of my affection for you, I will talk to her instead.”
“You really love me?” I say wonderingly and then clutch my head as the headache flares.
“Into the ambulance,” he says quickly, worry clouding his eyes.
An hour later, I sit on the bed in the ambulance watching the few people that are left in the forecourt. It’s twilight now, and the lilac-coloured sky provides a fitting accompaniment to the lights from the ambulance. Oz comes towards me from where he’s been filling in the paperwork from the fire brigade confirming that it was a false alarm.
He hops up next to me and hugs me. “How are you?” he asks anxiously. “You look a better colour, baby.”
The paramedic claps me gently on my shoulder. “He’s fine,” he says. “His vision is good, and I can’t see any signs of a concussion. He won’t go to the hospital, but he says the pain is less after he’s had some tablets. I’ll give you a list of what to look out for tonight if he won’t go and get checked over by a doctor.”
Oz opens his mouth, and I shake my head gently, relieved that the pain has gone a little. “No,” I say firmly. “I have plans tonight. We have plans.”
“We do?” He looks unsure.
“Not anything you’re going to be doing for a bit,” the paramedic says. “I want you to sit still while we pack up.” He climbs down and goes over to speak to his partner who’s standing by the fire engine.
Oz leans into me, his weight familiar and warm, and his warm ginger aftershave weaves around me. Tension leaves my body, his scent making me peaceful and happy. A bat swoops over us and a breeze kicks up wafting the scent of lavender from the garden towards us. I inhale and look around.
“Chaos, eh?” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. He sighs happily. “But even chaos with you is still good.” He rests his head against my shoulder, the waves of his hair tickling my nose, and I smile.
“I give up,” I say softly and start to laugh. “I’ve tried the romantic route, but so far I’ve had to wait on tables and nearly had public sex in front of a group of octogenarians. I nearly knocked myself out getting back in my jeans. I just give up.”
He looks bewildered, but his lip twitches at my laughter, and he starts to laugh himself. I grin at his animated face and turn to him.
“Oz Gallagher,” I say. It’s a bit too loud and his laughter dies away. “Will you marry me?”
“What?”
I nod and grab his hand. “Will you marry me?” I bite my lip. “I love you,” I say simply. “I want to spend my whole life with you coping with chaos, eating late meals, and managing bills and eccentric members of staff.”
“You could do all that without a ring,” he says. He sounds almost breathless.
Love swamps me. “Yes, I could. But I want to laugh with you, sleep with you, and eat and talk late at night, and I want to do all that with rings on our fingers.” I pause and then say steadily, “I want you protected, darling. If I die–”
“Oh, don’t,” he chokes out.
I hug him tight. “If I died tomorrow, I’d be happy because I’ve had you, but hopefully we have many more years together. But if it happens, I want you looked after the way you look after me.” I look at him. His pretty eyes are full of tears, but his gaze is steadfast, and my worries calm instantly because this is my Oz, and he’s perfect for me. “Well?” I ask.
He wipes his fingers frantically under his eyes and shakes his head. “Of course I will,” he says, and I let out my breath in relief. “I never thought I’d get married, but then I never knew you’d come along, and I would love to be married to you. Not for security but because you make me so bloody happy, Silas. I never knew anyone could mean as much to me as you do.”
“I’m sorry it isn’t more romantic,” I sigh, but he shakes his head.
“I find with you that romance is relative to the people concerned. With you, romance is being together, smelling your scent, hearing your voice and feeling your body against mine. It’s false-alarm fire engines and sitting in the lavender garden.” His voice lowers. “It’s sometimes fucking all night and sometimes making love and