Page 95 of Deputy Brand Gets Her Man
Without removing it from the collar, she flipped the envelope open and slid out a single piece of card stock with yellow roses in the corners.
“Don’t give up on us yet. Please come to dinner. My place. 7:00. Circle yes or no.”
She rolled her eyes, but went to the kitchen for a pen, and then hesitated over the card. Beans had followed her in and was wandering around smelling things. The two of them had become a unit, hadn’t they? And Frankie, too. There was a kindness to Jeremiah, a goodness that ran deeper than his childhood, deeper than his bloodline.
She nodded then and circled yes. Then she called the dog, slid the card back into its envelope, and opened the front door.
A loud whistle came from a few yards down the drive, where she saw Jeremiah’s Jeep. Beans raced that way, and when he opened the door, the pup leaped right into his arms and Jeremiah laughed as the dog licked his face. Then he set him on the passenger seat, and got in himself. She saw him pull the card out and look at it. He sent back a wave and then off he went.
Willow dressed casually, so he wouldn’t think she was expecting anything. She still took pains, though. Her blouse was pretty, her jeans were flattering and her undergarments sexy and matching, just in case.
She arrived at his new home to find the door wide open and Beans lying on the front porch. There was furniture, a cute little table and four chairs in the kitchen, and an entire suite in the living room. A vase of red and white roses and champagne in a bucket of ice sat on a coffee table, with two fancy glasses nearby. The dinner table was set.
“You furnished your house,” she said.
“I was not wise with my money today, I admit it. This dinner? Catered.”
“Out here?”
“Yeah. Aunt Chelsea even delivers.” He opened the oven and used a potholder to bring homemade pot pies with golden crust in earthenware bowls to the table. Then salad from the fridge, and homemade bread, already sliced, from the counter.
“This is…wow.”
“And I have a gift,” he said, and he held out his hand.
A thumb drive rested in his palm. She picked it up, turned it over, then lifted her questioning eyes to his.
He said, “It’s my novel.”
She lost her breath, she was so surprised. Her hand went to her chest. “You said you were thinking about writing…”
“I…didn’t trust you then.” He cleared his throat. “I trust you now, Willow Brand, with something I wouldn’t trust to anybody else.”
She held his gaze, looking deep into his vivid blue eyes. “I trust you, too, Gringo. I will never snoop on you again.”
“You’ll never need to. From now on, I’m an open book where you’re concerned.”
Tears burned in her eyes. “Holy God, I love you, Jeremiah Thorne.”
“You do?”
She nodded, leaned in closer to kiss him, but he held her away, just a little. “It’s looking rough for Frankie’s grandparents, medically,” he said. “He’s gonna need a place to live, before long.”
She stared at him for a long moment. Then she said, “Didn’t Frankie tell you he was gonna live in this house someday?”
“Yeah. And I’m hoping to make that happen. I thought you should know that first.”
“First?”
“Yeah. Before I…” His hands were resting on her hips, but he took them away as he dropped onto one knee and pulled out a ring. No box, just the ring.
“You really did go on a spendin’ spree today, didn’t you?” she breathed.
“Willow Stands Alone Brand, I am your man. I can’t ever belong to anybody else the way I belong to you. I…you’re it, you’re just…something I never thought…” He stopped, took a breath, swallowed hard. “I love you, Deputy. You want to get married?”
She looked from his suddenly uncertain blue eyes to the ring sparkling in his fingertips, back to his eyes again. “Yeah, Gringo. Yeah, I do.”
She offered her hand, palm-down, and he slipped the ring on, then kissed her finger, rose up and gathered her close. They kissed like the end of a Hallmark movie and then he picked her right up off her feet.
