“And I’ll be staring at sixty,” he reminded her.
“It’s not the same for guys.”
“Maybe for some guys it isn’t, but all I’ve been thinking about for the past few months is how much time we’ve wasted, Maggie.” He pried her hand from her lap, dislodging the fabric she’d worried into a nubbin. “Jesus,
Mags
, all I can think about is how I spent the last decade and a half running away from you when I should have been running away
with
you.”
She fixed him with a level stare. “Easy for you to say now.”
“No. No, it’s not easy. Saying these things scares the shit out of me. Asking you to marry me…” Tom took a deep breath and snapped the taut line of tension strung between them. “I make a living asking questions, but tonight I popped the one I thought I never would, and you shot me down.”
“I had to.”
“Why? Why do you think you had to?”
When she didn’t answer, he slid closer, pulling her hand to his chest and holding it captive until she met his gaze. His palms warmed her chilled fingers. His heartbeat strummed slow and steady against her knuckles. “You’re sad, Tom. I get that. Your mom is gone and now you’re feeling guilty—”
“You think this is a guilt proposal? You think I’m asking you to marry me to make up with my mother somehow?”
“I think you want to try to make things right.”
“I never said things were wrong,” he argued.
“You know what I mean.”
“I think I do, but I’m a little freaked out that you think I’m that Oedipal.” He shook his head and squeezed her fingers. “Maggie, this proposal had nothing to do with my mother.”
“Tom, your whole outlook on marriage and family is colored by your mother.”
“Aren’t everyone’s ideas on marriage shaped by their parents? Doesn’t mean I don’t see things clearly.”
Maggie bobbed her head. “A little too clearly sometimes.”
He blew out a huff of exasperation. “When did this become about them? This is about us. I love you, Maggie. I want to marry you. I want us to be a family. You, me, our baby, our cat.”
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I am too.”
“I need—” Maggie dropped her gaze to the gentle swell of her belly. “I couldn’t stand it if you decided you couldn’t handle….”
“I couldn’t either.” The catch in his voice captured her attention. She looked up and found his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I won’t leave you, Maggie. Don’t you know I couldn’t?”
She knew. He would never leave her. He’d never leave their child. There would never be another little Sullivan wondering why his father didn’t love him or want him enough. She knew that as sure as she knew her own name. She just didn’t know if she could give up that name in the hopes that he’d be as committed to her as he would be to their baby.
“A year,” she whispered.
“What?”
Rubbing her damp palms over her belly, Maggie tipped her chin up to meet his gaze. “Give me a year,” she said, her voice growing stronger with each word.
“A year to what?”
Maggie bobbed her head in a decisive nod. “One year from the day the baby is born. If you still want me, ask me again on her first birthday.”
“First birthday? A year
after
he’s born? Don’t you want to get married before?”
She cocked an eyebrow and chose to ignore his blatant pronoun misuse. “You’re not getting all old-fashioned on me now, are you, Sully?”
His mouth opened and closed like a fish. She grinned, basking in the pleasure of his flummoxed expression. “A year,” he repeated, his lips thinning into a line of dissatisfaction.
“If you still want me after a year,” she confirmed.
Tom looked up, a self-deprecating smile flirting with the corners of his mouth. “You say that like I have a choice, Maggie.” Raising her hand to his lips, he brushed a kiss across her knuckles and closed his eyes. “Don’t you get it?”
“Get what?”
He pressed the back of her hand to his close-shaven cheek. His lashes fluttered as he nuzzled her fingers. “I need you so much more than I want you,” he said, his voice softly compelling. “And Maggie, I’m going to want you forever.”
Her sharp intake of breath spawned a glimmer of a smile. “Tom….”
He kissed her ring finger then rubbed the spot with the pad of his thumb. “Do you at least want to wear the ring?”
Maggie shook her head. “No.”
“No?”
“No.”
The skeptical lift of his eyebrows collapsed into a furrow of confusion. “You didn’t like it?”
“I loved it. It was perfect.”
“Then why don’t you want to wear it?”
“And give you a head start on wearing
me
down? No, thank you. I know how you work, Counselor.”
His boyish grin lit his eyes. “You’ll never last another fifteen months,
Mags
.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Try me, Sully.” The deep, rumbling laugh that gathered in his chest and erupted into the empty hall made her toes curl in anticipation. A shiver raced down her spine when his warm hand closed over her cool toes.
“I intend to, Ms. McCann. I intend to be a trial to you every day until you cave.” He pressed his thumb into the arch of her foot then rubbed gently, working toward her toes. Maggie let her head fall back, surrendering to his touch with a grateful purr.
She didn’t bother opening her eyes. She couldn’t stop the smile that curved her lips. “
Mmm
.”
“Ready to go home?” he asked softly.
Maggie snorted. Somehow she’d just acquired another roommate without her consent, but at least this one didn’t tear her ankles to shreds. This one worked the achiness from the balls of her swollen feet. “Mm hmm.” She groaned her disappointment when he let go. Mustering super-human effort, she peeped at him through cracked eyelids. “Carry me?”
Tom chuckled. “I could try.”
Something cool and unyielding nudged her foot. Forcing her eyes open, Maggie gasped when she spotted the shiny black pump cradled in the palm of his hand. Warm fingers closed around her puffy ankle. He caught his bottom lip between white teeth as he guided her foot into the stiff leather. His eyebrows knit in concentration. The cowlick stood straight up on his crown.
