— TWENTY-FIVE —
JANUARY brought a change of pace for everyone. Miriam was visiting her friend in Florida. Eric started skating lessons. Zander and Dean started their business plans in earnest, with both of them planning to be at it full-time by the fall.
And Faith was on deadline again. She’d warned him about it, but the last time she’d been finishing a book, he’d just left her and they were only talking once a day or so. Somehow he’d missed the fact that she literally holed herself up in her office every waking second that she wasn’t being Mom.
He’d woken up at six that morning to a cold bed. He went downstairs and made coffee. He poured himself a cup and left it on the counter, because he’d be back in a minute to make breakfast. Back upstairs, he knocked on her office door.
“Mmmm.”
He pushed the door open. She had a “Faith only” rule for her office that he respected most of the time, but when she hadn’t slept much and he was bringing coffee, it was a pretty safe violation to make.
He quietly set the cup on the coaster to the left of her keyboard, then stood behind her chair until she sighed and looked up. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
He shook his head as he stroked his hands over her neck and shoulders, loosening up the tension there for a minute before he left her alone again. “Nope. Just woke up and wanted coffee. Thought I’d make you some too.”
“Thank you.” She tipped her face up to give him an absent-minded kiss. “Might finish today.”
Miriam had warned him that she’d say that at least five or six days in a row before it was actually true. But then again, Faith’s mother had scampered off to Florida after the Christmas holidays, leaving Zander to truly discover the craziness that was Writer Faith at her apex all on his own.
Not that he minded at all. She was unbelievably cute when she wandered into bed, all bleary-eyed and bonelessly exhausted. And that was balanced out by her S.O.S. text messages when she needed choreography help on the action scenes, which he never tired of helping with.
Same with the sex scenes.
Living with a writer had some definite perks.
When Eric woke up, Zander gave him a cup of milk and two small bowls, sugar and cinnamon.
“Thought today might be a good day to make that pie for your mom that we talked about,” Zander said. “You mix those together while I cut the apples, okay?”
“There’s dough, right? Can I roll that?”
“Sure thing, bud.”
They worked well together, and Eric didn’t complain too much when Zander reminded him that a good baker always did his dishes while the pie was in the oven. While that was baking, he cooked a dozen hard-boiled eggs and sautéed some mushrooms, garlic and green pepper.
The smells must have finally wafted under her office door, because just as the pie was coming out of the oven, he heard her pad into their bedroom and turn on the shower. Ten minutes later she strolled in wearing today’s version of her writing uniform, yoga pants and a goofy t-shirt. This one had a picture of a T-Rex drinking from an oversized wine glass. Wine-o-saur. Cute.
“What on Earth are you guys making?”
“Pie,” Eric proudly announced. “For you.”
Faith’s eyebrows shot up and she gave Zander an appraising look that made him flex his shoulders. “You baked this?”
“With some help from Eric, I did indeed. My mother taught us all how to bake. I’ve worn an apron and wielded a wooden spoon since before I could talk.”
“Wow, I’m impressed.” She narrowed her eyes. “And I’m wondering why we’ve always gone to Greta’s for pie if you can make it?”
He pulled her close and kissed her nose. She knew why he liked taking her to Greta’s. “I love you.”
She grinned at him. “And I love apple pie.”
“Argh,” he cried, grabbing his chest before he winked at her. “That’s why I made it for you. Love my pie, love me.”
“Of course.” She looped her arms around his neck. “I love you with all my heart. It’s just that pie has this extra-special place in my heart.”
“Oh yeah?” His pulse grew heavy. He knew this feeling. Anticipation. Fear that the anticipation might not be met.
But she’d proven to him over and over again that he had no reason to fear her commitment to him. Her loyalty.
Her love.
Even when she was terrified herself, she found a way to fight for them, and she always would. That’s why he baked her this pie—to say, we’ve had each other from the very first moment we met.
And that’s why he’d gone ring shopping.
His entire body warmed, a heady excitement flooding his limbs as his heart swelled in his chest.
“How long until pie?” Eric asked, totally uninterested in the fact his mom was being wooed.
“It has to cool,” Zander said. “Let your mom have her breakfast first, and then we can have celebratory pie after that, deal?”
Eric gave him a thumbs up. “Deal. Can I go play?”
Zander and Faith nodded at the same time, which made her laugh.
She kissed his jaw once they were alone. “I meant what I said about the pie. I met the man of my dreams over a slice of pie. He taught me about katanas and sawed-off shotguns. He makes my kid breakfast and plays the big-bad enforcer on not eating sugar until at least second breakfast and preferably elevensies. And most importantly, he taught me that life was for living.”
