Still unsure where this was going, Maggi felt sorry for him. He looked as uncomfortable as a nudist about to deliver a speech at a fashion show. “Then maybe you should cut to the chase, Cavanaugh. What is it you’re trying to say?”
Talking wasn’t his thing; it never had been. “That I’ve said some things I didn’t mean to.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”
Restless, he dragged a hand through his hair. She should understand, not make him say it. “I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”
Her smile widened. He felt as if the sun had come out. “Go on, you’re getting better.”
He told her what was in this new organ that he had discovered. “When I saw you on that stretcher…when I thought you weren’t going to make it…I didn’t want to make it, either, Mary Margaret.”
“You weren’t shot.”
“Didn’t matter.” As far as he was concerned, taking a bullet would have been a hell of a lot easier.
Something came back to her. She stared at him as the fog around her brain dissipated, allowing her to pull the fragments together. “Did you say something to me during the ambulance ride? I thought I heard you say ‘I love you’ but I figured I was out of my head.”
He looked at her, his expression grim. “You weren’t out of your head. I said it.”
“And?”
“I meant it.”
“Just then?” she prodded, watching his expression. Feeling hope bubbling up inside. “It was a pretty dramatic moment. People say things they don’t mean in situations like that.”
“Yeah, they do.” He paused, then added, “But I don’t.”
“Then you love me.”
“Yeah.” He almost sounded as if he meant it begrudgingly.
“Say it, damn it.”
He sighed, resigned to his fate. “I love you, Mary Margaret.”
Maggi rolled her eyes. Why had he used her name? “Oh, please don’t spoil it.”
Patrick allowed himself a smile. “Sorry, that’s how I think of you. That’s what the priest is going to say when he marries us, isn’t it? Do you Mary Margaret McKenna take—”
“Hold it.” Maggi grabbed his hand, pulling his attention back to her. “Did I miss something here? How did we get from the ambulance to the church?”
He looked at her, knowing he was never going to feel about anyone the way he felt about her. Surprised that he did feel like this about anyone. “In big, giant steps, Mary Margaret, in big giant steps.”
She hated being tethered like this. She wanted to get up, to throw her arms around him. With no other option, she played out the moment. “You realize you didn’t even ask me. A girl likes to be asked.”
He looked at her solemnly. “I didn’t want to take a chance on you saying no.”
How could he even think that? “Do you honestly think I would?”
“You’re a constant surprise to me, Mary Margaret, a constant surprise.”
“This isn’t a surprise,” she told him. “This is a sure thing.” And then she grinned. “You can bet the farm this time.”
“How about I just bet the rest of my life?”
“Works for me,” she told him.
Shifting from the chair to the corner of her bed, Patrick took her into his arms, carefully avoiding the IVs she was still attached to.
“Yeah, me, too,” Patrick agreed just before he kissed her.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7027-9
INTERNAL AFFAIR
Copyright © 2003 by Marie Rydzynski-Ferrarella
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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