“Or, we could see if these still fit and catch a cab. What do you say?”
Maggie nodded and wriggled her toes into the high-heeled slipper. Just like Tom, they were a perfect fit. Her Prince Charming helped her to her feet, enfolding her in his warm embrace in one smooth move. She smiled as together they found their balance. That’s when she realized it didn’t matter whether she wore his ring or not or if they put the baby carriage before the marriage, she was already living the happily ever after she’d dreamed about for so long.
Epilogue
Maggie brushed soft kisses to the tuft of downy hair atop
Finbar
Angelini
McCann-Sullivan’s head. “See, this is what happens, Finn,” she murmured into the feathery cockscomb that stood on end at his crown. “First, the eyesight goes, then they start ranting about capital gains taxes and voting Republican.”
Tom shot a glare out of the corner of his eye but kept his mouth clamped shut. He nodded, bobbing his head as if the caller on the other end could see his enthusiastic agreement. “Yes, yes. That should work perfectly,” he assured the other party. “We’ll see you at four-thirty this afternoon. Thank you, Your Honor. Thank you so much.”
She raised an eyebrow as he ended the call to Judge
Moseby
and immediately started dialing again. “I still haven’t agreed to this.”
The reminder had little effect on the man standing in front of her. As a matter of fact, he ignored it entirely. Flattening his son’s cowlick with one finger, he simply smiled when she batted his hand away.
“The hearing is the next thing to fail,” she whispered to the baby sotto-voice. “Then they start having trouble in other areas, if you know what I mean.”
“He doesn’t, and I obviously don’t either,” he countered, pressing the phone to his ear. “Hey, it’s me. Can you shake free this afternoon? Actually, we’ll need both you and Tracy. The kids and George can come too, if they want.”
Shaking her head, Maggie stretched her arms, raising Finn above her head so she could beam up at him. “Then even the wildest of wild men start turning all traditional and conservative. That’s what’s happening to your Pop.”
She glanced up to see Tom waving a dismissive hand. “I know, I know, it’s last minute.” He locked gazes with Maggie, a smug smile twitching his lips. “Can you make it to the courthouse?” He bent at the waist, holding her steady gaze as he smooched Finn’s chubby cheek. “I need a Best Man and
Mags
could use a Matron of Honor.”
Angling for the phone she called out, “I didn’t agree to this plan, Sean.”
“She’s pregnant,” Tom added, raising an imperious eyebrow as he upped the ante.
She leaned in closer. “But I’ve figured out what causes that now, and it won’t be happening again.”
“We’re not having another hyphenated kid.”
Maggie
tsked
for the benefit of their audience. “Your brother is a sex maniac. Molesting a sweet, innocent new mother like me….”
Tom waved her away, pressing the phone to his ear. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Lecture me later. Just be there at four-thirty.” Tom held the key to disconnect, huffed, and tossed the phone onto the couch cushion.
Catching her chin in his hand, he dropped to one knee in front of her. “We’re getting married today, Maggie.” Fred took the opportunity to insinuate himself into the family portrait, wedging his portly body into the space between the couch and his mistresses’ calves. Tom’s one-time ally fixed him with an unwavering glare. “This afternoon, at four-thirty, in Judge
Moseby’s
chambers, we’re going to make this official. Got me? You, me, Finn, Fred, and whoever else we’ve cooked up in there.”
He pressed his lips to hers in brisk, efficient kiss that sizzled with restrained passion. Instinctively, she leaned into him, aching for more even though her lust for more was what got her into this predicament in the first place. His blue eyes danced with pleasure. His sunny smile was edged with triumph and his deep voice rumbled rough with emotion. That was the only thing that kept her from slapping him down.
“Make whatever calls you want to make. Buy yourself a new dress if you want. Your fate was sealed the minute the strip turned blue.”
“He’s only four months old. We were supposed to wait a year.”
“Says who?”
“Says, uh, me.”
“I say I love you, Maggie. I love you, I love our baby, I love our cramped apartment, and our fat cat, but I’m done waiting.” He plucked the burbling infant from her arms and held Finn to his shoulder facing her, unabashedly using his progeny as a means to an end. “We love you, Mommy Maggie, but now it’s time for you to make honest men out of us.”
Maggie blinked back a rush of tears. “You think?”
Tom snatched the plastic stick from his shirt pocket and waved the positive pregnancy test in front of her eyes. “I know. It’s time to make us official,
Mags
. There’s no getting away from me now. Not when I know how good we are at this.”
She grinned at the baby gleefully drooling on his daddy’s shirt. “We are good at it, aren’t we?”
His stare was stern, his tone no-nonsense, and his smile irrepressible. “I want a girl this time.”
“Hey, that’s your gig, not mine.”
“I want her to have red hair and green eyes and exactly seventeen freckles on the bridge of her nose.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she conceded, suddenly breathless. “You really want to do this?”
“Want to. Need to.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Need you. I want you forever, Maggie McCann. You, our kids, Fred, and whoever else we can throw into this crazy mix of us.” He kissed her sweetly then captured the tiny fist that flailed at her jaw. After pressing another kiss to Finn’s dimpled knuckles, he hit her between the eyes with that naughty boy grin. “Say yes, Maggie. Everything else…we’ll work things out. Just say yes.”
Helpless to resist, she whispered, “Yes.”