigerator. "What kind do you want? Strawberry or blackberry?"

"Either is fine."

He chose the blackberry, opened the jar and handed it to her. While she spread it on their toast, he divided the fruit between their plates—including a sliced banana with peanut butter for him. "It feels good, doesn't it?"

"What?" She asked adding the toast to their plates.

"You and me."

"So very good," she agreed with a sigh. "Like we were never apart. Except for we've got a lot to catch up on."

"Nine and a half weeks worth."

She smiled. "So I'm not the only one who was keeping track, huh?"

He returned her smile. "Where do you want to eat and talk?"

"In front of the fire? You can turn it down if it's too warm for you."

"Perfect. Take the plates. I'll grab the forks and something to drink."

"Okay." She picked up the plates.

"Milk or juice?" He asked, retrieving a couple of forks.

"Milk, if it's chocolate."

"I think I can arrange that…. There's still some chocolate syrup in the fridge."

"You didn't dump it out?"

"I moved it out of sight."

"I did the same with the peanut butter at the apartment," she admitted.

He handed her a fork and gestured towards the living room. "Go eat your eggs before they get cold. I'll be right behind you."

XXXXXXXXXX

Mac took their plates in the other room and sat down on the love seat, setting his plate down next to her. While she waited for him her mind inextricably reviewed the morning. He'd been so understanding—so forgiving. But they had more talking to do. Talking that because of the way they'd separated would at some point lead them to the topic of sex.

She wasn't the same person she'd been nine weeks ago. But she was still nervous. What if something inadvertently sent her over the edge again? Caused her to freeze up? What if she disappointed him? Or he changed his mind and decided she wasn't worth it? Stop it, she chastised. He loves you. He would never hurt you. This is your test, she said silently repeating her mother's words to her. Maybe it would be easier if there'd been someone since David. But there wasn't. Move on. It will be fine. You love him. You want him. Do it for him. Do it for yourself. It's not a big deal…. That's a lie. It is a big deal—a very big deal.

She picked up their plates and put them on the hearth to keep the eggs warm. As she turned down the fire she saw a real estate brochure.

"Here you go, chocolate milk," Rod said walking towards her from the kitchen. As he reached the fireplace he saw their plates on the hearth. "You're not eating?" He first handed her a glass and then her plate. He picked up his plate and sat next to her.

"I was waiting for you," she said with a warm look.

He met her gaze. "Hey… that's my line."

"Can't let you have all the fun."

He sighed. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

"Thank you." For a long time when he'd said those words to her, she'd been embarrassed and uncertain as to whether she should believe him. However, she'd come to understand them for what they were: an expression of love and an acknowledgment of whom she was to him. He made her feel beautiful. "Never stop reminding me."

"Every day."

"Eat your eggs."

"You, too."

Both starved, they quickly ate together in silence. Mac ate most of her omelet before giving the rest to him. She had no idea how he ate like he did and remained so lean. When they were finished he picked up their plates and took them into the kitchen. She followed with their glasses.

"Hey," she asked putting the glasses in the dishwasher, "how did your exams go? I know they weren't graded but did you feel good about them?"

"Yeah." He rinsed off their plates and deposited them in the dishwasher. "I'm sure I didn't perform up to your standards. Who could?" She had never received anything other than an "Honors" grade, which put her in extremely elite company. "But I think they went well." He dried his hands, shut the dishwasher and walked her back into the living room. "Of course, I didn't have too many distractions. No excuse not to do well. And I suppose I had something to prove."

Once again seated in front of the fire, she asked, "Prove to whom?"

"You. Stanton. Myself," he admitted. "I needed to prove that I wasn't the guy he claimed I was. Prove that I belonged here."

She reached out and brushed back some of the hair off his forehead. It was currently longer than he normally wore it. "Honey, you've never been that guy. You have nothing to prove to me or anybody else. You're smart and more important, you're wise."

"What I really had is a brilliant tutor for most of the term. I'm going to need her this term, too."

She shook her head. He was worse than she was at taking compliments. "You'll do great."

"If I don't, it won't be for lack of trying. How about you? How did it go?"

"Fine. Even the Dean's exam was pretty easy. Of course, I used studying as an escape. I studied a lot—even for me. Anything to keep myself from thinking about you. But the holidays were miserable."

"Mine, too," he acknowledged with a shake of the head. "My parents basically told me not to come home during the break last week because they were tired of my short temper and bad mood. It didn't help that all I heard over Thanksgiving and Christmas from the twins was that I was an idiot for breaking up with you. Nana, too. She's still your biggest fan."

"No wonder I love your sisters and grandmother."

"Outnumbered again I see," he responded with an exaggerated shake of the head. "I'm doomed."

