With cat carrier in hand, Desiree climbed the steps to William’s condo. By the time she reached the top, she was huffing and puffing.

Funny. After living a life on the run, she thought she’d be in better shape.  

She raised her fist to knock on the door.

It sprang open before she could. William stood framed in the doorway, a long tall glass of water. He blinked at her in surprise. “Dez.”

“William,” she said back, clutching the cat carrier handle in both hands. Her pulse did an unsteady little ditty at the sight of him. “I’m sorry I didn’t call…”

“You’re back.” A wide grin split his lips. He pulled her close on the threshold. “Come here.”

When he enfolded her in his arms, she felt herself sinking into the warmth of his torso. She closed her eyes. She had missed him.

It was a huge transition—small town life on the shore of Mobile Bay. She had returned to her apartment in Kansas to pack everything and see her two cats her neighbor had been kind enough to care for while she was away. There hadn’t been much to put in boxes. She’d lived a sad, temporary existence from one city to the next for so long. The idea of putting down roots was both thrilling and terrifying.

The idea that she had not only found the perfect place to do that but that she had also identified her biological father, become a part of his family, and fallen madly in love was almost too much to take in.

It had taken a week to tie up loose ends in Kansas. All she had thought about the entire time was how fast it had all happened—how unbelievable this new phase of her life was.

Here, in his arms, it all came rushing back—the sense of belonging she hadn’t had since her mother’s death over a decade ago. The knowledge that she was loved, cherished, and that she was safe.

William pulled away first. He took her face in his hands, beaming.

She stared him and what he left unsaid. “You…didn’t think I’d come back. Did you?”

The smile faded briefly before he reinforced it. His thumbs caressed her cheeks. “A small voice in my head may have wondered whether you would talk yourself out of it. I didn’t listen. Or, at least I didn’t think I did…until I opened the door.”

She sighed. She couldn’t blame him. Her doubts had played mind games with both of them before. “I’m here,” she told him.

His eyes brightened. “Yeah, you are.” When he brought her in again, he lifted her face and lowered his.

He kissed her so gently, it felt like rain. She felt every moment they had been apart. She relived every moment before that when he had been hospitalized after being confronted with one of the men who had made her past a living hell. The fear and anguish of knowing how close William had come to being taken away from her just when she’d realized he was everything she wanted.

She wished she could clutch him to her tightly but quickly remembered the cat carrier. Pulling away, she looked down at it. “I should’ve dropped them off at my new place, but I followed impulse and came straight to you.”

There was sweet heat in his cheeks. She loved his tendency to color at the slightest provocation or a swell of emotion. There wasn’t much she didn’t love about William. “Here, let me take that.” He took the weight of the carrier and opened the door to let her in. “I wish you’d told me you were coming back. I would have cleaned up a bit.”

“It’s fine,” she said, glancing around. She had seen his place. It wasn’t spartan. He lived the typical single guy lifestyle with minimal furniture or flair. She loved the long wall with floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the windy bay. “Don’t,” she told him when he set the carrier down near the dining table and lifted the empty plate and glass he’d used for lunch. “I mean it. There’s nothing wrong with your place, William.”

The sound of plaintive mewing lifted from the slats in the carrier. William bent down to open the door. “When was the last time they stretched their legs?”

“In the car for a little while between Nashville and Montgomery,” she admitted. She peered around the couch. “Where’s your little guy?”

“Taz is in the bedroom,” William explained. “That’s where I leave him when I run down to the gym or leave for work. Sometimes Mom comes by to watch him or take him back to the orchard with her.”

Desiree bit her lip, watching her two calico cats, Marvin and Otis, spring from the carrier as soon as William released the locking mechanism on the door. Tails high, they meowed in twin tones as they padded soft-footed over the kitchen tiles. Otis sniffed Taz’s dog food bowl then turned his nose up in disgust. “Do you really think they’ll get along?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” William asked, crouching down to run his hand along Marvin’s spine. The cat arched toward his touch, the muscles along his flank twitching.

“Because Marvin and Otis are cats,” Desiree said slowly. “And Taz…isn’t.”

William chuckled. “Taz loves company. It doesn’t matter what kind. He can live with them if they can live with him.”

“They don’t have to live together yet,” she reminded him. They had agreed since the relationship was so new that they shouldn’t live together at first. She had already signed the lease on another pet-family place not far from his.

“Eventually,” he said, watching her as he continued to pet the feline.

Desiree met his stare and felt a lick of excitement. Living with William… God, that did sound wonderful.

Eventually, she reminded herself before she could get carried away with the image.

“Give me a moment,” he said as he stood. He walked to the closed bedroom door. 

“Okay,” she said, watching him go. When he closed the door, she took off her coat. Sinking to her knees, she tutted to Marvin and Otis. “So…what do you think?” she asked them. Otis stretched out his neck and she touched her nose to his pink one. “I told you he was wonderful.”

By the time the door opened again, Desiree had curled up on her side on the floor. She was dragging a length of Taz’s chew rope across the floor for them to chase. She raised her chin on her hand, looking up to see William with the stout English bulldog he called his own cradled against his chest. “He’s ready,” he said with a wink.

Desiree sat up, cautiously watching the cats as William lowered Taz to the ground. “Has he ever interacted with cats?” she asked hesitantly.

“Sure,” William replied, crouching next to her as the sniffing commenced. “Mom keeps several. They keep her company while Dad’s off on book tours and research trips.”

