Manila Marriage App (14 page)

“No need. Imelda already knows.”

Huh? I smelled a conspiracy. “OK. Hold on a sec.” I shuffled back to my bedroom, snatched my purse, and ran back out. “All set.”

We cruised into the park and slid to a stop. Out of the back of the car, he produced a picnic lunch and grabbed my hand to hold. We walked—slowly—and talked, first discussing Lois Lane's progress. Like a proud papa, he showed me the latest kitty pictures on his phone. Then we circled around to the subject of Pinky. She continued on the road to recovery. It pleased me to see the excitement in Timothy's eyes when he told me how he'd submitted a proposal to Food for the Hungry. He was going to great lengths to assist his friends upstream. I was catching his dream for his neighbors, and I was thrilled to see his glow of enthusiasm.

It was delightful strolling through the park. We watched ducks glide across the lake and dive for food with their tails high in the air. I pointed to a strange creature hopping from lily pad to lily pad. “See the crested bird walking on the water? Do you know what's it called?”

“It's a Lilytrotter. Amazing, huh?” He chuckled and swung my hand back and forth. I'd never seen him so happy.

After a bit, I was flagging, and Timothy noticed. “Shall we sit on the bench under that shade tree and have a snack?”

“Perfect.”

He dug drinks out of the basket. “I noticed you like soda.”

“Yep, it's my favorite indulgence.” I gave him my widest smile when he brought out the next food item. Fried chicken! And biscuits! My mouth watered. Imelda only ate healthy food.

I nibbled on a drumstick and sipped my soda. I couldn't remember ever being so relaxed with a man, and I soaked in the pleasure of the day. When we were finished, Timothy moved the basket to the ground at our feet, and patted the space next to him on the bench. When I scooted over, he stretched out his arm and drew me closer.

I leaned my head on his shoulder, relishing the moment.

Running the pad of his thumb down my cheek, he cupped my chin and turned my head to face him. He swallowed and took a deep, deep breath. “From the day you landed at my feet, I've been drawn to you. You were so cute sitting there on the floor, pretty blonde tresses in disarray, and…what was that green stuff in your hair?”

“Mashed peas.”

“Yes, the peas only managed to make you that much more fetching.”

“If I'd known dried green vegetables were so appealing to the opposite sex, I'd have been splashing them on for years, but thank you for the compliment.”

“You're welcome. When you met me, did you sense even a trace of attraction?”

How to answer? I'd definitely been physically attracted—hard not to be—but his attitude baffled me. I'd start with the positive. “You're a hot, handsome, hunk of a man, and I couldn't help but notice…”

A goofy grin spread across his face. “I like the sound of that.”

“…but do you have any idea how that first letter to me came across?” If I could have smacked him from Maryland, I would have.

“I didn't mean to sound like a jerk. Like I told you, I haven't had good experiences with women—except for Mom—and I was nervous. I asked Jemma to read it
after
I sent it to you to give me her opinion. She threatened to slap me.”

A surprise laugh bubbled up, and I had to hold my still sore sides.

“It was that bad, huh?”

I hadn't been honest with him from the moment I'd arrived, but now was the time to make amends. I took a deep breath of chicken-scented air. “Yeah, it was that bad, but now I have a confession to make. You made me so mad I wanted to take you down—OK, to be fair, I suppose I was just mad at the world and you were a convenient target. I had no intention of doing more than using you to have a fabulous vacation, or at least an adventure.”

To my absolute astonishment, Timothy snorted. “No kidding. You're really not that hard to read, you know. I forgive you.” He really was an extraordinary man. “So, why did you stay if you thought I was insufferable?”

“If you must know, I've become quite fond of you.” I batted my eyelashes and did my best femme fatale look.

“Just fond?”

“I said
quite
fond, didn't I?”

“What if I told you I'd bounded right past fond and run smack dab into love? I love you, Shay. The lifetime kind of love.”

