Another Notch in the Beltway (24 page)

He took his thumb and brushed the tears that looked like raindrops from her lashes.

“
Mo chuisle
, I meant what I said yesterday, baby or no, I want you to be my wife. I love you. Knew I did as soon as I shook your hand and looked into those incredible eyes of yours. At that moment, I knew you were meant to be mine.”

He put a hand in his pocket and pulled out a ring. Her eyes went from his face to the ring and back. It was a spiraled circle of diamonds and opals.

“But when—”

“Did I get the ring?”

“Yes.”

“I had a cousin send it to me shortly after I met you. I wanted to be sure I had it when the moment came.”

She looked dumbfounded.

“It was my grandmother's, then my mother's, and I'm hoping you'll consent to being its next owner.” He held it poised to slip on her finger.

“But I'm independent to a fault, I take charge, don't often compromise—”

“Do you love me?” he asked, cutting her off.

“You know I do, but—”

“It's enough. Lenore, will you be my wife?”

His eyes locked on hers, and they looked at one another for a long minute. He was still holding her hand and the ring.

“I,” she faltered, “yes.” She expelled a big breath with the word. “Yes, I'll marry you.”

They were still caught in each other's gaze as his slid the ring home. Then pulling her close, he gave her a gentle, savoring kiss designed to seal the deal and capture her heart all over again.

The kiss ended as slowly as it began. They looked at one another again, and then he looked at the ring on her hand and said, “It's more beautiful there than I imagined.”

Lenore peered down at it then. It sparkled like a newly minted Waterford chandelier. “It is beautiful,” she agreed. “The fit is perfect.”

“I know. I traced the inside of one of your rings and took it to the jeweler to size so it would be perfect the moment you put it on.”

“That was taking a chance.”

“No, it wasn't. If it wasn't going to be you wearing this ring, it would have been no one.”

“Are you for real?” she asked, smiling tearily at him.

“You bet, as a heart attack, like you say.”

“I believe you and maybe more important, I trust you with my heart.”

He hugged her close. “That means the world to me.”

“I know.” More tears rolled down her face. He took out his white handkerchief and wiped them away. She smiled at him and laughed. “Happy tears.”

He sat her on a stool. “I'll nuke your omelet. I don't want my bride passing out on me.”

“You'll be handy to have around.”

“I plan to be.”

He poured two wine glasses of orange juice and handed her one. “To us.”

“To us,” she echoed, and they tapped their glasses together.

Then he kissed her and got her breakfast from the microwave.

“When do you want to get married?”

“I don't know, MP. When the craziness dies down?”

“We have no idea when that will be, and I'd like you to be mine before the baby makes his or her presence known.”

“You mean before I get a baby bump?”

“Yes.”

“Traditional, are you, Mr. Finnegan? Your writings don't support that.”

“Bohemian, flower child Ms. Held. Your writings don't support that.”

She laughed at him, at them.

“We can go to a JP, I suppose. Do you have dual citizenship?”

“I do, lass, so I'm not marrying you for a green card.”

She laughed again. “No, if you didn't, I wasn't sure if that would be a complication or not. Now it's not even a consideration.”

“Sure and it's one less thing for you to worry about.”

She looked at the ring. “It's lovely. Thank you.”

“No,
a chuisle
, thank you for honoring me by consenting to wear my ring.”

“Don't make me cry, Michael Patrick,” she warned. “Can we think about the wedding for a day or two? I shouldn't blossom that fast,” she teased, ballooning out her shirt.

“Not too long, though.”

“I promise, and we can even tell Nate and Kelly,” she said.

“You sure?”

“I'm sure.”

That earned her a smile and a kiss.

“Can we work for a while?” she asked once the dishes were loaded in the dishwasher.

“Of course, the baby will need a college fund.”

They settled in her office with the two carafes of coffee.