He caught her lips with his own, kissing her until she was breathless. “And not for living alone anymore, right?”
She grinned. “Right.”
“I’ve been thinking…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t say it quite right last time.”
“What?”
“I love you.”
“Oh, I like it anyway you say it.” She winked at him and he picked her up and swung her around. He needed a bit of space to do this right.
Setting her in the middle of the kitchen, he took a deep breath and looked her right in the eye. “I-way ove-lay ou-yay.”
There. That pink-cheeked, lips-parted, talk-dirty-geek-to-me look. That’s what he wanted. Her gaze softened to a sexy doe-eyed look that made him want to sweep her off to bed and keep whispering things in Pig Latin, and they’d get to that once her book was done and their kid was asleep for the night, but the next thing needed to be said here.
On bended knee.
She gasped and pressed one hand to her chest as he lowered himself to the floor. “Zander,” she whispered. “You’re crazy.”
“Razy-cay or-fay ou-yay,” he murmured back, taking her other hand. “O-say ou-yay ould-shay arry-may e-may.”
“What?” Her brow pulled together as she tried to follow what he was saying. Maybe there was a limit to proposing in code.
“I’m crazy for you,” he repeated, his voice unexpectedly full of emotions. Rough like sandpaper and catching on every third syllable. “So you should marry me.”
“I got that.” She pressed her lips together. “Really?”
Shit, was she going to say no?
“Yes, really.” He pulled the ring out of his pocket and took her hand in his, holding the ring between the palms. Letting her feel it before she saw it. Settling her into the idea of becoming his wife. “Are you surprised?”
Her smile was tremulous, but wide. Shaky but bright. She shook her head. “No. And yes. I thought maybe…in the summer. But this is good. You should keep going with this.” She grinned harder now, and her eyelashes glistened. Girls and their tears.
He bowed his head and pressed his lips to her hand, resting on top of his. “Last week I took Eric to Greta’s. That day when I picked him up from school and we came back with muffins? We sat and had some apple pie then.”
“That’s why he wasn’t hungry for dinner,” she whispered.
“It was worth it, I promise.”
“Okay,” she breathed.
“We talked about you and me, and me and him, and you and him. We talked about a lot of things, and we agreed that we’re already a family, but it would be real nice if that was official. If some time maybe in the spring or summer, we could put on clothes that aren’t sweatpants and invite our friends and family to watch us make some promises to each other.”
“Like what?” The tears were falling freely now. He’d anticipated this, because his Faith was a crier. She was tough as nails, but there wasn’t a bone in her body that didn’t feel, big time. He grabbed the tissue box from the counter and passed it over before continuing.
“I promise to love you forever. To take care of our family and protect it to the best of my ability. To bring you coffee in the morning and rub your feet late at night.”
“Those sound good.”
He kissed her hand again. “I’ll do those things anyway, you know. But I would be honoured—no, that’s not strong enough. It would make me the proudest man on the planet to marry you, Faith Davidson. To wrap you in my arms and kiss you in front of the world, and say, this is my wife. She’s the other half of my soul and the mother of my children.”
“Children?”
“Eric said something about brothers. It wasn’t super clear, he had a mouthful of pie.”
“Oh, wow.” She bit her lip and sniffled again.
“Is that oh, wow, yes, or oh, wow, you’ll need to try harder to convince me?”
She laughed and tugged her hand free, curving her fingers around his hand, revealing the ring in the centre of his palm. He was pretty proud of it. One big-ass diamond in the middle, surrounded by a circle of tiny diamonds, one of which had been replaced with an opal, Eric’s birth month gemstone. “That’s an oh, wow, yes, you beautiful man.”
He hopped to his feet and slid the ring onto her left hand before picking her up and sitting her on the kitchen counter. “My fiancée. I like the sound of that.”
“If I finish this book today, maybe we could find a sitter for Eric tonight and go out for dinner to celebrate.” She kissed the corner of his mouth and wrapped her legs around his waist. He liked the way she thought, but he knew better.
“Babe, you’re not finishing that book until at least Monday, according to the Rules of Miriam.”
“Rules?”
“She says you will say that a book is almost done at least five days in a row before it’s actually done.”
Faith groaned and dropped her head to his shoulder. “Crap. That does sound like me. Love me anyway?”
There was no anyway about it. He cupped her face and hovered his mouth over hers. “Love you because of that, my genius bride. Never doubt that for a second.”