"One week."
"Six months."
"Two weeks."
"Five months."
"Sweetheart," he said, his hands spanning the width of my stomach. His thumbs caressed back and forth. "I don't want to give you time to change your mind."
That was a very real possibility, and I couldn't deny it.
"I would never hurt you, never cheat on you. Let me prove it. I want to be with you, Naomi, and only you."
He kissed me then and the heat of his mouth sizzled hotter than flames. Rational thought skidded to a halt. My senses reeled. I felt transported on a soft wispy cloud of desire. Inch by inch, he was tearing down the stones I'd worked so hard to erect against him.
"I can't believe this," I said, pulling away and going cold with shock. "Shit. I'm getting married again."
His lips lifted in a slow, satisfied, triumphant grin.
I felt so vulnerable at that moment, but I knew that I wanted him. "Okay," I said. "We'll do the deed the day after your mom's party." Maybe that was for the best. Less time to worry. Less time to panic.
Leaning toward me, he softly kissed my lips. "You won't be sorry. I swear to you now, you won't be sorry I have to go out of town for the next week, but when I get back-"
A cold chill slithered down my spine. God, the wifely what's-he-doing-while-he's-away worry had started already. "You're going out of town again?" I tried not to pout, tried not to cry. "So soon?"
"I'm looking at another plane." He kissed both of my hands. "You can come with me."
"No." I shook my head. "I have to stay here and plan the we-event."
I only prayed I could go through with it when the time came.
Chapter Nineteen
If you find yourself weakened, leave. Get away as fast as you can. Only after you've rebuilt your strength should you return.
My mom almost died of shock when I called to tell her my news. The line went completely silent for several minutes before Jonathan came around and revived her.
I heard him say, "Gloria, Gloria, are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital? You fainted."
"Naomi's getting married," she told him, trying to catch her breath.
"To a man?" he asked.
I scowled.
"Yes," my mom said. "A man. Royce Powell, actually."
"You're kidding," Jonathan gasped.
"How could I joke about something like this?"
"Mom." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Focus on me. Your only daughter."
"Is this because of the triplets?" she asked.
Like I really needed a reminder that I might be pregnant. Thanks, Mom. I'd managed to block all thoughts of babies and diapers from my mind until now. Was I pregnant? So far I hadn't had any signs. Why couldn't I have a normal period? I had no idea when I should start.
I'd had no unusual cravings-for food, that is. Sexually, I was craving some pretty kinky stuff. My breasts weren't tender and my stomach was as flat as ever. Weren't those the only signs for the first month?
I knew so little about kids. Maybe I should have gotten a book on the subject or something.
"Well," my mother prompted. "Is it because of the triplets?"
"Of course not. There are no triplets. And he loves me."
She paused. "Do you love him?"
I wasn't ready to answer that, so I said, "Mom, you're losing focus again. I'm getting married. You're going to have a new son-in-law. Don't you want to meet him?"
"Dear God, yes. You have to bring Royce over tomorrow for a relaxing family dinner. I need to talk to him. He's got to be some sort of magician, making you forget about Richard and take another marital plunge."
My hand tightened on the phone.
"I need to give him my treat-her-right speech," Jonathan added, his voice floating over the line.
God save me. And God save Royce.
The next morning, Royce showed up at my apartment with an odd gleam in his eyes. I nervously let him inside, but kept my face toward the door, afraid to look at him again. What was going on in his head? Had he changed his mind about me? No, surely not. Look how hard he'd fought for me. Was he going to try and convince me to fly to Las Vegas?
Deep breath in, deep breath out. I turned to him, about to demand to know what was going on, but he was on one knee. "Ohmygod." My own knees almost buckled.
"Naomi," he said, holding up a black velvet box with a simple but elegant platinum diamond resting in the center.
"Ohmygod," I said again. This would make it official. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.
"Will you marry me?" he asked.
I'd already said yes, so I hadn't expected him to do anything like this. Warm tears filled my eyes. How could one man be so wonderful? How could one man be so giving and charming and loving?
He was almost too good to be true.
Wait. Wasn't that a bad thing?
I gave him my trembling hand, anyway. He kissed my palm before sliding the ring on my finger. The platinum looked good against my pale complexion. I twisted the band with my fingers, and it slid easily because I was sweating.
Royce stood, his eyes intent and filled with so much love and desire my stomach clenched. "It looks good on you here," he said, "but I want to see how it looks on you in bed."
Slowly I grinned. Now there was something guaranteed to drown out my fears.
Having spent the day in bed, Royce and I arrived at my mom's five minutes late for dinner. Yes, late. And I didn't even feel guilty. For the occasion, my mom had donned a formal, black sequined dress, two strands of pearls and all of her rings. Jonathan wore a suit and tie.
Royce and I were in jeans and T-shirts. "I thought this would be a relaxing family dinner," I said.
"I never thought this day would come," my mom said, grabbing Royce by the arm and leading him inside. "So excuse me for wanting to celebrate. Royce, come in, come in. I'm so pleased to finally meet you. Naomi has told me so much about you."
"Anything good?" he asked with a chuckle.
"Well, no," she admitted, "but you can't be all bad if you won her hand in marriage." She barely paused for breath. "I'd be so thrilled if you called me Mom. You are going to treat my baby right, aren't you?"
"Without a doubt."
The delicious scent of fresh-baked foods filled the house. I inhaled deeply and my mouth watered. I might be a nervous wreck, but I hadn't lost my appetite.
"Naomi!" Jonathan pulled me to him for a hug. "So glad to see you."
I returned the gesture, still not knowing what to make of his behavior lately. I continue to have no clue what he was doing with Nora.
He drew back, smiling, and turned his attention to Royce.
"It's nice to meet you," he said, holding out his hand. He and Royce shook.
"You, too. I've, uh, heard a lot about you."
"Did Naomi mention I'm a therapist? I'd be happy to give you both premarital counseling. Not enough couples do that, you know? Which is why divorce is so prevalent."
"We don't need counseling," I said. "Really. We get along very well."
Disappointment washed over Jonathan's features. "I doubt you've overcome all your relationship fears, Naomi, and being as Royce is nearing forty-you are under forty, aren't you?"
"Yes," Royce answered, clearly fighting a grin.
"And hasn't ever been married," Jonathan finished, "I think it's safe to say you could both use some professional help before you say your vows."
I rubbed my temple. Dear Heavenly Father. Strike me down. A jew locusts will do the trick. Or a plague.
"My Lord," my mom suddenly cried. "Your ring. Look at your ring, Naomi. It's lovely. Not at all like that fifty-pound monstrosity Richard gave you. I know how you hated that thing. Didn't it cause carpal tunnel syndrome? This one is perfect. It's a good size, but won't cause any muscle damage."
I almost covered my hand; it felt odd having people stare at one finger as if it were a priceless object. But I didn't. I allowed Mom and Jonathan to look, oohing and aahing. Royce had picked the perfect ring for me, and I was proud of it. Proud of him.