Lenore booted up the computer and asked, “So does Cass get Amanda pregnant with their unprotected sex? I noted the no-condom conundrum, but that didn't stop him. I meant to ask where you were going with that before you took care of my need for release.”

He was watching her. “You're so lovely when you blush.”

She felt her face flushing even more. “Must be the hormones.”

“No, darling, don't think so. You are one of the few women I know who still blush. It's very endearing and disarming. You could get a man in all kinds of trouble with that.”

“Yeah, look at all the trouble you're in, daddy, husband, lover.”

They were both laughing.

“Back to Cass and Amanda, Finnegan. What did you have in mind?”

“Don't know for sure. I thought we'd talk about it.”

“We could have her not be pregnant and one or both be disappointed. Conversely, she could be knocked up and one of them could be unhappy about it. I'd say Cass, based on his thoughts of dealing with consequences later. Or they be could like us and be happy about it or maybe get there in the end.”

“Should we let it play out for a while? Amanda's never been pregnant and wouldn't necessarily read the signs as clearly as you did.”

“You mean she'll think she has the flu? I don't want to do the flu. Everyone does that.”

“What about your symptoms?”

“Maybe, they're less obvious. But that's weeks away yet, in the book, I mean.”

“Yes. I know you want to work on the investigation as to who's sabotaging the production.”

“I do… but I have something. Amanda is injured, not seriously, although the accident is meant to kill her. Cass insists on taking her to the hospital, and she refuses x-rays. He becomes angry with her, and she blurts out that she's pregnant with equal anger.”

“Very good, Ms. Held.”

“Okay, now we need to get from here to there,” she said excitedly.

“Where did the day go?” Lenore asked rhetorically as she fixed her hair and make-up in the master bathroom.

“We had a great day and got a lot done,” MP replied from behind her, kissing the side of her face.

“Yes, we did,” she agreed and gave him a fetching smile in the mirror.

“You should have taken a nap,” he said.

“Not when I'm on a roll. If the kids weren't coming, I would still be working.”

“I don't doubt that.”

“I should have made dinner.”

“No, we'll go out. It's fine. I called the Yardley Inn, and we're set for 7:30. That will give us time for a drink and a get-acquainted chat. You can fuss with food tomorrow.”

“You're right.”

“You describe yourself as difficult, but you always concede graciously,” he teased.

“I have no problem admitting when something makes sense. Continue to make sense, and I'll continue to be gracious.”

“Duly noted,” he said, a dimpled grin crossing his face.

She finished dressing and studied her reflection. Her dress, a teal green, long-sleeved silk blend with a scooped neck and belted waist, made her look elegant and brought out the green in her eyes.

“You are a vision, Ms. Held, truly stunning—rich and intricate.”

“Thank you, Mr. Finnegan. You look very handsome yourself—every bit the scarlet I said you were.”

He was wearing a black cashmere blazer, black turtleneck, and gray wool slacks.

“I love the way your jacket feels,” she said, running her hand down his arm.

“And I love the way you feel.” He enveloped her in a hug. “You smell fantastic, too.”

She giggled, “You are so full of Irish blarney, I'm going to need waders to keep the bullshit off of me.”

“Charm,
a chuisle
, there is a difference.”

“The line must be a fine one to detect,” she laughed as she disengaged.

“I need to make sure towels and toiletries are in order,” she said, leaving the bedroom.

“I'll help. Start showing me where things are so I can do my share.”

“Okay, but I don't mind. We don't make that much mess.”

“I don't mind either. I need to earn my keep.”

She showed him where all the towels and linens were kept.

“Are they sharing a room?” Michael Patrick asked.

“Don't know, don't care. They can share or each have their own.”

“I suppose that's only fair since we're sleeping together.”

“Who says?” she asked.

“Would you prefer to sleep separately while your son is here?”

“I meant who says we're sleeping?” she offered him a naughty grin.

“You are a bad influence on me, lass,” he grinned back. “But I think we'll be sleeping at least a bit because this wee one is zapping you.” He gently touched her stomach.

