“I’ve got you.”

“Yeah, no kidding. But I think I can manage a couple steps from the car on my own.”

“You’re the one who didn’t want me to carry you.”

“Save those theatrics for when I’m naked,” Ricki called back over her shoulder. “We can play Tarzan and Jane then.”

Shaking his head, Mal gripped the soft material of her jacket to help guide her from behind. It had been weeks since the night he’d almost lost her, and he still found himself reaching for her half a dozen times a day.

She was adamant the danger had been less with him and Noah right next door, along with the capable team monitoring their every move. But words weren’t reality, and that bastard had come in there armed. If she hadn’t been so strong and brave, things might’ve turned out very differently for her or Nick.

As it was, she was in the midst of dealing with more legal crap than he’d ever wanted her to have to handle. Donovan had hired her the best lawyers, and with everything on tape and the fact it was clearly self-defense, it would all be over soon. But even this amount of time being taken was too much. She’d already had to endure a lot.

Now his sister-in-law was enduring her own share of shit too, considering what had gone down. Someday Axl would as well. Michael definitely understood Mal’s frustration at having to watch the person he loved deal with pain he couldn’t alleviate.

But at least now it was finally all over. They all could begin to put the pieces back together without the looming specter of some anonymous threat out to get them. Even Jules and Tris could start to heal, as awful a process as that would be.

One minute, one hour, one day at a time.

And in this case, one step.

Mal cleared his throat. “Three more steps forward. Big steps. Upward.”

“Forward or upward?”

“Both.”

Ricki growled and Mal had to laugh behind her. This blindfold idea had been an inspired choice. He was still getting the hang of directing her around, since he’d never blindfolded someone and hauled her cross-country before. Well, Donovan’s jet had done the hauling. Still, this was all new for him.

On about fifty-seven levels.

“Ouch,” Ricki mumbled as she stubbed her toe on the second step leading up to the front porch of Happy Acres’s main building. “I thought I knew where we were going, though it’s too early but then it took way too long and now it’s warm here. Even you can’t make cold areas warm.”

He smiled. No, the weather had not cooperated with him at all. Normally, by this time of year in Turnbull, they were buried under six feet of snow. Not this year. Since he was waiting for the first snowfall to propose, he hadn’t appreciated the current heat wave—and yes, heat was relative in December in New York—that was the biggest topic of conversation in the area. It was as if even Mother Nature didn’t want to cooperate.

Maybe he was rushing things. His brother had certainly given him a look or two before they’d tromped through the local jewelry store on a mission to find the right ring. Michael hadn’t come right out and said he was nuts and moving too fast, but it had been heavily implied.

Not that Michael had room to talk. He’d tried to get married on his first night with Chloe, for fuck’s sake. Just because it hadn’t taken didn’t mean the intent hadn’t been there.

But Mal wasn’t Michael, and they both knew it.

His brother had been somewhat mollified by Mal’s assertion they would have a very long engagement if Ricki said yes—to the tune of several years. He figured five was probably pushing it, but maybe three.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t want to be married to her before then. He wouldn’t ask if he wasn’t prepared to do it that day, if necessary. But planning far out would allow them to settle into the idea. It would give them a chance to spend more time living together, though they were already pretty well-used to that. An opportunity to explore the daily ins and outs of being a couple for a while, all committed and shit.

Because once she said yes, it was on. They might as well be married.

“Ow,” Ricki said as she bumped her foot again. She’d made it up another couple steps. “You know, you could try giving me a hint.”

“No. Okay, you’re on flat land now. Back to normal steps.” He led her to the door and the welcoming gold warmth within, then reached for the doorknob. “Let me just open the—”

“Oh!” she exclaimed the second the door opened. “I smell apples. We’re back. Yay, oh my God, we’re back early.”

She reached up and wrenched off the blindfold with hardly any effort, proving her physical therapy was going quite well indeed. And flashed him a quick, blinding smile before rushing inside and right into his grandmother’s arms.

“We’re back,” she said happily while his grandmother hugged her and met his gaze over Ricki’s shoulder. If he wasn’t mistaken, that twinkle in her eye was the precursor to tears.

