"So take your time and figure it out. If you think the instructor thing would work for you, fine. But don't do it for me. Our relationship isn't contingent on you quitting reconnaissance."
"It can keep me away from home for long periods of time, Lily."
"And I'd miss you like crazy if that were the case. But I don't plan to give up my job, and it takes me away from home for a week or two at a time too." She kneaded his shoulders. "I guess what I'm trying to say is: if doing your thing in far off places is what makes you happy, then that's what you oughtta be doing."
"God, I love you."
She grinned at him, then wiggled her butt experimentally. His always-willing-to-be-aroused dick rose to the occasion, but he tried to ignore the messages it sent for a moment. "The truth is, honey chile, doing my thing in far-off places has been losing its allure for a while now. I just haven't figured out yet what I want to replace it with. But whatever that turns out to be could very well mean having to pick up stakes and move across the country. Your restaurant—"
"Can wait. I meant what I said last night, Zach. Two years just isn't that long in the general scheme of things. It simply means I'll have that much more time to save my money, which means I'll have a better cushion for when I start up my place."
"Sweetheart, if you want a cushion, I've got a boatload of mon—" He broke off when he saw her expression. "Uh-oh," he said, giving the thigh that had gone rigid beneath his hand a squeeze. "I know that look. That's the look that makes me feel as if I've pissed in the middle of your tea party. I guess it'll be a pretty chilly day in hell before you accept my financial help, huh?"
The starch left her spine. "It's not that I'm adverse to helping you spend your money," she assured him earnestly. "Heck, if it'll make you happy, you can pay all the household bills—keep me in style. You can even support my shoe habit if you want. But, Zach, the restaurant has been my dream for as long as I can remember—and I have to succeed or fail at it on my own." Her delicate eyebrows drew together. "Does that make me the worst kind of hypocrite?"
"No, ma'am. That makes you a woman of character."
"Oh, my." She rested her head on his shoulder. "I think I may just have to marry you after all."
Every corpuscle in his body screamed yes ! but he managed to keep his voice light when he said, "So, what convinced you? I bet it was my willingness to play sta-bleboy, wasn't it?"
"Well, I have seen the stallion you're bringing to the bargaining table," she agreed, and wiggled upon the object under discussion. But when she framed his face in her hands and looked into his eyes, her own were no longer teasing. "Mostly, though, it's because I have never met another person with as much love to give as you have. I've seen what it's like to be the object of your affections, Zachariah, the lengths you'll go to for those you love. And I can't think of a greater privilege than to be your wife."
"Jesus, Lily," he said hoarsely. No one had ever made him feel the way she did. He never dreamed his heart could swell to such proportions that it downright amazed him the two of them didn't float right up to the ceiling. "I love you so freaking much. And I promise you this: I'll make you happy. I'm gonna make you so damn happy—and while I'm at it, I promise to give you one hell of a ride, too."
"I don't doubt that for a minute. And I've gotta confess: your offer to play stableboy was a consideration. Speaking of which—" She subtly rocked upon his lap. "Isn't it about time to bring out the stallion?"
"Oh, absolutely," he said with a tug of his forelock, and laughing, he rolled her onto the bed. "As madam wishes."