Disclaimer: ...I think you all know by now.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews, as always, they make my day! :) please let me know what you think... I was tempted to post another chapter, but I think I'll draw this out a little... Anyone know what's coming? :P
Enjoy!
Chapter 7: Proposal
I scanned through application after application—Sara was right, there were some that were easy to dismiss immediately… missing letters of recommendation, experience as police officers in towns of 16 people, bachelor's degrees from small town colleges I'd never heard of… and even the really appealing applicants seemed to pale in comparison as Sara's answers to questions, her specific experience, and the bulk of her education… I wanted her to work with me, but there were several reasons I stopped myself from mentioning the subject.
First of all, there were rules against dating in the same unit… and there weren't any openings for the day shift…yet. I didn't feel like, at the start of our life together, losing the primary income was a smart idea… and I didn't want to hide Sara. I wanted to parade her—show the whole world how amazing and wonderful and unbelievable that such an amazing woman would have me.
Secondly, even if we did hide the relationship, I would be like a boss to her, indirectly, as I wasn't a supervisor, per se… but she would still be my subordinate. I didn't like that… it reminded me of how young she was, and how I'd almost been stupid enough to let her slip through my fingers, because she'd still been in school. And I never wanted her to look at me as anything but an equal—a partner, a lover, a friend.
And, it was true, I had some insecurities about asking her to stay—what if she really wanted to work at the San Francisco lab? Or felt obligated? Or simply wasn't ready to move in together? To move to an entirely different city for our relationship? I would move for her—I didn't want to, the lab had been my entire life before Sara, and I had worked hard for it—but I would, if that was the only way to be together. I just wasn't exactly sure how to broach the subject with her…
But I was in love with her—I hadn't told her so, exactly… poetry while making love was hardly a confession—and I felt like she might feel the same about me. I loved her in a way that I had never been able to love Laura or Becky, and I wanted her to be mine, to be hers, forever. …Strange that a man who had spent his entire life, slow and steady, looking for love and not finding it… had somehow stumbled upon it, while looking the other way… and was now racing to the finish line. …Sometimes though, you just know.
Tuesday night, lying in bed and watching her sleep—back at the townhouse, it was hard to sleep at night, I was so used to sleeping in this bed during the day—she had whimpered, softly, in her sleep. I had scooted closer, to look more closely—she had a bead of sweat on her forehead, and she was trembling.
Even knowing it was only a nightmare, I panicked—I never wanted her to ever feel pain—but forced myself to calm down… to not wake her, because she would not want to talk about it… that much I knew. Instead, I wrapped my arms around her body, gently, and rocked her as softly as I could, trying not to wake her. She stopped trembling, her whimpers stilled, and after only a minute, she had curled up to me, her breathing soft and peaceful.
It was in that moment that I knew what to do—even if it might scare her away—because she deserved to know everything… and to know everything I would offer her, if she would have me.
The first night in town, I'd taken her sightseeing—one step into the garage and she'd been laughing at my Mercedes. Defensively, I asked what had been so funny and she'd laughed again, saying it just surprised her—I didn't seem like a "car man."
So when I'd started planning, my first step was to sell it. Being a 41-year old man driving through Las Vegas, in a Mercedes, with a beautiful woman, in her mid-twenties, beside him had been too much for me anyway, and then I would have money to buy her the ring she deserved, not just one I could afford without being short for Amber's college money. Ecklie had admired the car when I first purchased it, and so he would be my first call.
Wednesday, I made an excuse to my sweet, sweet Sara that I had to run in to the office for a couple hours and would she be okay at the townhouse by herself? She asked to come in, to see the lab—I hadn't expected this, though, granted, I probably should have—and stammered through a half-assed refusal. She'd looked upset, but had relented. I met Ecklie at the lab—he paid me, and even agreed to let me keep a lab vehicle for a week, until I invested in a replacement vehicle.
Depositing his check, I debated calling Catherine to assist with the purchase of a ring—What did I know about jewelry, after all? But it seemed too personal a purchase to trust to someone else, so I made my way to a jewelry store—well off the strip (she deserved as much)—and spent an hour with a poor sales woman who was in over her head; I needed a lot of guidance.
Finally I had chosen one I thought she would like, and though it wasn't nearly what she deserved, it was what I could afford; but Sara herself had a quiet, understated beauty, and I didn't think she would want anything larger anyway.
It had been nearly two hours, and I still needed to make a stop or two. I rushed out of the store, continually patting the inside breast pocket of my coat, wanting to be certain that I hadn't lost it, and hurried, feeling the nerves begin to rattle me.
Tonight could quite possibly be the most important night of my life.