Lord, save him from weeping women, at least until he’d managed to declare all the stuff he needed to declare to get Ricki to agree to marry him. Feeling it should be enough. Saying it seemed like overkill.

But…women. They liked the words. And flowers and candy and all that crap.

They definitely enjoyed oral sex, he’d discovered. Which made sense, since he did too. He’d been rather stingy not offering it all these years. Ricki had assured him he could make it up to the universe by practicing religiously on her, and he was going with that.

“You’re here, and you’re okay.” His grandmother cupped Ricki’s cheeks and sniffed as she checked her over from head to toe. “You look wonderful. You weren’t further harmed?”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Ricki glanced back at Mal. ”We’re fine.”

“And you.” His grandmother came over to sweep him into a huge hug. “You’re all right too?”

He nodded against her shoulder and hung on tighter.

“It’s been a difficult few weeks since the last time we saw you. Yet here you are, safe and whole. Such a sight for sore eyes, I tell you.” His grandmother smiled and released him before moving back to Ricki to hug her one more time.

“We’re okay. Now it’s finally over and we can begin to rebuild.” Ricki sighed. “Well, as much as we can. Nothing will ever be the same again for any of us.”

“No.” His grandmother swallowed hard. “That poor boy…”

“Yes.”

For a moment, none of them said anything. Then his grandmother forced a smile.

“How was your trip, baby girl?” His grandmother smoothed Ricki’s flyaway hair down her back. “Look at you, back to blond. You look happy.” She turned Ricki to face him so they could stare him down as a united front. “Is my boy treating you well?”

Ricki bit her lip to hold back a smile. She didn’t succeed. “Yes, he’s very good in bed.”

He tipped back his head and stared at the ceiling. She knew exactly how to push all of his buttons, and she did so gleefully.

“Well, now, that’s a relief. How about outside of bed? Is he doing okay there too?”

“Mostly. Except he doesn’t always leave the toilet seat down. I almost fall in at least once a week in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, that’s all of them, dear. If you find one that doesn’t do that, he likely doesn’t have a unit.”

A unit? Mal’s brain shouted. The rest of him had gone numb. It was the only way to survive a dual Ricki-and-Laverne onslaught.

“Huh. You learn something new every day. Though God knows the guys on the bus are no better. They’re lucky women put up with them. What’s to eat?” Ricki rubbed her hands together. “Everything I smell is making me ravenous.”

“Oh, is it now?” The look that his grandmother sent him curdled his blood. “How long has that been going on?”

“She’s not pregnant,” he said through gritted teeth, because he knew just where his grandmother’s thoughts were leading.

“Why, I never said she was.” His grandmother tilted her head and nodded up the stairs. “We’ll have a whole feast set out for you soon, but first, why don’t you go get settled in your room? We made sure to give you the same room as you had last time.”

“Why?”

His grandmother ignored his question. She was too busy flittering around Ricki. “We made your favorites. Apple stuffing, apple vinaigrette for your salad, and apple dumplings drizzled with that caramel sauce you like—with an extra bottle for your room too.” His grandmother nodded and Ricki smiled broadly. “With one of those easy-open tops. Who wants to fuss at a time like that?”

“You’re so right.” Ricki shot him her version of an innocent look. “Isn’t she right, honey?”

Was he still alive? Maybe this was the afterlife. Since he’d started eating pussy without being asked, his hell just happened to be apple-scented.

It seemed as if it would be apple-flavored as well. No, caramel-flavored.

Whatever.

Nonplussed at his lack of response, Ricki launched herself at his grandmother. “Oh, Mrs. Ronson, you think of absolutely everything. Thank you.”

“We try, sweetheart. Fred wanted to be here to greet you too but he’s in town getting some extra salt for the walkways just in case.”

Mal’s heart surged. “So that planned cold front is still coming?”

It better be. If they’d come all this way and he had to imagine his grandmother preparing caramel sauce for his next sex-a-thon, it needed to get fucking cold as soon as possible.

“It sure is. Actually, they’re predicting some crazy weather tomorrow afternoon. Hot on the heels of that front, we’re going to get us some thunder and lighting and high winds. Maybe even enough to un-tether some of our inflatables.”

Ricki appeared appropriately shocked, but it took everything he possessed not to smirk. “Oh, no.”

