Key of Valor
Page 81
“Yeah. He got an A on it, you know.”
“Yes, I know.”
“We figured—what the hell are you doing out here without a coat?” On a huff of impatience, he stripped off his jacket. She stood silent as he shoved her arms into the sleeves of buttery-soft leather.
“I saw you from the kitchen. Saw you hanging this in your beautiful garden, behind your beautiful house.”
“Okay.” Obviously puzzled, he lifted his shoulder. “And?”
“He gave you his bird feeder, and you hung it.” Tears tickled the base of her throat. “Bradley, this has to be the silliest-looking thing you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s an old boot with a hole in it. You’re going to see it every time you look out the window, and so’s everyone else.”
“That’s the idea.” He stepped back and just beamed at it. “It’s terrific.”
“Bradley, I have to ask you something. I was thinking, this morning, after what happened, I was thinking about how I might find the way to ask you. But I thought I needed to talk to Simon first, to explain to him and to see how he’d . . .”
She looked back at the feeder and smiled. “But I can see I don’t have to talk to him or explain. He’s made his choice already.”
“Ask me what?” He reached out to give the boot a little push, just for the pleasure of watching it swing.
“I wanted to ask you to marry me.” She felt her courage evaporate when his hand dropped to his side, when he stared at her, but she picked it back up again with both hands. “I thought I should wait until all the rest was finished and I’d had a long talk with Simon and . . . all sorts of things. And until I wasn’t so scared about what would happen if I did ask. But I think I was wrong about waiting to ask, and about not telling you that I love you, so much. So much it made me more scared so I was afraid to trust myself, or you. Or even Simon. And God, I wish you’d say something and shut me up.”
“Well. This is pretty sudden. Hang on a minute.”
Of all the things she’d expected—the best and the worst—it hadn’t been for him to stroll away, calling for Simon. Heat rose into her cheeks even as ice balled in her belly. She wasn’t sure if that was the result of mortification, hurt, or temper. She tugged his jacket tight around her as he bent down to Simon.
She couldn’t hear what was said, but it caused Simon to nod rapidly, give a little war whoop, then charge back to the house.
Hooking his thumbs in his front pockets, Brad walked back to Zoe. His expression was both polite and pleasant. “Let’s see now, where were we? You’re asking me to marry you because I hung the feeder Simon gave me in the garden.”
“Yes. No. Damn it, Bradley, you don’t have to make me sound like a fool. The only other people Simon’s ever given things he makes to besides me are the Hansons, and that’s because he thinks of them like grandparents. He gave this to you because he loves you, and I thought . . . You hung it.”
“I happen to like it.” He couldn’t help grinning like a fool when he tapped a finger against the red leather boot. “I’m afraid you might be missing the artistic whimsy of the design. But be that as it may—”
“Don’t you talk to me about artistic whimsy. Let me tell you something, Bradley Charles Vane IV, if you’re not prepared to stand behind all that talk about being in love with me, then you don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
The grin stayed plastered on his face as he looked at her. “Don’t I?”
“Marriage isn’t a joke to me, it’s what I expect from the man I love and the one who claims to love me. My son deserves a father, not someone who just wants to play around at relationships. Neither of us is going to settle.”
Brad nodded. “I guess that told me.”
“I got it! I got it!” Simon bulleted out of the house. “It was right where—” He cut himself off at the warning look from Brad, but though he stared down at the ground, his shoulders shook with laughter.
“I’d like to know what’s so damn funny.”
“A little man business between me and Simon,” Brad told her, deftly palming the box Simon had clutched in his hand. “You see, it happens Simon and I discussed a certain matter a while back, and—”
“You said you had to wait until . . .” Hunching his shoulders under Brad’s bland stare, Simon scuffed a toe on the path. “Okay, okay, but hurry up.”
“We came to an understanding,” Brad continued. “And as questions on both sides were resolved, I thought it only right to show him this, so he could be sure of my intentions.”
Brad lifted the box, opened the lid.
“It was his grandmother’s and—golly, can’t I say anything?” Simon complained when Brad shushed him.
“Let’s see what your mother has to say first.”
Looking at the ring was like looking at stars. Delicate and bright, and beautiful. She could only give a helpless shake of her head.
“You had plenty to say a minute ago,” Brad pointed out. “Something about me standing up, and what you expect. But maybe I should answer your initial question. Yes.” He took the ring from the box. “Absolutely yes. I’ll be your husband, and love you every day for the rest of my life.”
“Put it on her finger,” Simon demanded. “You’re supposed to put it on her finger, then you have to kiss her.”
“I know the drill.”
“You—the two of you—already talked about this?” Zoe managed.
“That’s right. When a guy’s taking on a father, there are things he needs to know.” Brad exchanged a look with Simon, one that made Zoe’s heart sparkle every bit as richly as the ring. “And when a man’s being given a son, there are things he needs to say.”
“It’s man-to-man stuff,” Simon told her. “You wouldn’t get it.”
“Oh.” She felt the laugh bubble up through the tears in her throat. “Okay, then.”
“Zoe? Give me your hand.”
She looked at him first, looked into his eyes. “He’s the most precious thing in the world to me.” She laid her right hand on Simon’s shoulder and gave Brad her left. “We’re both yours now.”
