Page 113 of Savage Justice

“What?”

“Me and Lucy. We already talked about me being her daddy.”

I stop and glare at him. “You never said!”

“I haven’t had a chance yet.”

“When did you talk?”

“Yesterday. I think it was brought on by us coming here. She’s sorting stuff out in her head, sifting through the available daddies.”

“She should have spoken to me about it if she’s confused, not pestered you.”

He slings his arm across my shoulders, and we stroll forward again.

“I’m glad she asked me. Glad she felt she could and wanted to.”

“Yes, but—”

“You do know I love the bones of that kid? Both of them.” He glances at Noah, a toddler now, asleep in his buggy. “Noah’s too young to ever know any different, but with Lucy, well, I wouldn’t have pushed her on it, but I do want to be her father, too. I’ve tried to be a dad to her in every way that matters for months now.”

“I know that, and I appreciate it. Seems as though she’s noticed as well.”

“I guess this means I’ve got her seal of approval.”

“Yes, it looks that way.”

“What about yours?”

“Mine? You know you have my approval.”

He halts in his tracks and tips up my chin with his fingertips. “Marry me, then.”

“What? What did you say?”

“You heard.” He brushes his lips across mine. “It’s what I want.”

“I thought we were waiting to see how things pan out.”

“They seem to be panning out just fine from where I’m standing.”

“I know. Yes, but…”

“Molly, marry me. Please.”

I open my mouth to deliver more words of prevarication, more platitudes about taking things slow. That’s not what comes out.

“Yes. Okay.”

He beams at me. “You said ‘yes’!”

I nod. “Yes. I think I did.”

He grabs me around the waist and swings me into the air. “She said ‘yes’!” he yells to the surrounding treetops.

There’s a whoop from Lucy, and even the normally taciturn Marlowe cracks a wide smile. Noah joins in with a high-pitched wail.

“Can I be a bridesmaid?” Lucy demands. She dances around us. “I’ll need a new dress.”