He eased his weight from her. “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
“Mmmm.”
“You seemed to like it.”
“I have to admit, doing it on the lawn held a certain allure, but I’m starting to feel a little weird.”
“Takes some getting used to,” he said.
“You’ve done this a lot?”
“No. But I’ve thought about it a lot. Mostly on the way home in the limo.” He raised his head and sniffed. “I smell meat loaf.”
“It’s dinner.”
“You made meat loaf for dinner?” He got to his feet and took her with him. “If I’d known there was meat loaf in the oven, I never would have bothered with sex.”
The cherry blossoms were blooming when Pete and Louisa returned to Washington. They stood on the front porch of the house on 27th Street, suitcases stacked at their feet, and they looked at the two front doors.
“We have sort of an odd problem here,” Pete said. “It looks to me like we’re at a crossroads in our relationship.”
Louisa steeled herself to a nervous flutter in her stomach. He hadn’t mentioned marriage for a month and a half, and she was scared to broach the subject. She opted for the safe, cowardly route. “I suppose we should move back into our own apartments.”
“Is that what you want?”
She could hear the wounded surprise in his voice and secretly rejoiced. The idea of living separately was just as abhorrent to him as it was to her.
In the past two months she’d come to appreciate Pete’s easygoing ways. His casual attitude about possessions and routine had made him a comfortable housemate. She thought it strange that those traits she’d originally hated in him were the very things she now found most appealing. And the little rituals of peace and solitude that had once been so important, now seemed sterile and distasteful. She enjoyed sharing her paper and her morning coffee. And she loved him. Lord, how she loved him.
“Well?” Pete asked.
“I’m thinking.”
He sighed and looked heavenward for patience. “Take your time.”
“You play your cards right, and I might consider marrying you.”
He flashed her a wide smile. “I knew you’d come around. What finally clinched it? Was it my charm? My superior intelligence? My studly butt?”
She shook her head. “It was your ventilation system.”
“You mean you’re marrying me because my apartment smells better than yours?”
“There’s more. Remember when you asked me what women wanted from a marriage and I said undying devotion and a warm place to put cold feet?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Can you guarantee me of both those things?”
“The undying devotion is easy. I don’t know about the cold feet. Which warm place did you have in mind?”
“You’ll never change,” she said. “Your mind is always in the gutter.”
“It’s my birthright.”
“It would have to be a church wedding,” Louisa said.
“Of course.”
“And Kurt couldn’t wear his watch cap and sweatshirt if he was best man.”
“Kurt wouldn’t be best man. My brother Chris would be best man.” Pete saw the look of relief on her face. Understandable, he thought. And because he didn’t want to ruin the moment for her, he didn’t have the heart to tell her about Chris. Besides, after Kurt, all those tattoos and the gold tooth might not seem so bad.
About the Author
Bestselling author JANET EVANOVICH is the winner of the New Jersey Romance Writers Golden Leaf Award and multiple Romantic Times awards, including Lifetime Achievement. She is also a long-standing member of RWA.
“Romance novels are birthday cake and life is often peanut butter and jelly. I think everyone should have lots of delicious romance novels lying around for those times when the peanut butter of life gets stuck to the roof of your mouth.” Janet Evanovich, 1988
Visit Janet Evanovich’s website at www.evanovich.com, or write her at P.O. Box 5487, Hanover, NH 03755.
