Real Romance - By Ginny Baird Page 0,43

the last cent."

Marie reached out and laid a hand on the arm of his suit coat.

"Oh, David, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was like that—with you and your folks. Don't you even... keep in touch?"

"Sure," he said, with a wry smile, "we get together every time Debbie plans a wedding."

"Oh," Marie said, dabbing her lips with her napkin and seeming to change her mind. "Guess it's not something you want to talk about."

David brought his other hand to the table top and linked it in hers. "No, go on. I want to hear what you have to say."

"It's really not my place."

"If it were your place," he said gently, "and I asked you, would you tell me?"

"Of course," she said, unable to look away.

"Then tell me, Marie. Whatever it is that's on your mind."

"It's silly, maybe. Because I don't know Debbie at all. I mean, I'm sure that—if I did—I'd like her."

"She'd like you too," he said with a tender smile, "very much."

"Well, anyway, if your family really doesn't get along and you don't see each other much... don't you think it's possible Debbie keeps getting engaged as a way of bringing all of you together?"

David blinked and looked down at the table. It was scary, positively alarming the way she'd looked right into the situation and seen it so clearly for what it was. Of course, she had to be right. Right about his sister, right about his family.

Right on the money when it came to him.

David reached his other hand toward her, and they sat holding hands for the longest while, neither one speaking.

"I used to get sort of frustrated with the service in here," David said, slowly looking up, "but tonight I'm sort of glad for the lull. I don't know how you do it, Marie," he said, his crystal blue eyes starting to blur, "but you have a way of looking right through me, of seeing"—he brought one hand to his chest and pressed her palm to his heart—"what's in here."

Her lower lip began to tremble. He couldn't possibly be—

"Alfredo?" the waiter asked, handing over her plate.

They continued to talk throughout the delicious meal about every subject under the sun, but somehow they always came back to tonight's topic: weddings. David was regaling her with anecdotes from all the ones he'd attended and Marie listened raptly.

"Well, anyway," he went on, laughing, "until tonight, of course, that was the last wedding I went to. And after seeing the way those other groomsmen tossed poor Blake into the pool, I said never again."

"Never again, that you'd go to a wedding or be part of one?"

Marie smiled politely at the waiter as he cleared their dishes.

"Participate—as a groomsman, I mean. Hey, I was minding my own business at the bar. I had nothing to do with that let's-throw-Blake-in-the-pool-and-spray-shaving-cream-on-his-new-car business. But he was seeing double from the chlorine. To this day he holds me culpable. You try to be a nice guy..."

"And look where it gets you," she finished for him.

Yeah, he was looking. Looking right past those turquoise frames and into a soul he knew sparked with desire. She was beautiful tonight. More beautiful than ever: her upswept hair surrounding her lovely face with curls, her sleek, long neck begging for his kisses, her tastefully low-cut dress tempting him to touch...

"Well, if it matters to you," she said, bringing him back to earth with her smile. "I'm completely in your corner. I've sworn off weddings, too."

His heart sank. "Huh?" he asked, none too eloquently, reaching for his water glass with a gasp and downing it completely.

She eyed him curiously, but kept talking.

"Weddings. They're for the birds. You know, the ones who eat the rice. Such a headache, too...."

David looked around desperately for the waiter, but when he couldn't find him reached for Marie's water glass instead.

"Help yourself," she said, wrinkling up her nose. My, he was acting strange all of a sudden.

"You mean," David asked, his voice still a bit froggy, "you don't want to get married? Ever?"

Marie grabbed back her water glass and took a long sip, before setting it back down at her place.

"Who's asking?"

"I, uh..."

David turned red from the neck up.

"I am," he said, loudly clearing his throat.

She gasped at him, momentarily tongue-tied. His eyes were earnest and opened wide, his upper lip quivering.

"Marie," he said, shocking her by pushing back his chair and falling to his knees beside her. "Marry me."

Her first reaction was joy. Sheer, overwhelming joy. The man of her dreams had actually...

But then she thought of Johnny. Johnny and Meg with their own wedding three and a half weeks away.

And of all the time she'd already taken to help Joanne.

She wanted to say yes, but not right now. Find a way to keep him holding on for just a couple of more months.

But then he reached his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope.

"What's this?" she asked, as he set it down on the table before her.

"Open it," David urged. "Don't say yes or no. Just open it."

David watched her studying the envelope and held his breath. It took all his restraint not to lean over and rip it open for her.

He tried to take a mental picture to capture the moment in his mind. He'd proposed! Gone and done it! Taken the plunge headlong, and now the rest was entirely up to her.

David began a silent prayer, looking skyward.

And then, as if in answer, she fitted her nail under the seal and popped it open.

"Airline tickets?" she exclaimed, astonished. "Oh, David, that's so sweet, but—"

"Read them," he said, leveling her a look from his kneeling position.

Marie looked back down at the round-trip tickets in her hand.

"Jamaica?"

"There's something else in there," he said, still on the floor.

She narrowed her lovely eyes, then peeked into the envelope again.

"Oh, David," she gasped, pulling out a gorgeous solitaire.

David took the diamond from her hand and gently slid it onto her left ring finger.

"Marie McCloud," he said, his voice now stronger, braver, than he ever could have imagined. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" He took a very deep breath. "Let me carry you away to Jamaica where we can say our vows on a sandy beach, without the worries, the headaches..."

He gave a shaky smile as a tear broke free from the corner of his eye.

"Hey, I'll go if she won't!" someone shouted from the back of the restaurant.

"Oh, David," Marie said, leaping to her feet and pulling him up from the floor. "You make it awfully hard to say no. I do want to marry you, I do. And I love you," she said, looking deep in his eyes.

"I love you, too," he whispered back, bringing his arms around her waist and pulling her up against him.

She hardly knew whether to laugh or cry. "But I can't go to Jamaica. I can't..."

David quelled her emotion with a kiss.

"You can," he commanded firmly. "I've already arranged your vacation with your employer. We'll be back in plenty of time for your brother Johnny's wedding."

"David," she said, breathless, her helpless knees giving way. "I have obligations to meet. Deadlines... You can't just sweep in here and carry me away!"

"Watch me," he said.

And then, to a round of applause from the restaurant patrons, David swooped down and threw her over his shoulder.

The End

A Note from the Author

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Look for The Sometime Bride, for sale online now!

Also watch for Santa Fe Fortune,

the first novel in my brand new "Girls on the Go" series.

Coming soon in 2012!