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Nicole grinned. “That’s true, though there are dynamics I don’t want to repeat from my own family.”
“Such as the different ways your parents treated you and Emily?”
She nodded. “That’s one of them.”
Jordan made a face. “Me, either. We should talk about that as we go along, track each other, help each other be good parents. We can even talk to child psychologists for guidance if it seems advisable, though I’m sure we’ll still make mistakes.”
Nicole cocked her head. “I wonder if perfect parents make boring kids.”
He chuckled. “I don’t think we have to worry about boring children. We just have to hope that when we’re old and gray they won’t publish a memoir about our mistakes and that they’ll visit with the grandkids. That’s when we’ll get really boring, except I’ll still be chasing you around, leaning on my walker as you hobble away on your bad knee.”
It was a strangely sweet image.
But mostly it was bizarre to be talking about this with Jordan. No matter how much she loved him, it hadn’t seemed possible that he’d want any of it. Her abortive engagement had been the final straw, the wound convincing her that when it came to romance, she’d always be nothing more than a shallow cover girl to the men she met.
* * *
THE UNCERTAINTY ON Nicole’s face made Jordan ache. She had no particular reason to trust him. After all, his plan for permanent bachelorhood was common knowledge; he had only himself to thank for that since he’d put it into his column on a regular basis.
Would she reject him? She’d implied she had feelings for him but hadn’t actually said the words outright.
“You realize that it’s okay to show if you’re upset or sad, angry or whatever,” he said, trying not to sound desperate. “I’ve seen how you try to keep what you’re feeling inside, maybe because you always had to project a certain facade as a model.”
“After a lifetime of practice, I’m not sure I can change that much.”
“Then I’ll have to look for subtle signs and hope you have mercy on me when I guess wrong. But I also need to be clear about something. I fell in love with the real Nicole, not the image on a magazine cover. I fell for the woman digging in her garden with dirt and perspiration on her face. I’m crazy about the person who determinedly painted her living and dining rooms, even though she could have hired someone else to do it for her. I get choked up when I think about how much you hate turning someone down who needs encouragement.”
She was silent, staring away from him, across the water. With all his might he wanted to grab her and hold her and never let go. But he couldn’t get what he hoped for that way. It had to be a gift.
“So, can you love me back, Nicole? With all my faults and missteps? God knows, I’m a long way from perfect.”
“Yes,” she said softly.
* * *
NICOLE FELT AS if she’d thrown everything she had into the pot. If this fell apart, she’d find out if hearts really could break.
“I love you more than life,” Jordan promised and she didn’t doubt he was telling the truth. “Will you marry me? Will you love me through mistakes and dirty diapers and the kids squabbling? Will you love me when I can’t sail this boat any longer because arthritis won’t let me hold the tiller? Will you still love me when our hair is gray and we’re waiting at the hospital for news that might mean a daunting challenge for us both?”
“Those things don’t frighten me. Well, not much.” It was mostly the thought of facing them alone that made Nicole shiver.
He smiled. “We’d be idiots if it wasn’t scary. And foolish, too, to think it’ll be easy. There’s a reason that wedding vows include a promise to be there in sickness and in health, for better and for worse.”
“As you said, there aren’t any guarantees.”
“But it helps when two people love each other and share the load.”
The evening breeze blew from behind her, as if pushing in Jordan’s direction. Silly, since it could also be seen as pushing him away. The thing that would bring and keep bringing them together was what Jordan was offering—love and genuine commitment.
