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“Are you about to lock me in my car?” She took a miniature step back.
“Does this mean you’re not going to bring me up on charges?”
“Charges?”
“Assault. Coercion. Anything. What I did was so wrong.” His eyes were boring into hers again.
She laughed but let it die when he didn’t join her in mirth.
“What are you talking about, Grant? Were you not in the same room with me? I started it, both times! Did I not seem like I was enjoying myself?” Did he think every element of their encounters was fake?
“No!” he said. “You seemed perfect. But maybe...maybe you did that because you were trying to save your skin. From a monster. From me.” Grant looked like he was about to vomit. “You brought me here today, but I don’t know why. I know I sound crazy. I just hope you can understand how sorry I am for what I did.”
“Grant, do you really think I could profess my love for someone I feared? I know some people can, but I’m not one of them. No, I’m not bringing you up on charges. I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you.”
Grant said nothing.
Melinda held her breath, then gasped as Grant dropped to the floor in front of her. He wrapped both arms around her waist and crossed them against her back. His forehead pressed hard against the silk of her dress.
“Grant?”
He didn’t move.
“Grant? Talk to me. Was it too much? I understand if you’re—”
Melinda squeaked as her legs were swept from beneath her. She caught air for a split second and then landed solidly in Grant’s arms.
~
Grant clutched Malina to his chest, one arm beneath her knees, the other around her torso. If he kissed her now he’d topple over. Romantic hero stuff sure is awkward. No one tells you this.
Malina’s eyes were huge. His would be, too, he supposed, if someone swept his legs from beneath him and bear-hugged him in the kitchen. Time to make his intentions clear.
Grant settled Malina on his lap and stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. Her face turned almost imperceptibly in toward his caress and he felt like beating his chest in victory. Tone it down. Plenty of time to go caveman.
“Malina,” he said. “I’ve thought of you and nothing but you for the last twenty days and six hours.” Something sparkled in her eyes and hope soared in his chest. “I love you. I’m fascinated by you. I think you’re incredible. I can’t stand to be away from you. All I’ve done is imagine what it would be like if you showed up at my house, or if I showed up at yours. Or if we lived in the same house.” He drew in a deep breath.
Time to say it.
“Or if you were my wife. Malina, would you consider becoming my wife?”
For once his mind seemed to agree with him and miraculously stayed silent.
“But...you barely know me.” His heart sank.
Sure, she was right, but this was no time for entertaining the truth.
“Yes,” he said. “But I also truly know you.”
Tears sprang to her eyes; a good sign, right?
“Do you feel this thing between us like I feel it?” he asked. “Please tell me you do.” Oh good, now he was begging.
But she nodded and he didn’t hesitate.
“Then be with me,” he said. Grant held her with a tenth of the ardor he actually felt, trying not to scare her. “Be with me. At my home, or your home, or at a new home. Write in an office of your choosing. We’ll build you a bigger kitchen, and you can install a ropes course leading up to the oven.”
By now she was laughing as well as crying, and Grant was smiling. Hope inflated his chest like a hot air balloon. Soon enough he would launch into space.