"It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it," she teased. Her eyes fell again on the real estate magazine in front of them, she reached out and picked it up. "What's this for?"

"To look for a new place. I had decided to move."

"Why?" She looked around the room. "This is a great place. Close to the law school…"

"Because," he shrugged, "it was time to move on. I couldn't do that living here. I moved in the week before we met. Everything here reminds me of you."

"But you hadn't… moved on, I mean?" Mac asked in a sudden panic.

He looked at her intently with an indulgent half-smile. "You're not seriously asking that, are you?"

"No." She relaxed and moved up against him. "I was surprised, that's all. Because I wasn't close to being over you."

"Honey, I wasn't either." He began to massage her neck and shoulder. Softly he told her, "You were still very much under my skin, and in my heart."

She raised her head to look at him. "But you wanted to move on."

"It wasn't a question of 'want,' Mac. I never wanted us to be apart, never wanted things to end between us. It was a question of 'need.' If we weren't going to be together then yeah, I had to move on." Seeing her expression, he asked, "What?"

"I never imagined it would be so easy for you."

"It wasn't. Even thinking about it was pure torture. But what choice did I have? I couldn't be miserable the rest of my life."

"I know. You're much stronger than I am," she conceded with a sigh. She sat up and faced him. "You're sure this is what you want? You and me. Because if not, I don't want you to feel guilty or responsible.…"

He put a finger over her lips. "You're talking about a hypothetical future apart that no longer exists. What makes you think there's anyplace I want to be but here—with you?"

"Nothing. But I know I screwed up. I would understand if you…"

"Stop," he insisted. "None of that matters. All that matters is…" He took a deep breath.

"Yes?"

He looked at her carefully. "Are you committed to us?"

"Whole-heartedly," she said without hesitation.

"I am, too. And that's all that matters," he told her with yet another smile. "What happened between us—the misunderstanding, the miscommunication, and the stupid, stubborn pride—is in the past. Let's leave it there. No regrets. No recriminations."

"Focus only on the present and the future?"

"Exactly."

"Deal," she said scooting back into his arms. After she gladly accepted his kiss to seal this amendment to their agreement, she told him, "See how wise you are?"

"Age before beauty, kiddo. That's all it is."

"No, it's not," she told him soberly. Knowing what he was thinking, she turned to look at him. "I'm serious. It has nothing to do with the two months you have on me, Mister—and you know it." She put one hand against his heart, where she could feel it's steady, symbolic rhythm. "Wisdom is about perspective—the combination of head and heart working together in perfect harmony. It's about being smart and selfless, about having faith and courage. And it's about making the most of life—the good and the bad…. I envy that in you."

Touched by her words yet uncertain about how to respond, he studied her. After a moment he said quietly, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before whispering, "It's all true. Thank you for loving me." She rested her head on his shoulder and felt his hand slide under her sweatshirt and begin to rub her back. She'd missed him so much—missed his gentle and tender touch, and how cherished she felt when tucked securely in his arms.

He kissed the top of her head. "You should have seen the reaction of all the guys when your accomplice walked onto the court. I swear their jaws dropped all the way to the floor."

"What about yours?" She raised her head.

Uh oh! Busted. Way to go, champ. Way to talk yourself back in the doghouse on the same day you got out of it. Real smart. "Well…"

"She's a beautiful girl."

He shrugged. "If you like skinny blondes. Personally I prefer tall, brilliant and challenging redheads."

"Good thing, too."

"Where did you find her?"

"She's one of Sue's piano students. And a very nice person."

"You know, I'm never going to live this morning down—particularly the 'Roderic' part. I will be mocked mercilessly."

"The price you pay," she said with a shrug of her own. "They won't dare take it too far. They know how sharp your elbows are."

"Hey," he protested lightly, "I'm a lover, not a fighter."

She laughed. "You're a lover and a fighter. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

He kissed her forehead.

"Besides I figured the occasion warranted something dramatic."

"And you were looking for some cover?" He shifted positions and sprawled his legs across the hearth to make it more comfortable for them.

"Guilty as charged." She put her legs against his on the fireplace and snuggled closer into him. "I was a nervous wreck. Never in my life had I felt more right about something yet more scared."

"Much ado about nothing," he told her with a grin. "All you had to do was open the door and I was yours."

"And admit the sun is the moon, and that midnight is noon, my Petruccio?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye, lifting her head to look in his face.

He laughed and turned his face towards her. "Kiss me, Kate."

She reached up and did just that until they were both out of breath. Then she settled back in his embrace and silently rejoiced when his hand again began to knead her back. She returned the favor by lightly stroking his chest.

They cuddled while watching the low flames dance in the fireplace. For the moment it was enough to be wrapped in each other's arms, secure in the knowledge that they were back where they wanted to be: together.

