“Wait!” This was from Amy, and she looked at Mallory. “I’m sorry, but don’t you think you should tell him about the car before he finishes that sentence?”
“No,” Mallory said, giving Amy the evil eye. She wanted the rest of Ty’s sentence, dammit!
Ty frowned. “What’s wrong with the Shelby?”
“Nothing,” Mallory said quickly.
“Nothing,” Amy agreed. “Except for the dinged door where she parked too close to the mailbox.”
“Oh my God,” Mallory said to her. “What are you, the car police?”
“The classic car police,” Amy said smugly.
“You parked the Shelby on the street?” Ty asked Mallory incredulously.
She went brows-up.
“Okay,” he said, lifting his hands. “It’s okay. Never mind about the car.”
“I’ve got this one,” Grace said, wrapping an arm around Amy, covering the waitress’s mouth while she was at it. “Go on.”
Mallory turned back to Ty, who pulled her off her stool and touched the small scar on her cheek before leaning in to kiss her. “I love you, Mallory,” he said very quietly, very seriously. “So damn much.”
Warmth and affection and need and so much more rushed her. “I know.”
“You know?”
“Yes.”
“Well, hell,” he said with a small smile and a shake of his head. “You might have told me and saved me a lot of time.”
“How about I tell you something else?” she said. “I love you, too.”
The rest of the wariness he’d arrived with drained from him. “Tell me what you need from me for there to be an us,” he said.
Hope blossomed, full and bright. “You want an us?”
“I want an us. Tell me, Mallory.”
“I like what we had,” she said. “Being together after a long day, maybe dinner out sometimes. That was nice. We could skip the orchestra, though.”
“Mallory,” he said on a short laugh. “Tell me you want more from me than that.”
She bit her lower lip, but the naughty grin escaped anyway. “Well, maybe a little bit more.”
He laughed softly, his eyes going dark. He pulled her in and kissed her hard, threading his hands in her hair. “How do you feel about sealing the deal with a ring?” he murmured against her lips.
All three women gasped.
“What?” Mallory squeaked. “You mean an engagement ring? To be married?”
“Yes,” he said. “You’re it for me, Mallory. You’re everything.”
He was serious. And suddenly, so was she. “I’d like that,” she said softly.
“Good,” he said. “Anything else we need to work out?”
Only a hundred things. Where was he going to live? With her, she thought possessively. She wanted him with her. Wait—Did that mean that she’d have to learn to cook? Because that might be a stretch. And she didn’t have any room in her closet to share. And the cat. What if Sweet Pea pooped in his boots?
Ty cupped her face and made her look at him, deep into his eyes, and it was there she found the truth. All these worries were inconsequential. They didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but this.
Him.
Besides, she had time to make room for him in her closet. The cat had time to get used to him. They had all the time they needed, because he’d told her he was hers, and he was a man of his word. “I’ve got all I need,” she told him.
He leaned down and kissed her again, then stroked a finger over her temple, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I want you to know,” he said. “That you’re the best choice I ever made.”
“No regrets?”
“No regrets.”
Heart full to bursting, she tugged him down and kissed the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with.