“Uh-huh. In December, no less. Can you even imagine? Then after that goes through, the snow’s coming in behind it. First true snowfall of the season and we’re expecting half a foot. Why, it’s as if Mother Nature doesn’t want you two to ever leave.” His grandmother tossed him a wink before bustling down the hall toward the large kitchen. “Go on up now, get settled in,” she added over her shoulder. “We’ll be ready for you in a bit.”

Ricki turned to him and threw her arms around his waist. “This was the best surprise ever.” She nipped his chin. “Thank you.”

He grunted. Six inches of snow was more than he’d counted on, since he didn’t love the white stuff himself. But she did, so it was worth it.

And if he invested in a pair of high-quality ear warmers, maybe he could tune out half of her conversations with his grandmother and protect his remaining sanity.

“You’re welcome. But the surprise isn’t over yet.”

“No? Did she get you another flavor of sauce with an easy-open top?” He pinched her side and she giggled, burying her face between his neck and shoulder. “Mmm, you bought more of that peppermint shower gel. I can tell this is a fresh bottle.”

He had, and his ears were on their way to burning. “How so?”

“Because there were just a few drops left the other day and we used them, remember?” She rubbed her cold nose against the side of his neck. That shouldn’t have aroused him.

He was probably a deviant.

“Something about that does seem familiar.” He didn’t add that he’d purchased a six-pack of that very peppermint shower gel and stashed them in the back of the bathroom cabinet.

She didn’t need to know just how much of a sap he truly was. It was bad enough he did.

“Showers will always be our special place. In fact,” she nibbled his ear, “I could use one now to wash off some of this travel grime.”

He nearly replied what travel grime, you traveled in a swanky private jet before his brain kicked in. That kind of argument didn’t serve his larger cause.

Namely, the one in his jeans.

“You know, you’ve got a point. I could use one too.” He shifted her toward the stairs and swatted her ass to get her moving.

Fifteen minutes later, they were naked and soapy under the hot water.

“What do you think is so special about this particular room?” Ricki wondered, shifting so he could rub his hands over her belly with the supposed purpose of getting her clean. “I mean, it’s very nice. I do love these high ceilings in particular.” She waggled her brows at him over her shoulder.

He didn’t miss her point.

“If you eat dessert five times a day, it loses its specialness,” he said over the running water.

“Only if the dessert sucks. If it’s the good stuff, I can eat it hourly and be just fine.” She smacked her lips.

“Uh-huh.” His hand drifted south to slip between her legs. “I hoped you packed warm clothes.”

She tipped her head back against his chest and smiled up at him in that way that made anything seem possible. Any wish in reach. “I’m feeling pretty warm already actually.”

Thanks to a hardy hot water tank, their shower lasted a good half hour—and he couldn’t claim to be a whole lot cleaner afterward, but his mood was definitely improved.

He went to get their bags from the SUV, then stretched out on the bed and watched Ricki get dressed. It was a process. She still wasn’t moving quickly due to her shoulder, though progress had been made there. She was in physical therapy, stretching and doing the exercises they gave her. Someday soon she’d be most of the way back to full strength.

But the scars would remain, and not just the physical. For him too. The ones on her body seemed imprinted on his mind. Add in the shit that had gone down with Dex and then Snake, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever fully stop looking around every corner for a boogeyman that would try to take her away from him.

He shoved the jagged emotions down. None of that was for today. Or this weekend.

Now was a time to celebrate. Maybe. And grind his fucking jaw down to nothing as he waited for the freaking snow.

Finally dressed in boots, jeans and a soft, fuzzy sweater, she walked to the big windows and pressed her hand to the glass as she surveyed the sprawling property. “It’s so weird, because I’ve only been here a few times. But this is my favorite place on earth.” She shifted toward him, smiling almost shyly. “Probably partly because this is our place now. Well, at least it feels that way to me.”

Throat tight, he nodded.

She traced her fingertips over the glass. “The sky looks like snow. I think it’s really coming this time. When we were here in November, it was just a tease.”

He damn well hoped so.

“You really hate Christmas?”

“Not hate, per se.”

“Right.” She grinned at him and crawled across the bed to settle on his lap. Even when there was ample seating, she always seemed to prefer to be in his arms—and as that was his preferred spot for her as well, he had no complaints.

