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Landry turned serious. “I quit my job. I’ve got some money saved, though. But at this moment, I have no plans for the future.” He grinned again. “Except one.”
Willa held her breath and thought about the painting on her easel inside the house. She hadn’t painted since she left Cape Diablo. Until this morning.
On her easel now was a painting of a two-story white house, a tire swing in the big tree next to it, an assortment of toys scattered across the green lawn. There were red-and-white gingham curtains at the kitchen window and a man and woman sitting together on the front porch swing. They were faceless, the painting not yet finished.
“Willa,” Landry said, and swallowed.
She’d never seen him nervous before.
“I know the timing is awful. Why would you want to marry a former undercover cop, let alone one who is jobless and isn’t even sure what he’s going to do now?”
“Landry,” she said, smiling up into his wonderfully handsome face. “Is there something you wanted to ask me?”
He laughed. “Oh, yeah, darlin’. Would you consider being my wife? I love you. I need you. I don’t care what tomorrow brings as long as I’m with you.” He dropped to one knee. “Marry me, Willa St. Clair.”
She laughed as she cupped his face in her hands and leaned down to kiss that amazing mouth.
“Was that a yes?” he asked as she pulled back from the kiss.
“No,” she said as she drew him to his feet, wrapped her arms around his neck and started to kiss him again. “This, my love, is a yes.”
* * * * *
When deputy marshal Brick Savage asks detective Maureen Mortensen for help with a case, it’s a deal they may not live long enough to regret…
