by Eileen Wilks
"They won't bother him if we are gone. Why should they?" Michael lifted his hand to clear the wards, but paused. "One more thing before we go. I have been giving your name some thought."
I leaned against him, smothering a yawn. "I'm not sure I can give your suggestions the proper attention right now."
"I was hoping you would let me name you, as you did me."
I straightened, looked him in the eye. After a moment I said softly, "All right."
"Then I would like you to remain Molly. And I will give you a new last name."
I nodded solemnly. "That's traditional. What did you have in mind?"
He kissed the tip of my nose. "You are my gift of grace. I name you Molly Grace."
I closed my eyes, checking the fit. And smiled, and opened my eyes. "All right… Michael Grace."
His eyes lit. "You gift me with a last name, too."
"It is the twenty-first century." Another yawn overtook me. "Michael? Can we go home now?" Because that's what Galveston was, I realized. I might leave it again, maybe many times. But I'd go back. And I wouldn't go alone.
Michael lifted the wards, banished the guttering flames on the candles, then swung me up into his arms to carry me out of the circle. I found that very funny, especially when he stumbled and nearly dropped me.
"Is this not tradition? The carrying over the threshold?" he asked.
"Close enough." I handed him his jeans and stepped into my panties. "I love you."
"Good." He said that with great satisfaction, then fumbled his way into his clothes while I pulled mine on. I finished first, and told him I wanted to check on Cullen. "Just to be sure."
His brows twitched down, but he nodded. "I will wait for you."
It was a leave-taking I needed, I realized as I tossed a blanket over Cullen's sleeping body. Something new had begun, but other things had ended. I folded up a jacket and placed it under his head for a pillow, then knelt beside him and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Good-bye," I said softly.
It wasn't really Cullen I was bidding farewell to, of course.
Michael was waiting by the node, as he'd said he would be. I walked into his arms. "You are happy?" He whispered it, as if the question was too large to say out loud. "You do not regret giving up all the beautiful young men like Cullen?"
Oh, he did know me. That was going to take some getting used to, but… "I'm happy," I told him, and grinned. "Besides, sometimes all a woman my age really wants is to curl up in bed with a good book."
Michael grinned, too. And took us home.
[end]
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