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His eyes widened.
Kate laughed. “Why so surprised? I told you I’d marry you, Jude McMillan.”
“I still haven’t properly proposed, Kate Stockman. I did promise to sweep you off your feet, if you’ll recall.”
“You do.” She kissed him again. “Every single second of the day.”
“But this is different. We haven’t made anything official yet.”
“We’ve already been discussing an engagement party, Jude. Forgone conclusion and all that, right? I don’t need rose petals on the bed and candles burning and seductive music playing when you pop the question… All I need is you.”
“Kate—”
“You do recognize that you haven’t made one single protest about me wanting to adopt Sophie?” she queried. “I didn’t even have to tell you my thoughts on it—you instantly knew what jumped into my head the moment we heard Isabelle didn’t survive her surgeries. I never made a promise to that woman that I’d look after her child if something this horrific happened to her, but I feel very strongly that she knew, deep in her heart, that I’d step in. That gave her peace of mind. You didn’t question my desire to give it to her—or to help Sophie. You didn’t say a word, Jude, other than to tell me you’d figure it all out for us.”
Tears welled in Kate’s eyes.
Jude whisked away the few that tumbled down her cheeks.
“You will give me everything I want,” she continued. “I’ll never doubt that. But what I want is also what you want, Jude. I didn’t fully realize it until this week. The marriage, the family, the traditions… They won’t all be conventional, but they will be spectacular.”
He set aside his cocktail, cupped the sides of her face and stared deep into her misty eyes. “I will marry you this morning, Kate. We can fill out the application online, right now. I’ll arrange for a judicial waiver so we don’t have to wait out the twenty-four hour period. All we have to do is arrive onsite, sign the license, have an officiant complete the ceremony, which I will also arrange, and then file when we’re official. Piece of cake.”
“I love that you know people,” she murmured.
“I love that you want to marry me.”
“I do,” she assured him. Then laughed at her choice of words. “We’ll be hearing that a lot today, apparently.”
“I only care that it’s coming from you,” he said with all honesty.
“Jude…” She drew in a long breath. Let it out slowly. “You understand we can’t share this with anyone else today, either. Will you be okay with that? I absolutely cannot steal Charlotte’s thunder.”
“Kate…” His lips pressed to hers. Then he said, “The fact that I’m about to jump out of my skin over you wanting to marry me as soon as we land tells me all the pomp and circumstance means nothing in comparison to us agreeing right now to commit ourselves to each other.”
“There is something incredibly exhilarating about spontaneity,” she confessed. “Especially when it feels so perfect, when we both know we were headed in this direction anyway, so why the hell should we drag our feet any longer?”
“Exactly. Except… Fuck!” he grumbled under his breath.
Kate’s brow crooked. “You do still want to marry me, correct?” she cautiously ventured.
Jude chuckled. “Never doubt that, babe.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Because, clearly he’d thought of one.
“I don’t have a ring for you. Or for me, for that matter. It wasn’t like I was going to haul them around Afghanistan, and Lord only knew where else we were headed when we left Manhattan seven months ago.”
“Oh, is that all?” She winked. “Little thing called personal shoppers, my love. While you work out the marriage license, I’ll surf Tiffany’s website and have the rings delivered.”
His gaze narrowed on her. “That’s not me surprising you with a huge rock on bended knee, Kate.”
She kissed him again, then said, “That’s me picking out the huge rock that will look fabulous on my finger. And who says you can’t propose on bended knee once it’s in our possession? We make our own rules, remember?”
“Hmm, to an extent.”
“Yes, that’s true. But this is a very definitive case of the heart wanting what the heart wants—with City Hall, Tiffany’s and a judicial waiver giving it all to us. Thank God Denny and Charlotte chose to get married on a weekday!”
“I’ll drink to that.”