A sharp knock on the door made him jostle her and nearly lose his grip. His grandmother poked her head in, eyes still closed. “Everyone decent?”

“Yes. Multiple layers on.” Ricki laughed. “Is dinner ready? Starving.” She flushed. “I mean, I could eat. Yes, that sounds more polite.”

His grandmother opened her eyes and smiled. “Long trip, dear. The room is to your satisfaction?”

Mal glanced up at the now covered canopy. Gauzy sheer curtain-type things draped down around the bed. He’d shoved that stuff out of the way right quick.

“Yeah,” he said, deliberately catching Ricki’s eye. He intended to make good use of that frame again tonight. “Everything’s great.”

“We swapped in a bigger tree for you too,” she said, inclining her chin at the festively decorated and lit tree revolving on its stand in the corner.

“Yay,” Mal muttered.

Ricki poked him. “It’s gorgeous, thank you. The room is just perfect.”

“So glad to hear it. Oh, and we provided extra pillowcases for you this time. They’re in the top drawer.” His grandmother winked before stepping back into the hall. “Come down whenever you’re ready. Food’s hot.”

Ricki shook her head. “We’re never going to live that down, are we?”

“At least we didn’t break the bed.” He eyed the frame again. “Might happen tonight though.”

“Don’t get a girl excited.” She climbed off him and stood, rubbing her hands. “I hope they have ham again.”

Shaking his head, he rose. “From my dick to ham.”

“What can I say? I like my meat. All kinds. Now let’s go.”

Dinner went by in a blur of family, friends, and neighbors stopping by. Ricki got her beloved honey-and-apple-glazed ham, and an assortment of other apple-accented food that Mal mostly ignored in favor for the meat, potatoes, and a dumpling. His grandmother’s knowing look as he bypassed the caramel drizzle just added an extra layer of discomfort. Especially since Ricki seemed amused by it all.

Later, when she was tucked in bed, he was still at the window, studying the sky. His app said tomorrow was the day. Damn thing was dinging all over the place with weather warnings. Wind gusts. Dangerous lightning. Lake effect snow watch.

What the fuck was lake effect snow? Wasn’t snow just snow, period? A bunch of white crap that would soak through his boots and make life generally miserable until it melted—or until the wise people got their asses on a plane back to civilization.

“Come back to bed.”

That soft, sleepy voice would be his undoing. Turning to see her bathed in moonlight with all that gorgeous blond hair draped over his pillow as she smiled up at him—yeah, he was gone.

“You know I love you, right?” he asked hoarsely.

And cursed himself. Christ, he was supposed to say that when he proposed. Without the question around it.

Good goddamn, he sucked at this shit.

Her smile faltered for a second before growing bigger and brighter. “Yes, but hearing it is always nice. Better than nice.” She propped her head on her hand. “I love you too. Even if you hate Christmas and seem preoccupied with looking for UFOs. We all have our quirks.”

He had to laugh as he tossed his phone on the nightstand and settled back into bed with her in his arms, as she belonged. Sleep wouldn’t come tonight, he was sure. There was too much on the line.

Tomorrow, he’d know one way or another if they would have forever.

As expected, he tossed and turned. Ricki, however, slept like the proverbial baby, her cheek smushed into his shoulder and a smile on her face even as she slept.

She’d say yes, right?

She had to say yes.

Morning dawned overcast and cool. Not cold yet, but definitely closer to it than the day before. Ricki had made plans to go shopping with his grandmother at some big sale at the mall in Syracuse, so Mal took the opportunity to unpack stuff in the gift shop with his grandfather.

Oh, and watch his app some more. The radar was making him cross-eyed.

“Where you plan on living?” His grandfather used his box cutter to open a box of fancy soaps. Many of them apple-shaped, of course.

Mal frowned. “My apartment?”

“Even after the wedding? A woman likes to have a hand in creating her own space.”

“I didn’t think of that. Besides, we’re going to be engaged for a while.”

“How long is a while?”

“I don’t know. Three, four, maybe five years.”

His grandfather coughed. “So you’re proposing to get her off the market then just what, keep her in a holding pattern?”

“It’s a new relationship.”

