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He held his arms open to her, and she went to him, resting her head against his chest as he closed them around her. “We have all the time in the world to decide what we want to do.”
She nodded.
“I do have one question though.”
“What?”
“Before we have children, I want us to be married.”
Her heart started to race.
“Do you want that?”
She nodded against his chest.
He landed a kiss in the middle of her forehead. “And would you want to get married here, in this house?” He took hold of her hand and led her to the patio doors. The terrace was huge, set in front of that amazing view of the valley.
She looked up at him and smiled. “Yes.”
“Okay, then. Let’s see the rest of it and then we can walk the vines.”
“We haven’t done that since we were kids.”
“I know. I haven’t done it since I’ve been back here. It feels right to do it now. This place, you and me.” He shrugged. “It’s like we’re marking the beginning of the next chapter.”
Chapter Fourteen
Molly stood at the servers’ station rolling cutlery. The lunchtime rush was over, and she was about ready to take her break. She was worn out, but then she’d been feeling that way all week. She’d had another couple of episodes with that awful dizziness and nausea, but luckily Marcos hadn’t witnessed it—so she hadn’t mentioned it. It was only some kind of stomach bug; it’d pass soon enough. She didn’t want him worrying or making her go to the doctor.
She looked up as the front door opened and smiled when Chelsea came in.
“Hey, girlfriend. I wondered if I’d find you here.”
Molly laughed. “Where else would you find me? I’m always here.”
“I used to think so, but whenever I come in these days, I’m just as likely to see Grady as I am to see you.”
Molly smiled. “I seem to remember you being the head cheerleader who wanted me to get out more and have a life.
Chelsea grinned. “I know. It’s awesome, and the best part is that you’re back with Marcos.”
Molly smiled. “It is kind of wonderful.”
“He’s all kinds of wonderful, and that’s what I want to talk to you about. Can you take a break? Have a chat with me?”
“Sure. What do you want to drink?”
“Just an orange juice.”
“Okay. Have you eaten?”
“Yeah. I’m fine, but have you?”
Molly shook her head. “No. Let me go and ask Darren to make me a sandwich, and I’ll be right back with our drinks.”
When she came back out of the kitchen, Chelsea had taken a seat in a corner booth—which made Molly feel like this was some kind of clandestine meeting.
“What’s up?” she asked as she slid in opposite her.
