"I know that. I couldn't love you if you weren't a good man. And you are, a very good man. But marriage. I don't know if it's the answer for any of us."
"I'm going to talk you into it sooner or later." He stepped back to her now, twined her hair around his finger in a lightning change of mood. "If it's sooner, you'd be able to decide how you want all those bare rooms done up in that big house. I'm thinking of picking one and getting started on it next rainy day."
She narrowed her eyes. "Low blow."
"Whatever works. Belong to me, Stella." He rubbed his lips over hers. "Let's be a family."
"Logan." Her heart was yearning toward him even as her body eased away. "Let's take a step back a minute. A family's part of it. I saw you with Lily."
"And?"
"I'm heading toward my middle thirties, Logan. I have an eight- and a six-year-old. I have a demanding job. A career, and I'm going to keep it. I don't know if I want to have more children. You've never had
a baby of your own, and you deserve to."
"I've thought about this. Making a baby with you, well, that would be a fine thing if we both decide we want it. But it seems to me that right now I'm getting the bonus round. You, and two entertaining boys that are already house-broken. I don't have to know everything that's going to happen, Stella. I don't
want to know every damn detail. I just have to know I love you, and I want them."
"Logan." Time for rational thinking, she decided. "We're going to have to sit down and talk this out.
We haven't even met each other's family yet."
"We can take care of that easy enough, at least with yours. We can have them over for dinner. Pick a day."
"You don't have any furniture." She heard her voice pitch, and deliberately leveled herself again.
"That's not important."
"Not to me."
"The point is we're skipping over a lot of the most basic steps." And at the moment, all of them were jumbled and muzzy in her mind.
Marriage, changing things for her boys once more, the possibility of another child. How could she keep up?
"Here you are talking about taking on two children. You don't know what it's like to live in the same house as a couple of young boys."
"Red, I was a young boy. I tell you what, you go ahead and make me a list of all those basic steps.
We'll take them, in order, if that's what you need to do. But I want you to tell me, here and now,
do you love me?"
"You've already told me I do."
He set his hands on her waist, drew her in, drew her up in the way that made her heart stutter.
"Tell me."
Did he know, could he know, how huge it was for her to say the words? Words she'd said to no man
but the one she'd lost. Here he was, those eyes on hers, waiting for the simple acknowledgment of what he already knew.
"I love you. I do, but—"
"That'll do for now." He closed his mouth over hers and rode out the storm of emotion raging inside him. Then he stepped back. "You make that list, Red. And start thinking what color you want on those living room walls. Tell the boys I'll see them tomorrow."
"But... weren't you going to stay for dinner?"
"I've got some things to do," he said as he strode away. "And so do you." He glanced over his shoulder. "You need to worry about me."
* * *
One of the things he had to do was work off the frustration. When he'd asked Rae to marry him, it was no surprise for either of them and her acceptance had been instant and enthusiastic.
Of course, look where that had gotten them.
But it was hard on a man's ego when the woman he loved and wanted to spend his life with countered every one of his moves with a block of stubborn, hardheaded sense.
He put in an hour on his cross-trainer, sweating, guzzling water, and cursing the day he'd had the misfortune to fall in love with a stiff-necked redhead.
Of course, if she wasn't stiff-necked, stubborn, and sensible, he probably wouldn't have fallen in love with her. That still made the whole mess her fault.
He'd been happy before she'd come along. The house hadn't seemed empty before she'd been in it.
Her and those noisy kids. Since when had he voluntarily arranged to spend a precious Saturday off,
a solitary Saturday at his own house with a couple of kids running around getting into trouble?
Hell. He was going to have to go out and pick up some Popsicles.
He was a doomed man, he decided as he stepped into the shower. Hadn't he already picked the spot
in the backyard for a swing set? Hadn't he already started a rough sketch for a tree house?
He'd started thinking like a father.
Maybe he'd liked the sensation of holding that baby in his arms, but having one wasn't a deal breaker. How was either one of them supposed to know how they'd feel about that a year from now?
Things happen, he thought, remembering Hayley's words, because they're meant to happen.
Because, he corrected as he yanked on fresh jeans, you damn well made them happen.
He was going to start making things happen.
In fifteen minutes, after a quick check of the phone book, he was in his car and heading into Memphis. His hair was still wet.
* * *
Will had barely started on his after-dinner decaf and the stingy sliver of lemon meringue pie Jolene allowed him when he heard the knock on the door.
"Now who the devil could that be?"
"I don't know, honey. Maybe you should go find out."
"If they want a damn piece of pie, then I want a bigger one."
"If it's the Bowers boy about cutting the grass, tell him I've got a couple of cans of Coke cold in here."
But when Will opened the door, it wasn't the gangly Bowers boy, but a broad-shouldered man wearing
an irritated scowl. Instinctively, Will edged into the opening of the door to block it. "Something I can
do for you?"
"Yeah. I'm Logan Kitridge, and I've just asked your daughter to marry me."
"Who is it, honey?" Fussing with her hair, Jolene walked up to the door. "Why it's Logan Kitridge,
isn't it? We met you a time or two over at Roz's. Been some time back, though. I know your mama
a little. Come on in."
"He says he asked Stella to marry him."
"Is that so!" Her face brightened like the sun, with her eyes wide and avid with curiosity. "Why, that's
just marvelous. You come on back and have some pie."
"He didn't say if she'd said yes," Will pointed out.
"Since when does Stella say anything as simple as yes?" Logan demanded, and had Will grinning.
"That's my girl."
They sat down, ate pie, drank coffee, and circled around the subject at hand with small talk about his mother, Stella, the new baby.
Finally, Will leaned back. "So, am I supposed to ask you how you intend to support my daughter and grandsons?"
"You tell me. Last time I did this, the girl's father'd had a couple of years to grill me. Didn't figure I'd have to go through this part of it again at my age."
"Of course you don't." Jolene gave her husband a little slap on the arm. "He's just teasing. Stella can support herself and those boys just fine. And you wouldn't be here looking so irritated if you didn't
love her. I guess one question, if you don't mind me asking, is how you feel about being stepfather
to her boys."
"About the same way, I expect, you feel being their step-grandmother. And if I'm lucky, they'll feel
about me the way they do about you. I know they love spending time with you, and I hear their Nana
Jo bakes cookies as good as David's. That's some compliment."
"They're precious to us," Will said. "They're precious to Stella. They were precious to Kevin. He was
a good man."
"Maybe it'd be easier for me if he hadn't been. If he'd been a son of a bitch and she'd divorced him instead of him being a good man who died too young. I don't know, because that's not the case. I'm glad for her that she had a good man and a good marriage, glad for the boys that they had a good father who loved them. I can live with his ghost, if that's what you're wondering. Fact is, I can be grateful to him."