I sucked in another breath and held it captive. I hadn't expected this. I knew he cared, but I had no idea how much. This changed everything.

“Timothy, I…”

“Hold on. Hear me out, please.”

I nodded. I couldn't wait to hear what else he had to say. Not much could top “I love you.”

“I know we've only known each other a short time. And I know life here with me will be hard. Part of me wishes I could fly with you back to the States, get a regular job, and make my home with you in Maryland. You understand why I think it's important to stay here?”

“I do understand. What you're doing here means something. You make a real difference in people's lives.”

“And there's so much more to be done.”

I squeezed his knee. “I know. You want a wife to help you with your work.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Yes, but what I'm trying to say is you're so much more than someone to help further my agenda. I want to make a difference in
your
life. I think you could be happy here, and I want to be the one to make you happy.” His eyes were shining. “I'd prayed God would help me find someone I could someday learn to love. The last thing I expected was to fall in love with you as soon as I met you.”

“Timothy?”

“Shh. I'm almost done.” He flattened me to his chest and rested his head on my shoulder. I could feel him tremble.
Tremble!
Pushing me away with gentle hands, he gazed at me with the most adoring expression I'd ever seen. He reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a small package. The robins-egg blue box was
not
from a fast food chicken restaurant. He slid off the bench and eased down on one knee.

My head spun as I tried to focus on his every word.

He reached for my hand. “I love you with all my heart and I couldn't bear it if you left. Will you marry me, Shay? I promise to do my best to love you, honor you, and cherish you.”

He loved me! He wanted to marry me! Did I love him? Oh yes, with every gigabyte of my being.

He eased open the jewelry box. I found myself staring at an emerald-cut diamond ring, perhaps a carat-and-a-half, with two diamond baguettes mounted on either side. Simple and gorgeous. Undoubtedly, expensive. Very. The distinctive box was from Tiffany.

“Timothy, it's stunningly beautiful, but it has to be worth a mint. Do you know how many children this would feed?”

He wagged his head back and forth. “We're not going to discuss the cost of your ring. What I want to know is do you love me, Shay? Will you marry me? Will you be my wife?”

“Well, yes. I do love you, and I'll marry you and be your wife, but we could sell this and build…”

He silenced me with a passionate kiss and then slipped the ring on my finger. “And that is one of the many reasons I want to marry you.”

I held out my hand and blinked at the dancing prism of light. “Hey, wait a minute. The ring fits perfectly. How…?”

“Imelda's a good confidante. During one of the many times you were snoozing away, she borrowed one of your rings and had it sized.”

“You're sneaky.”

“I prefer to think of it as resourceful.”

I pursed my lips. “And when, pray tell, did you purchase this ring? Did you buy it before you met me? Did it come with your Marriage Application kit?”

“You're way too inquisitive, but I picked it out a week after you moved to Imelda's. I gassed up my Lear jet, flew to New York…”

“You did what?”

“Just kidding. Dad had the jet that week. Besides we have a Tiffany and Co. less than an hour away.”

I eyed him, not quite sure what to believe. “You have a jet?”

“Hush. You talk too much.” He moved back to the bench and planted a lengthy kiss on my mouth.

We held each other close, reveling in the sensations.

“Now, would you care for more chicken? You didn't eat much, and you've been edging toward skinny since your illness.”

The last time someone had called me skinny, I'd been in the seventh grade. What a wonderful man! I eyed another drumstick and licked my lips. “Sure, and that gives me an idea.”

“Let's hear it.” Timothy snagged a biscuit, buttered it, and took a big bite.

“Why don't we have an engagement party at the seminary this weekend? Nothing elaborate. I'd really like to meet your friends.”

“That's a grand idea. And we'll bring the chicken!”

I tapped my chin in thought. “Tim? Don't you think with all your mounds of money we could spring for some coleslaw, too?”

He laughed and kissed me again with buttery tasting lips. “Anything for you, Shay. Anything for you.”

 

 

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