Excited murmurs grew once more around her, but Winnie heard nothing.
Mack was on her side after all.
She’d been wrong to lump him together with the men of her past. He’d shown her his depths on the trip to Whidbey, but she’d let her rage overshadow what she’d learned about him. Yes, he’d made terrible decisions, ones that had hurt her deeply. But they’d also hurt him. An important fact stood out to her: of all the men in her life, he was the first to encourage her participation in a cause that could change the course of history.
And he wanted her to do even more.
Without breaking his gaze, she gave a slow, meaningful nod and mouthed the words, “I’m in.”
Mack’s dimples flashed, and she couldn’t help but grin back at him. Then he was raising his hand in the air, calling for silence once more, and her breath caught with joyful anticipation.
“All interested parties are encouraged to sign a sheet near the front door, butnot”—He raised a finger to stop those inching backwards “—not before I introduce thePost’sfirst female reporter, a founding member of the Seattle Suffrage Society whose inaugural article appeared in this evening’s edition. Ladies and gentlemen, I present Mrs. Winnifred West.”
For the first time in her life, Winnie was speechless. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Not that it mattered. There was no way she would be heard over her friend’s shrieks. Partygoer after partygoer approached to offer their congratulations, and it was several moments before she was allowed a breath.
The other suffragists’ support and excitement was overwhelming. Her new position was a victory for all of them, proof thatanyof them could be part of this new team.
Now that she knew where he truly stood, the walls she’d built to protect herself came tumbling down, and she gasped at the wave of emotion that coursed through her. She was in love with Mack Donnelly. She embraced the truth, let it renew her body, mind, and soul.
She craned her neck, searching the crowd for his lanky form, but he was nowhere in sight. A hand grasped her arm.
“…the library.” Olive’s voice could barely be heard over the band’s jaunty tune.
Winnie gave her a distracted look. “What?”
“I said Mack is in the library. He couldn’t reach you in the crowd, so he gave me the message. He’ll wait for you there.”
She leaned in and gave Olive a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Bless you, my friend.”
Olive pointed a finger at her. “You better tell him you love him back.”
Winnie laughed. “Is it so obvious?”
Olive rolled her eyes and pushed Winnie in the library's direction.
She fought her way through the crowd, forced to pause every other step to accept congratulations and meet some unfamiliar faces. Finally, she arrived at the back of the house where the library was tucked out of sight. The door was cracked open, but not enough to invite the partygoers in.
It had been left open for her.
She threw open the door and charged inside. Mack jolted up from a chair in the corner, a brief panic on his face before dissolving into a chuckle. He opened his mouth to speak, but Winnie didn’t give him a chance. She flung herself into his arms and fused her mouth to his.
Their kiss was a wild release of pent-up passion. Her tongue sought his, plunging in and out. They stumbled against the bookcase. Mack’s strong arms grasped her tightly to his chest. She reveled in his familiar warmth, the heat she’d missed so desperately when she tried to sleep at night.
Mack ripped off his gloves and cupped the nape of her neck. The skin-on-skin contact electrified her, made her crave more. But first, they had to finish their conversation. She dragged her mouth from his lips to his cheek, drawing a ragged breath as she pulled back.
“You really meant it,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion.
“I did.” He stroked her cheek. “Because I believe in you and the cause. But mostly, I believe inus.”
“My fear made me stubborn—”
He surprised her by pulling back. “I’m glad I had to prove myself. It forced me to confront my actions, to recognize I had let myself down as well. Bobcat, if you give me a chance, I swear I’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to you.”
“The rest of our lives?” A lump formed in her throat. “Are you saying you want to get married?”
His eyes searched hers. “It’s no secret that I’d elope with you right this very moment. But I want what you want, so tell me.”
She swallowed hard, insecurity raising its ugly head. But this was not the time to deal in half-truths, or to be held back by fear. Too much was at stake. She owed it to herself to be honest with her wants. If it was meant to be, then their wants would match.
