by Nora Roberts
He looped the chain, hooked a link. Tugged to test it. “Not that she’ll stop trying.”
He walked around, looped the other chain. “She’ll go to jail.” He spoke conversationally, and she wondered if he thought she couldn’t see the fatigue on his face. “But she won’t change. She won’t change because she can’t see herself. And when she gets out, it’s a pretty sure bet she’ll come back this way, sooner or later, make another play for money. She’s in my life, and I can deal with that.”
He gave the swing a little nudge, sent it swaying. “It’s a lot to ask someone else to take on.”
“Yes, it is. I plan on having a long heart-to-heart with my parents. But I don’t think it’ll change anything. They’re overly possessive, discontent people who will, most likely, continue to use me as a weapon against each other, or an excuse not to face their own marriage on its own terms. They’re in my life, and I can deal with that.”
She paused, tilted her head. “It’s a lot to ask someone else to take on.”
“Guess it is. Want to try this out?”
“I do.”
They sat, swung gently as dusk thickened and the water lapped the shore. “Does it work for you?” he asked her.
“It certainly does. This is exactly where I would’ve hung it.”
“Dru?”
“Hmmm?”
“Are you going to marry me?”
Her lips tipped up at the corners. “That’s my plan.”
“It’s a good plan.” He took her hand, lifted it to his lips. “Are you going to have children with me?”
Her eyes stung, but she kept them closed and continued to swing gently. “Yes. That’s the second stage of the plan. You know how I feel about stages.”
He turned her hand over, kissed her palm. “Grow old with me, here, in the house by the water.”
She opened her eyes now, let the first tear spill down her cheek. “You knew that would make me cry.”
“But just a little. Here.” He drew a ring out of his pocket, a simple gold band with a small round ruby. “It’s pretty plain, but it was Stella’s—it was my grandmother’s.” Slipped it on her finger. “The guys thought she’d like me to have it.”
“Oh-oh.”
“What?”
Her fingers tightened on his as she pulled his hand to her cheek. “It may not be just a little after all. It’s the most beautiful thing you could have given me.”
He laid his lips on hers, drawing her in as she wrapped her arms around him. “Somebody really smart told me you’ve got to look ahead. You can’t forget what’s behind you, but you got to move forward. It starts now. For us, it starts now.”
“Right now.”
She laid her head on his shoulder, held his hand tight in hers. They rocked on the swing in the heavy night air while the water turned dark with night, and the fireflies began to dance.
About the Author
Nora Roberts is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than 200 novels. She is also the author of the bestselling In Death series written under the pen name J. D. Robb. There are more than 500 million copies of her books in print.
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