After some time Rod asked, "You awake?"

"Awake and blissfully content."

"Good."

They lapsed back into a comfortable silence, letting their minds relish much happier thoughts than had been their companions the previous couple of months. Eventually Mac spoke. "Honey?"

"Yeah?" he lazily answered.

She tilted her head and, seeing that his eyes were closed, she got nervous. Maybe it wasn't the right time. "Never mind. It's not important."

Instantly alert, he opened his eyes and looked down at her. "What's not important?"

"Nothing. It can wait. Go back to sleep."

"I wasn't sleeping—just hanging out."

"But you're tired…."

"Mackenzie…."

She heard the familiar hint of warning in his voice and knew the time to talk about the elephant in the room had, in fact, arrived. She sat up and shyly admitted, "I think I'm ready now…. I mean, I know I am."

He scrunched up his face in confusion. "Ready?"

"To make love," she said.

He felt all the air leave his lungs. He'd expected to have this conversation with her. However, he hadn't expected that she would be the one to initiate it.

"Rod, I want you. Want to make love with you."

He was torn. He wanted her with every cell in his body. But in spite of the confidence he heard in her voice, he remained unconvinced that this was the right thing for her. It's something too important to risk screwing around with, he thought wryly. He reached out and brushed a few stray hairs back from her face before lightly stroking her cheek. "I can't tell you what it means to hear those words, and to have you come to me. I want to make love with you, too. Want it more than I've ever wanted anything."

"But?" she questioned.

"But I can't…. I mean, I can…. But not right now."

"I don't understand."

With a weak smile, he admitted, "I'm not sure I do either. Hear me out, though."

"Okay?" She didn't know what else to say. This was the last reaction she'd expected.

"I had a lot of time to think the past nine weeks. I was wrong to push you. This isn't a test," he said with a shake of his head. "I was wrong to treat our relationship like other past relationships. It's not. It never could be. It's different—unique and extraordinary. It should be treated that way. I should have seen that all along. I didn't… and I'm sorry."

She put a hand on his thigh. "Honey, you've never pushed. It was me. My problem. I know that…."

"I appreciate that… I do." He sighed. "Do you remember the night before we broke up, we were in the car and you asked if I was angry because you'd stopped our lovemaking?"

She nodded.

"Do you remember what I told you?"

"That it could never be right until it's right for both of us?"

"Exactly." He took both of her hands. "It's not right for me—not now. I don't think it's right for you either—not yet. I've changed. I don't want what I wanted before." He took a deep breath. Never in his wildest dreams last night could he have imagined that he'd be doing this today. Now he could think of nothing else. He saw the confusion in her face. He wanted her to understand—needed her to understand. "The truth is that there's only one person I want to make love with for the rest of my life. And that's my wife."

"Your wife?"

"My wife," he said again with a smile. "Wait right here."

Stunned she watched him walk into his bedroom before the fear and panic set in. What did he mean? Had his feelings, in fact, changed? Was he trying to let her down easy?

XXXXXXXXXX

He returned a minute later to find her nervously pacing around the room. He knew what she was thinking and it was the last thing he'd intended. Directly he went to her and without saying a word, pressed her against the length of his body and kissed her with all the love that was in him. It was a kiss meant to drive away every last doubt and fear. When he felt her body literally sigh, he knew he'd got it right.

Gently he released her and led her by the hand to the other sofa. When she was seated, he dropped down onto his knees and pulled a small box out of his pocket. He opened it and, looking into her surprised eyes, said, "Mackenzie Spencer Allen, I love you with everything that I have: Every fiber of my being, every hair on my head—everything. Will you marry me? I want you to be my wife."

Astounded and amused, she watched as he began nervously to fidget with the ring.

"I know this is a shock. I hadn't really planned myself…. I don't expect an answer right now. The last thing I want to do is…"

"Roderic," she breathlessly interrupted. When he raised his head to her, she wanted to laugh. He looked like a little boy who'd been caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. When she had his attention she said, "Yes."

Flummoxed, he sat back on his knees and shut the jewelry box. "Yes, you want to think about it?"

"Yes, I want to marry you."

He heard her words but they didn't quite compute. "It's okay if you want to think about it. Really, it is."

"Come here," she said gesturing up to the sofa. When he was seated next to her, she said. "I don't need time to think about it. I've been thinking about nothing else."

"You have? Really?"

"I have," she assured him with a nod. "Do you know what was the last thing Cooper told me the other day?" she asked rhetorically. "He told me to think about my future and what I want from it. And about what I was giving up if I let things stay like they were between us. What I want is, us. You told me right here in this room that you were convinced that we could be happier together than we ever could be apart. After nine weeks without you, I know you're right. I hated every day—every hour—every minute—we were apart. I don't want to live without you by my side… ever again. So yes, Roderic Gabriel Calloway, I will marry you. I will play the game of life with you, seek that promise of joy with you."