“Then what the hell you proposing for? When you propose, you better be ready to get married that day.”

“I am,” Mal muttered, clutching his phone. “It’s just if we have time—”

Even as he said it, he knew it was bullshit. Ricki wouldn’t want to wait that long if she said yes. He wasn’t even sure what he was waiting for. He wanted to make that commitment to her or he wouldn’t be proposing.

His grandfather leaned up to pat his arm. “You know, son, just because your mother has been married, what, six times now, doesn’t mean you need to have a twenty-year engagement to make sure it’s gonna stick.”

“It’s not that.”

“Isn’t it?”

Mal didn’t reply. Maybe that was part of it. Even though he knew he and Ricki were nothing like his mom and Tom, Dick, and whatever the last one’s name was, his parents’ fucked-up situation had done a number on his head. His dad was just as bad or worse. He just didn’t bother to marry all the women in his life.

“Then there’s the babies.”

“Come again?”

His grandfather stood and dusted off his hands. “You know that girl wants a family. Sooner rather than later if I have a good read on her.”

Mal swallowed deeply. Yes, he knew that. Yes, he was okay with it.

Five years was plenty of time for them to get to that, right?

“Five years ain’t gonna cut it,” his grandfather added as if he’d read Mal’s mind. “So you might want to set your mind on the idea of that before you ask. Better to be prepared. Also better not to set that sweet girl up to expect something you’re not prepared to handle.”

“I can handle it,” Mal said under his breath. “Of course I can.”

His grandfather clapped his shoulder. “Good. Glad to hear it. Just think of it this way—compared to facing what you have recently, marriage and babies is the easy stuff.”

“I think I’m better with hand-to-hand combat.”

His grandfather laughed.

Less than three hours later, the promised thunderstorm swept through and sent the temperatures plummeting. The sky was a steel gray, and the snow was now coming down. Not delicately, as Mal had hoped. Something romantic.

Oh no, naturally, it had to be like nature’s angry deluge of snow, coming down so fast he could barely see out the frigging window.

And Ricki and his grandmother still weren’t home.

He didn’t want to call her and ask if they were okay. His grandmother was well-versed in driving in this weather. Better in it than he would be, that was for certain, even with his background. He’d rarely driven in snow.

Yet by the time the lights from his grandmother’s four-wheel drive vehicle swung across the driveway, he was standing outside with the ring box in his pocket.

His chill was nonexistent. Except the one turning the tips of his ears and his nose to icicles.

They were laughing as they got out of the SUV, chattering gaily. They definitely didn’t seem the least bit worried about the inclement weather. He was beside them helping to unload packages and bags before they seemed to even notice his presence.

“Hi.” Ricki grinned up at him. “Where did you come from? Look at all this snow!” She kicked at a drift already growing beside the tire. “It’s so beautiful and powdery.”

“Isn’t it just?” His grandmother beamed at him, then frowned. “Oh, oh, it’s that time, isn’t it? And we were late. Oh my gosh. Let me just take this bags and scurry in.”

“Time for what?” Ricki asked, sticking her tongue out to collect snowflakes just as he’d done as a kid.

“Never you mind. Just go with Mal.”

“We’ll get these in first.” He took the bags out of his grandmother’s hands. “Did you two clean out every store?”

“Only half.” Ricki propped her hands on her hips. “First? What’s going on?”

“Never you mind,” he echoed his grandmother, making her laugh.

Once they’d offloaded all the packages in the front hall, he gripped Ricki’s hand and trudged into the back with her, aiming straight for the pasture with all its assorted inflatable creatures and Christmas lights. Her favorite place. The closer they got, the broader she smiled. She clutched his hand that much tighter, skipping a little in the snow.

God, she was amazing. Somehow still so childlike and innocent, even after all she’d dealt with.

She was his blessing. His gift.

His life.

Once they were beside the giant Snoopy, he dropped to both knees. Her mouth rounded as she stared down at him, and then she covered her face with both hands, her mittens completely obscuring everything but her golden hair.

Halfway with the ring out of his pocket, he stopped. “You okay?”

She shook her head.

He reached up for one of her hands, prying it away from her face. “If you’re trying to avoid this, you can let me down gently.”

