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It was a good thing she was sitting; Murphy's felt abruptly dizzy, her knees too watery to support her weight. Her mind raced.
Had she heard him correctly? Had Garrett just proposed to her? He had! And this time a refusal was not the reply that sprang to mind.
A lump formed in her throat, and she felt her eyes sting—neither reaction could be traced to the lingering scent of roses and she knew it.
“Well?” he asked anxiously when she didn't respond, but sat there staring up at him, her green eyes wide and stunned. “I'll warn you, being a cop's wife is no picnic. My hours are strange, my job is dangerous—well, sometimes; guess I lied to you about that. Being a cop's wife is scary and frustrating…or so I've been told repeatedly by my partner's wife. You need to know all this up front, before you give me an answer.”
“Right,” she said, dazed.
Moonshine had curled up in a ball atop her lap; with her free hand, trembling fingers stroked his tummy. The cat purred loudly, as though to let her know he was highly amused by what was going on around him.
Murphy's grip on the ring tightened. A corner of the diamond bit into her palm. It was not an unpleasant feeling. “You barely know me, Garrett,” she said once she trusted her voice to speak.
“I knew you intimately two hours ago.”
“That's not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant. Time-wise, we haven't known each other long,” he said as he buried his fingers in her hair and pulled her temptingly close. Their mouths were a fraction of an inch apart; close enough to feel the heat of his lips against hers. “I feel like I've known you all my life.”
Murphy couldn't argue with that. She'd felt the same…well, almost since Garrett had regained consciousness back in Dana's bed. Definitely since she'd decided to trust him and believe his story about being a cop, and not the thief she'd originally suspected.
A bond had been forged between them. Maybe it was the product of two people living through a desperate situation, but she didn't think so. If it had been, in the last three weeks she may have been touched occasionally by concern, however that couldn't explain why her thoughts had rarely drifted from the way Garrett's eyes sparkled when he smiled, the way one corner of his mouth quirked up when he grinned, the way…
I love him.
The realization hit Murphy with enough force to push the air from her lungs and make her heartbeat stammer. When had it happened? She didn't know, didn't care. Whatever the timing, the fact remained; crazy as it was, she did love him. She loved him very much.
Only now did she suspect that the first seeds of love had been planted the moment she'd thought about driving away that day three weeks ago, only to realize she couldn't leave him. It had started then…and in the hours, then weeks, that followed her feelings for him had blossomed. Instead of fading, they'd been made more pronounced by separation.
It was a separation Murphy couldn't bare to think about enduring again. Her life had been empty without Garrett Thayer to fill it. Her life would continue to be empty unless she took a chance right now and listened to her heart.
Her trembling fingers slowly uncurled from around the ring. Removing it from the bed of her palm, she stared at it, contemplating briefly all the feelings and responsibility this small, solitary piece of jewelry represented.
Her insides felt warm and tight in a way they never had before.
She hesitated, swallowed hard…then slipped the ring onto the third finger of her left hand.
Unlike the diamond itself, the fit wasn't flawless. The ring was a bit large. Yet the acceptance of Garrett's proposal and the sudden, overwhelming desire to spend the rest of her life with this man couldn't have fit Murphy better.
Garrett's smile lit up the room. He hauled her so closely against him that she wondered if he was trying to melt her body into his. If so, she wouldn't utter a word of protest.
“God I love you, Murphy. I'll make you happy. I promise I will,” he whispered as he buried his face in her hair.
“That's one promise I'll hold you to,” she said on a contented sigh, her voice as thick with emotion as his.
Moonshine meowed. Murphy thought that if cats could talk—and this one certainly had his own way of communicating—this meow meant that if Garrett didn't uphold his promise, he'd have one angry feline to answer to. Which reminded her…
“Garrett?”
“Hmmm?”
“You're allergic to cats.”
“I know.”
“That's a problem.”
“It is?”
