No, not married. Remarried.

Katie had sworn she’d never get married again as long as there was enough breath in her lungs to say no. It was simple, really, she couldn’t trust herself to choose wisely. Just look at what she’d brought home the first time—Carlo Silvestri, a weak, spoiled jerk whose father had paid her a million and a half bucks to get out of his life. Hmm. At least that was a pretty good trade-off. Carlo’s father had saved the pulp mill and a lot of people’s jobs. And of course, Carlo had given her Keely—she’d put up with a dozen jerks for Keely.

The fact was, bottom line, she didn’t know Miles well. Not even a complete week, and those days had been filled with nonstop fear and violence and adrenaline rushes so extreme that Katie was ready to swear that her blood sugar had plummeted to her toes because there hadn’t been a life-and-death crisis since the McCamy house burned down, its two occupants with it.

What was a woman with no house to do? Marry a man who did have a house? A colonial?

It was funny if you looked at it a certain way. She’d saved a little boy, his dad had come to town, lots of bad things had happened, and now he wanted her to marry him. Truth be told, it was the children who’d started it. She’d wished now that they hadn’t heard Sam and Keely talking on the porch, but of course that was what her mother had intended.

Then again, she couldn’t forget those minutes in her kitchen. Fact was, she’d wanted to jump him; he’d felt just that good.

Both children were staring from Miles to her and back again. Sam said slowly, “You guys going to get married?”

“As I said, Sam, she hasn’t said yes yet. So, what do you think? Keely?”

“Mama, I’ve given this a lot of thought and I think it’s a really good idea.”

“Keely, Miles only told you two minutes ago, not all that much time to think about it.”

Keely slid a glance at Sam, who grinned like a kid who’d just copped an early look at his Christmas presents.

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“Keely and I talked about it,” Sam announced. “And we think it would be okay.”

“This is the way to go, Mama. We’re right about this.”

It was Miles and Katie’s turn to stare, both at each other and at their children. Miles said slowly, “How can you be so sure? You kids didn’t even know each other existed until last Saturday afternoon.”

Both children gave them a look like, So what’s your point?

Miles felt pumped, ready to take on the world. He knew to his soul that he wanted to do this. “Katie, what do you say? Let’s do it. No reason not to.” Knew even deeper that making love with Katie, watching her laugh and love his son, was the right thing.

Katie jumped to her feet, startling everyone. “Okay, guys, listen up. This is a huge decision for all of us. I’m going to think what this would mean before I commit to anything, you hear me? Sam, your father is going to be doing some heavy-duty thinking, too. You and Keely will have to be patient, and not pressure either your father or me into this.”

Yeah, right, Miles thought, looking at his son.

SUNDAY NIGHT

GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON, D.C.

After the most delicious spinach lasagna Miles could remember, sautéed winter squash, and a Caesar salad, hot dogs and chips and a token salad for Sam and Sean, Savich handed Miles a cup of coffee, black, no sugar. “Sit down, Miles. You still look pretty wrung out.”

“Nah, not really. Promise me you made the coffee, Savich.”

Savich grinned. “Oh yeah. I’ve taught Sherlock just about everything I know, but coffee still defeats her.”

Sherlock called out from the kitchen, “Did I hear my name being maligned?”

“Not at all,” Miles called back. “You make a mean salad, all that feta cheese you add makes it really good, but, and I have to be honest here, you just don’t have the same knack with coffee that your husband has, which is amazing since he rarely drinks it.”

“No one said you had to be honest,” Sherlock said, coming into the living room. She handed Savich a cup of tea, fresh-brewed.

“Thanks.” He took a sip, closed his eyes in bliss.

“I like your pirate face, Miles,” Sherlock said, “with all those little tape pieces. It’s sexy.”

“You never said my back was sexy,” Savich said.

She actually shuddered. “No, but I will once I stop shaking.” She added to Miles, “He’s much better, but it’s going to take another week before he can stretch without worrying his back is going to break open.”




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