“Yes, I know.”
“We figured—what the hell are you doing out here without a coat?” On a huff of impatience, he stripped off his jacket. She stood silent as he shoved her arms into the sleeves of buttery-soft leather.
“I saw you from the kitchen. Saw you hanging this in your beautiful garden, behind your beautiful house.”
“Okay.” Obviously puzzled, he lifted his shoulder. “And?”
“He gave you his bird feeder, and you hung it.” Tears tickled the base of her throat. “Bradley, this has to be the silliest-looking thing you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s an old boot with a hole in it. You’re going to see it every time you look out the window, and so’s everyone else.”
“That’s the idea.” He stepped back and just beamed at it. “It’s terrific.”
“Bradley, I have to ask you something. I was thinking, this morning, after what happened, I was thinking about how I might find the way to ask you. But I thought I needed to talk to Simon first, to explain to him and to see how he’d . . .”
She looked back at the feeder and smiled. “But I can see I don’t have to talk to him or explain. He’s made his choice already.”
“Ask me what?” He reached out to give the boot a little push, just for the pleasure of watching it swing.
“I wanted to ask you to marry me.” She felt her courage evaporate when his hand dropped to his side, when he stared at her, but she picked it back up again with both hands. “I thought I should wait until all the rest was finished and I’d had a long talk with Simon and . . . all sorts of things. And until I wasn’t so scared about what would happen if I did ask. But I think I was wrong about waiting to ask, and about not telling you that I love you, so much. So much it made me more scared so I was afraid to trust myself, or you. Or even Simon. And God, I wish you’d say something and shut me up.”
“Well. This is pretty sudden. Hang on a minute.”
Of all the things she’d expected—the best and the worst—it hadn’t been for him to stroll away, calling for Simon. Heat rose into her cheeks even as ice balled in her belly. She wasn’t sure if that was the result of mortification, hurt, or temper. She tugged his jacket tight around her as he bent down to Simon.
She couldn’t hear what was said, but it caused Simon to nod rapidly, give a little war whoop, then charge back to the house.
Hooking his thumbs in his front pockets, Brad walked back to Zoe. His expression was both polite and pleasant. “Let’s see now, where were we? You’re asking me to marry you because I hung the feeder Simon gave me in the garden.”
“Yes. No. Damn it, Bradley, you don’t have to make me sound like a fool. The only other people Simon’s ever given things he makes to besides me are the Hansons, and that’s because he thinks of them like grandparents. He gave this to you because he loves you, and I thought . . . You hung it.”
“I happen to like it.” He couldn’t help grinning like a fool when he tapped a finger against the red leather boot. “I’m afraid you might be missing the artistic whimsy of the design. But be that as it may—”
“Don’t you talk to me about artistic whimsy. Let me tell you something, Bradley Charles Vane IV, if you’re not prepared to stand behind all that talk about being in love with me, then you don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
The grin stayed plastered on his face as he looked at her. “Don’t I?”
“Marriage isn’t a joke to me, it’s what I expect from the man I love and the one who claims to love me. My son deserves a father, not someone who just wants to play around at relationships. Neither of us is going to settle.”
Brad nodded. “I guess that told me.”
“I got it! I got it!” Simon bulleted out of the house. “It was right where—” He cut himself off at the warning look from Brad, but though he stared down at the ground, his shoulders shook with laughter.
“I’d like to know what’s so damn funny.”
“A little man business between me and Simon,” Brad told her, deftly palming the box Simon had clutched in his hand. “You see, it happens Simon and I discussed a certain matter a while back, and—”
“You said you had to wait until . . .” Hunching his shoulders under Brad’s bland stare, Simon scuffed a toe on the path. “Okay, okay, but hurry up.”
“We came to an understanding,” Brad continued. “And as questions on both sides were resolved, I thought it only right to show him this, so he could be sure of my intentions.”
Brad lifted the box, opened the lid.
“It was his grandmother’s and—golly, can’t I say anything?” Simon complained when Brad shushed him.
“Let’s see what your mother has to say first.”
Looking at the ring was like looking at stars. Delicate and bright, and beautiful. She could only give a helpless shake of her head.
“You had plenty to say a minute ago,” Brad pointed out. “Something about me standing up, and what you expect. But maybe I should answer your initial question. Yes.” He took the ring from the box. “Absolutely yes. I’ll be your husband, and love you every day for the rest of my life.”
“Put it on her finger,” Simon demanded. “You’re supposed to put it on her finger, then you have to kiss her.”
“I know the drill.”
“You—the two of you—already talked about this?” Zoe managed.
“That’s right. When a guy’s taking on a father, there are things he needs to know.” Brad exchanged a look with Simon, one that made Zoe’s heart sparkle every bit as richly as the ring. “And when a man’s being given a son, there are things he needs to say.”
“It’s man-to-man stuff,” Simon told her. “You wouldn’t get it.”
“Oh.” She felt the laugh bubble up through the tears in her throat. “Okay, then.”
“Zoe? Give me your hand.”
She looked at him first, looked into his eyes. “He’s the most precious thing in the world to me.” She laid her right hand on Simon’s shoulder and gave Brad her left. “We’re both yours now.”
