Listen to Your Heart - Fern Michaels [57]
“Uh-huh. I turned down the bed when I was up there.”
Josie doubled over laughing. “Then Zip is under the covers, and Rosie is on the pillow.”
“Let’s fake ’em out and head for the spare bedroom,” Paul said, drawing her to her feet.
“What about dinner?”
“What about it?” Paul said lazily.
“Uh-huh. I’ll just turn off all the burners and the oven.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Yes, it does. Do you think this night would have ended like this if you were on time?”
“Probably not. You need to get rid of that dress—it’s a mess.”
“Want to see me without it?” She heard him suck in his breath, or was that sound coming from her own mouth? “First door on the left!” Josie said, sprinting up the steps.
Nine
Josie woke slowly. She was instantly aware of where she was, of the warm body next to hers and everything that had transpired earlier. She smiled, then opened her eyes. Incredible dark eyes stared into hers. His smile matched her own. His voice was warm and husky when he said, “Good morning”
“This is the first time I’ve seen you look worry-free,” Josie whispered softly.
“That’s because tons of responsibility have shifted off my shoulders. You have a lot to do with it, Josie. Are we really going to get married?”
Josie’s stomach fluttered in panic. “You did ask me. I remember saying yes. That was last night, though. I was a little hot under the collar, and you were chagrined, to say the least. If you want to renege, it’s okay,” she said lightly as she crossed her fingers under the covers.
“Not on your life. When?”
When indeed. “You have something to say about it, Paul. Weddings take some time to prepare. Kitty is getting married in January. We could have a double wedding. Twins do things like that. Or we could go to a justice of the peace. I’ve never been married before, so I’m not sure what the rules are.” With her index finger, Josie played with the dark curls drooping over Paul’s forehead.
“That feels good. How are you at shoulder rubs?”
“Terrible. Unless of course we take turns. This has to be fifty-fifty all the way. We need to be clear on this, Paul.”
“We are. What time is it? Where are the dogs?”
“It’s seven-twenty and the dogs are outside the door. They’ve been whining for ten minutes. What time do you have to be at work?”
“Eight. I think. No one said. Do we have time . . . ?”
“’Fraid not,” Josie said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She walked naked into the bathroom and closed the door. She heard Paul groan. She grinned from ear to ear as she brushed her teeth. She sashayed out of the bathroom five minutes later dressed in the worn, frayed, but comfortable robe that she’d had since she was sixteen.
“I’ll let the dogs out and make coffee. Would you like toast or something?”
“Coffee will be fine. I have to go home and change my clothes. What should I do about Zip?”
“The same thing you’ve been doing every day since I met you—leave him here with me.”
“I could move in. Or you could move in with me.”
“I don’t like your house, Paul. It’s cold and unfriendly. You don’t have any green plants or junk. I like stuff. You know, fill corners with things. Mementos. I like warm and cozy.”
Paul slapped at his forehead. “You’re right. That’s what’s wrong with the place. I threw stuff all over yesterday. I messed it up, and it still looked the same. Zip and I more or less lived in the family room off the kitchen. I guess it’s a woman thing, huh?”
“More or less.” That’s what she could do today. With Kitty gone and no pending jobs, she could go to the French Market, buy some junk, some plants, and fix up Paul’s house. She had the van, so she could shop till she dropped and load it to the brim. A labor of love. She literally danced down the steps behind the dogs. It’s going to be a wonderful day. I can feel it in every bone of my body. “I’m getting married!” she shouted as she twirled around the kitchen, coffee strainer in hand. “Wherever you are, Mom, can you hear me? I’m getting married! Do you believe it, Mom? Me, getting married! Damn, I feel good. The pearls broke, Mom. That was my sign, right? I hope