Eyes already brimming, she shook her head again. And said nothing. But she didn’t pull her hand away, so he took that as a good sign.

He tugged her mitten off with his teeth and tossed it aside before popping open the ring box. The diamond in the simple, elegant antique setting sparkled in the light from the blow-up decorations, and he angled the box toward her for her inspection. She wasn’t looking at the box though. Her eyes were only for him.

“You planned all this?” she whispered, her question barely carrying over the wind.

He nodded awkwardly. “Uh, I don’t have a speech. I forgot that part. So uh—”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

She nodded and wiggled her hand in his. “Yes. Let’s do it. Get it on me already.”

He laughed. Here he’d worried so much about making the moment just perfect, about if she’d say yes, if she’d think he was crazy for moving so fast—and she’d said yes before he’d even asked.

“I have to do it the right way.”

“Hurry up then.”

He pried the ring out of its box and stuffed the box back in his pocket. “Will you marry me?” His heart stampeded in his ears. He wasn’t sure his lungs were still functioning. “Be mine forever?”

“I already am the second part, but yes. Oh yes.”

His momentary joy was short-lived.

She plastered herself against him, kissing him with every ounce of the passion between them—and bounced the ring out of his hand.

Into the snow. In the dark.

“Fucking hell.”

“What’s wrong?” She kept right on kissing him, her mouth hungry on his. “We don’t have to have babies just yet. Practice is good for now.”

She definitely wasn’t hiding her interest in procreation. But he’d cross the bridge to Toys ‘R Us another day.

“The ring. The damn ring fell.” He drew back and scanned the thick snow already on the ground. The Christmas lights and glow from the inflatables helped, but dusk had already fallen. He was never going to see it out here now.

“Oh whoops. Sorry. Overexcited. Don’t worry, we’ll find it.” She dove to the ground, searching on her hands and knees while he shifted to do the same. “It couldn’t have fallen far, and oh my God, it’s so sparkly. We can’t miss it.”

Fifteen minutes later, there was more snow on the ground and no ring. He was becoming more frantic, and she was behaving like Lola prancing through the snow.

“Seriously, we’ll find it.” She patted his arm. “Don’t stress.”

He truly didn’t want to have his first fight as a committed couple this soon, but her relentless cheer in the face of the biggest fail of a proposal ever was…well, he loved her even more for it. Other women would be pitching a fit.

Instead he was.

“Wait a second. Is that…” She trailed off as she rolled on her back on a pile of snow, waving her arms in the classic shape of a snow angel. He might’ve growled if she hadn’t dug for something among the thick flakes and held it up victoriously. “Score!”

He grinned. “You drive me crazy, woman.”

“You must like it.” She was about to put the ring on herself when he seized hold of her hand and pulled her up into a sitting position before kneeling beside her to do the honors himself.

“Oh,” she breathed once he’d slipped it on. “Oh, it fits.”

“Of course. I checked with Lila and Nick about your size.”

Her eyes popped wide. “You told my brother you were going to propose?”

“I asked his permission.”

Yeah, that wouldn’t be a moment he wanted to relive either. But he’d been committed to doing this the proper way.

There would be no do-overs.

“And he gave it? Oh my God. Miracles never ceased.”

“Not until I promised to always be faithful, no matter who propositioned me backstage.”

“Oh Lord.” She covered her face with her hand.

“And to always remember birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays.”

“He does have a point there. But I don’t like white chocolate.”

“Noted.” Mal cleared his throat. “He also warned me you would want children, so if I couldn’t man up, step off.”

She gave him a cautious look, her eyes glowing from the sparkling lights all around them. “And?”

“I’m not letting anyone else plant a baby in you but me,” he growled.

As for that three, four, or five year engagement? Fuck that. He’d marry her tomorrow. Everything else was just details.

She laughed and rose on her knees to hug him. And kiss him. And generally demonstrate that hey, life as an engaged man was pretty damn awesome.

“I love you,” she said between kisses.

“I love you too. Now let’s go inside before my balls freeze off.”

“Can’t have that.” Rising, she winked. “I have plans for them.”

Then she glanced up at the snowy sky as she squeezed his hand, her ring a solid, comforting weight between their fingers. “Merry Christmas to me.”