“Can’t a man be proud of a woman’s accomplishments?”
“He can, butyoutake it rather far. Even sweet Olive has promised to stop visiting until you swear not to thrust the scrapbook under her nose.”
“I don’t do it just to her,” he protested. “Everyone has to see it.”
She pushed off the floor and joined him on the chaise. She pressed into his side, slipping an arm over his shoulders to play with the hair at his nape. “I know, darling, and I adore you for it.”
In the last year, Mack had proven, over and over again, how proud he was of her writing career. No one—least of all her—could doubt his support. It was quite literally written on the walls of the office.
“Besides, this one isn’t going in the scrapbook,” he continued, leaning into her touch.
“It isn’t?”
“I’m framing it and putting it in the foyer. Visitors won’t be able to miss it when they step foot in the front door.”
She groaned. “You might not have any visitors before long.”
“Fewer people to interrupt us when you come to visit? Sounds good to me.”
Her hand paused in his hair, and her lips pursed. That was just it; she was tired of visiting. Her plans for the evening came rushing back, and she had to resist smacking herself in the forehead. She pulled Mack’s pocket watch free and checked the time. The evening hadn’t been ruined yet, but she had better begin soon, or they would miss their reservation.
“All right, Winnie,” she said under her breath, tucking his watch away. “It’s time.”
“Are you giving yourself a motivational speech again?”
She clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap. “I am.”
He looked at her curiously. “Good lord, you’re nervous. Would another martini help?”
“Probably, but I better not. I don’t want you to think my judgment is clouded, because it isn’t. I have thought long and hard about this, and my mind is made up.”
He eyed her over the rim of his martini glass. “Do tell.”
“I’m ready for the next step.”
“What, a national syndication?”
“I’m not talking about writing.” Before she could lose her nerve, she slid from the chaise and knelt on the floor at Mack’s feet.
His eyes widened, and his gaze darted to the door. “Give me just a moment to close the door, sweetheart. Then you can have your way with me.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “No, you insatiable lecher. That’s not it.”
“Then what?”
Mack’s mystification wasn’t a surprise. She had put him off for so long he had probably stopped believing the day would come. Good thing she loved proving him wrong. Gaining control of herself, she grasped his hands in hers.
“The next step,” she repeated.
Mack stilled at her serious tone. “What step are you referring to?”
“Darling, the last year with you has been beyond my wildest dreams.” Her voice wobbled with emotion, and she didn’t miss the wistful yearning that flicked across his face. “When I moved to Seattle, the last thing I expected to find was love. But there you were.”
A faint flush rose to Mack’s cheeks. Good. He deserved to be wooed.
“Your devotion blindsided me, but I needed time to understand you only wanted me to be myself. And you gave it to me, with unfailing patience and kindness. Words are my life, but I find it difficult to express how thankful I am for you. How eager I am to spend every waking moment with you. How thrilled I am to know you’re mine. I never want it to end.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she pressed a finger to his lips. “I think you know what I’m going to ask. But before you answer, you should know I have some conditions.”
