Page 100 of Don’t Go Stealing My Heart

She tried to glare at him, but it looked more like a cute nose twitch.

When she finally stepped toward the driver door, his heart hitched. If this was too soon, if he set her therapy back, he’d be furious with himself. But Lucien and Yevgen’s trials were on the horizon. Clementine was the key witness. He wanted her to know, beyond a doubt, that he was here to stay.

The door groaned as she opened it, the Firebird one mile shy of pushing up daisies. She glanced through the busted window. “There appears to be a gift inside my gift.”

Jack rubbed the back of his damp neck. “No clue how that got in there.”

She shot him a playful look. “Likely story.”

She eased into the driver seat, ran her hand over the dusty dash and whistled, then mumbled something he couldn’t hear. Cursing him for another gift? If that was the case, she’d be livid over that box.

She lifted the parcel tentatively and gave it a shake. “Nothing growled, so that’s a good sign.”

“Maggots don’t growl,” he said.

“Rats galore,” she shot back and ripped the wrapping.

He held his breath. Last time he’d been this nervous, he’d been teaching Clementine to swim. He’d stood at the pool edge, three lifejackets at the ready, that stupid song about her name always in the back of his mind.

She tossed the paper and bow onto the passenger seat, then worked the lid off the box…and screamed.

Not the reaction he’d wanted.

He rushed over and fell to his knees. “Don’t freak out.”

“I’m freaking out.”

“Okay. You can freak out, but only because you’re unbelievably excited to be my wife and spend the rest of your life waking up next to me.”

Her answering whimper was less distressing than her scream. She lifted the chocolate diamond wedding ring from the box. It shook in her grasp. “How can you love me this much?”

“Because I do.” There was no describing the indescribable obsession of love. It was a rainbow on a sunny day, the tiny hairs on your neck that announced a premonition. Love was everything you needed and nothing you didn’t.

It was Clementine Abernathy, cat burglar, who’d stolen his heart.

“God, Jack—are you sure?”

He took his grandmother’s ring from her hand and held it at the tip of her finger. “I want you forever, Clementine. I want to grow old with you and love you and fight with you so we can make up and do it all over again. I want to sing to you always and do that thing you like with my tongue.” Her watery laugh spurred him on. “I want us, baby. I want you to be my wife.”

She sniffled, her fingers shaking in his grasp. She didn’t reply.

“Clementine? Are you unsure?”

“I’m overwhelmed.”

An emotion he wished she didn’t still feel with him. At a loss, he said, “I know the ring isn’t traditional, but it was my grandmother’s. It matches the necklace I gave you.” The one she’d worried about while bleeding on his floor. “My mother’s thrilled for you to wear it.”

“She approves of this…of me?”

If Clementine only knew. “She cried when I told her and is already listing venues.”

His mother had cried a lot since losing Dad, these particular tears both happy and sad. Maxwell wouldn’t be here for his son’s wedding, or the milestones afterward. A fact Jack still struggled with, and Clementine’s worries weren’t hers alone.

After his mother had regained her composure, Jack had said, “Do you think Dad would approve?”

Maxwell’s first instinct after the shooting had been to warn Jack away from Clementine. Advice he had happily ignored. His father had come around eventually, even calling Clementine “his girl” often. “How’s my girl today?” had become his standard greeting for her.

Jack had immediately regretted asking his mother about Maxwell’s approval, feeling like he’d betrayed Clementine.