Desiree smoothed the legs of her pleated trousers and tried to do the same to her nerves. When Otis raised a paw to strike, she tensed.

Taz lowered to his belly, his bottom wiggling furiously.

Otis seemed to take this as a sign of submission. He dropped his paw back down and rubbed his cheek against Taz’s wrinkled one.

“See?” William said as Taz rolled to his back, legs splayed in the air, allowing the cats to sniff him freely. “He’s won them over already.”

Desiree started to smile. “I think you’re right,” she said after a moment. “Good boy, Taz.” She reached out to pet him.

The black box on his rhinestone studded collar caught her eye. It was velvet and smaller than her fist. “What’s this?” she asked. As she reached down to untie the ribbon holding it in place, Taz’s legs milled and his tongue lulled, eager for her attention. She scratched his belly with one hand, murmuring endearments that made him wiggle with renewed vigor. “Who’s a good doggie?” she asked, detaching the box with her free hand. “You’re a good doggie. Yes, you are.” She pivoted sideways to hand the box to William.

He was kneeling.

She froze. She looked at the box—then again at William. Down on one knee.

Her breath left her in a rush. “Oh, God,” she whispered.

He spoke low, leaning toward her as if they weren’t the only two people in the room. “I know we said we’d take it slow. I know we said we wouldn’t live together at first, and we’d wait until everything settled to talk about making things permanent. And if you don’t want me to do this…if this is too fast…say the word right now and I’ll stop. We can go on just as we are and the box can go in a drawer until the time is right.”

She swallowed, unable to find her voice. His heart was in his eyes. Hers was in her throat.

He took the box from her palm. “I wasn’t even thinking about proposing. Then I saw this in a window at one of those jewelry stores downtown, and I knew even if we wait…however long we decide to…this one’s yours.”

He lifted the lid of the box and her lips parted. She heard a breath shudder out and wrapped her arms around herself. The ring was unapologetically sparkly. It was hexagonal, the center diamond rose-cut, surrounded by a mosaic of staggered baguettes. It was refined, ornate, and different from any other engagement ring she’d ever seen. “Oh, God,” she said again.

“It’s unique,” he added, “and timeless. Like you.”

She lifted her gaze to his and saw the question there.

“It doesn’t matter where,” he said. “It doesn’t matter when. But when it’s right, will you marry me, Dez? Will you be mine—forever?”

It felt fast. Part of it felt reckless. But why else had she chosen to drop everything, change her life, move here? Her life had changed all because she had met William and done the impossible—fallen in love with him every bit as much as he loved her.

She reached for him first. She heard him sigh as she cupped the underside of his jaw and brought his mouth to hers. The kiss was a whisper, a seal.

He groaned in relief, his arm circling her waist. He drew her closer so they were both kneeling together on the floor, surrounded by their pets. Together, they took the kiss deeper.

She broke away to kiss his cheek, then the other, her lips coming to rest in the space between his eyes. “Let’s do it,” she said. When he blinked in surprise, “We will do it. Taz can be the best man. You can wear one of those family kilts I saw at Christmas. It’ll be this way, always. You and me and our menagerie. Forever.”     

“Dez.” He shook his head, as if unable to make himself belief she had said yes. “You’ll marry me.”

“I’ll marry you.” She nodded because she’d known before this moment. The knowing was easy. “I’m yours, Dimples.”

His dimples flashed as he smiled broadly and took the ring from the box. She saw the slight quaver in his fingers as he lifted her hand and slid the ring in place at the base of her fourth finger. Laughing, he said, “Look at it go.”

It didn’t just sparkle. As soon as the diamonds caught the light, they shot fireworks. She shook her head. “People are going to need sunglasses to look.”

“Do you like it?”

“I’ve never worn anything like this,” she admitted. She’d never had anything this fine or approaching it. It was hers, she thought, her heart skipping. Just as he was. She looked at it and saw him…what he’d given her. It made her glow as much as that rose-cut centerpiece. “I love it, William.”

“Good,” he said with no small measure of relief. “We’ll be married in the morning.”

Her mouth opened, closed, opened again. “What?”

He chuckled, leaning in for another kiss. “I’m kidding, Dez.”

She gave his shoulder a playful shove before twining her arms around his neck. She tilted her head, accepting the lull of his mouth when his tongue caressed hers. Then she touched her cheek to his shoulder, reveling the safety of his arms. “This kneeling thing isn’t all it’s chalked up to me.”

He lifted her off the floor. “Where to?” he asked, holding her.

She eyed the door to the bedroom then she looked back at him in silent entreaty. They hadn’t been together…not since before his hospitalization. He had been too weak when he was released, and she hadn’t wanted to hurt him.

His response was immediate. Stepping over his dog and her cats, he carried her across the threshold.

There was a pile of clothes on the floor. He tripped, cursed but couldn’t stop them from falling toward the bed.

She was laughing before her head hit the pillows.

“That was not smooth,” he said, embarrassment coloring his cheeks as he turned toward her on the bedspread. “I’m sorry.”

She raised her finger to his lips. “It’s okay,” she breathed before replacing her finger with her lips.

The sun beamed through the pane on the wall next to the bed. It cast its warmth over them. As they lay face to face, she ached at the sublimity of this…him…the two of them together. Just like this.

Always.

© Amber Leigh Williams