Elated he threw his arms around her and hugged her tight before attaching his forehead to hers. When he released her, he was relieved to find that she, too, had a few tears in her eyes. Otherwise he would never live it down with their children and grandchildren, that he was the only one to get emotional when they decided to marry. Again he opened the little box and this time, he removed the ring with sure hands.

She held her breath as he took her left hand and slid it on the appropriate finger.

He, on the other hand, held his breath hoping it would fit. When it did, he silently thanked Sue for her accurate sizing information.

"It's beautiful," she told him staring at the wide, antique gold band with a brilliant solitaire diamond that was far too big.

"Do you honestly like it? Because if you don't, we can get something else."

"I love it," she told him with a kiss. "I can't believe you had this is in your room. I didn't mean for you to take the message on my sweatshirt quite so literally. I'm glad you did. But how did you know?"

"Kiddo, the message on the sweatshirt was for your benefit—not mine. I've had the ring since our first week together," he informed her. "I went to see Nana that weekend. Told her that I'd met the woman I intended to marry. She gave me the ring. She'd set it aside particularly for this purpose when I was a boy. My grandfather gave it to her on their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary."

"Rod, I can't take…. It belongs to her."

"She wants you to have it," he told her confidently. "She's always wanted me to have the kind of marriage she and my grandfather had. The kind of marriage my parents, and yours, have. And with you, she's confident I'll have that. Next to us, I don't think there will be anyone more excited about our decision."

"I don't know," Mac responded with a smile. "I think my parents may give her some competition. My father not only likes you, he respects you. And my mother…. Well, my mother is convinced you walk on water."

"Do you know what I think?" he asked mischievously. "I think we just found the name for our first daughter: Rebecca Katherine or Katherine Rebecca."

She eyed him skeptically and he added, "When the right time eventually comes."

"I love it. Either combination." Again she looked down at her left hand. She couldn't seem to stop gazing at her new accessory.

Seeing her enthusiastically study the ring brought a smile to his face. He put his arm around her and she instantly snuggled against him. While she stared at her hand, he looked at her.

Eventually she turned her attention to him and was struck by the love and desire she saw in his eyes. She owed him so much. "Are you sure you're okay with us waiting? It's not like either one of us is a virgin."

"I'm sure. It just feels like the right thing to do."

"I think so, too…. You don't want a long engagement, do you?"

He chuckled. "Mackenzie, if it were up to me, we would get married today."

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Let's get married today." Seeing his blank stare, she added, "I'm serious. Let's get married today. Why wait?"

"Don't you want a big wedding with a dozen bridesmaids and a fancy dress, surrounded by hundreds of our friends, our parents' friends and obscure relatives we haven't seen in twenty years?"

"No," she shook her head. "Total waste of time and money. All I need is you. We'll be just like Rebecca and Gabriel."

He studied her close. "Honey, are you sure this is what you want? I mean, I guess we could have a big wedding later. I just want you to be happy. I want you to have the wedding you've always dreamed about."

"That's just it," she explained. "I've never cared about the big wedding or all the stuff that goes with it. The only thing I've ever wanted is the handsome prince and the happily ever after. I have that… and he's more than I ever dreamed."

"And he loves you to distraction."

"Rod, I know it's a leap of faith. I get that now. We can wait: three months, six months… a year. But it won't change the faith and commitment required for us to make a good marriage—a strong marriage. It won't make the future any more certain. I want to take this step with you—only with you. I don't want to wait. Do you?"

"No. Absolutely not," he agreed, though the reality of it was still sinking in. "I have no idea what's required for a license. But let's do it." He looked at his watch. It was two o'clock. He stood and reached out a hand to her. "We'd better hurry, though."

"I'll call the clerks office and see what I can find out," she said walking towards the kitchen.

"Good idea," he called after her. "And if we can't do it here, we can always fly to Vegas."

"I'd rather do it here," she said coming back in the room phone book in hand.

"Me, too."

Suddenly another thought came to her. "Um… maybe you'd better talk to my Dad. He's kind of big on that kind of thing."

"I already did."

"How? When?"

"The night of his birthday party when he took me into his study. He gave me his blessing, by the way."

She was astonished. "So that's why my parents were certain you still loved me and adamant it wasn't over between us." She put down the phone book and went to him. Putting her arms around his neck she told him, "You really have been patiently waiting for me, haven't you? You've known all along and have already made that leap of faith."

Enclosing his arms around her waist, he smiled down at her. "Kiss me, Kate."

And she did.