“You have a point. They train you early and suck the life right out of you,” she laughed. “Let's go down and put our feet up. They should be here soon.”

“There's beer and white wine in the refrigerator and red on the counter,” she said as they descended the steps. “Cheese is already cubed, crackers need to be put on the platter.”

“Are you talking to me or yourself?”

“Mentally checking everything off. It helps if I say it out loud.”

“You nervous about the girlfriend?”

“A little.”

“
A chuisle
, it will be fine. Plus, she won't be living with you, so even if you hate her guts, you'll only have to deal with her for short periods of time.”

“MP!”

“That's better. Color is in your face. I was having you on.”

“You're terrible. I'm not sure I like you anymore.”

“Nah, you love me.”

“I do at that.”

He pulled her in for a kiss and the door flew open.

“Have to remember to lock the door,” MP whispered and she smiled.

“Caught in the act, Mom,” Nate said genially.

“Michael Patrick Finnegan, this is my son, Nathan Held. Nathan, Michael Patrick,” Lenore said, ignoring the color rising in her cheeks.

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” they said at the same time. Everyone laughed.

The remainder of the introductions were completed.

“It's wonderful to meet you, Ms. Held, and thank you for having me,” Kelly Hyde said nervously.

“Please call me Lenore, and I'm pleased to meet you as well.”

Kelly was a tall young woman with wavy blond hair, blue eyes, and a shapely, trim figure. Her nose was perfectly proportioned to her face, and she had a bow mouth. If she were a character in one of Lenore's books, she would have described that mouth as made for pouting and kissing.

“Come on in, we'll have a drink before we go to dinner. We're going to the Yardley Inn. I hope you don't mind.”

“No that's great, Mom. I'm going to put our stuff upstairs,” Nate said, grabbing his and Kelly's overnight bags.

“Kelly, would you like something to drink? Beer, red or white wine, juice, soda, water.”

The young woman was nervous. “Um, water would be great.”

“Still or sparkling?” Lenore asked.

“Still.”

“Lenore, sweetheart, go sit with Kelly; I'll bring in the drinks.”

“Thanks, I'll have an OJ.”

He smiled at her and winked.

The two women sat in the great room.

“Your home is lovely Lenore. Thank you again for having me.”

“I'm delighted you were able to come. While you're here, make yourself comfortable. If you're hungry or thirsty, help yourself. If you need an extra blanket or towel, rummage for one.”

“That's very kind.”

“Drinks ladies,” MP said with a megawatt smile.

He handed out their orders. He himself had a Sam Adams Winter Ale.

“I didn't know what Nate would want,” he said.

“He'll find what he wants. He's used to helping himself.”

“I heard that,” Nate said, bounding into the room holding a Sam Adams as well.

Michael Patrick held up his bottle and said, “May your pockets be heavy—Your heart be light. And may good luck pursue you each morning and night. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” echoed his companions.

“How's the book coming?” Nate asked as he sat down next to Kelly and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Great,” MP said. “Your mother is the most amazing woman.”

“She is, isn't she?” Nate winked at his mom.

Two winks in one night, Lenore thought, beaming back at Nathan.

They talked about the book and happenings at Georgetown. Kelly asked MP questions about Ireland.

“I've always wanted to go,” she said, “but haven't made it there yet.”

“If Lenore and I go for a visit, you and Nate are more than welcome to join us.”

“Really?” The girl's eyes got big and excited. “That's very nice of you.”

Lenore reached over and took MP's hand, smiling.

“Oh my, that is the most beautiful ring,” Kelly said as the light played off the diamonds and opals.

Lenore hadn't even given a thought to the ring this afternoon or how they were going to break the news of their engagement. The ring had fit so perfectly, it was as if it had always been there.

“Nate, I gave your mum the ring. I've asked her to be my wife. I hope you'll approve.”