In a Fix (Torus Intercession 2)

“I couldn’t leave,” I told him, gesturing around us. “Obviously.”

“Well, that’s lucky, because I hate the cold.”

I was about to put my arms around his neck when his mother called us in. As we crossed the space, I wasn’t surprised that he took my hand. Whenever we walked anywhere together, he reached for me. I had gotten into the habit fairly quickly myself.

It was odd to step into the house and be met with dead silence, and after a moment, I bumped Dallas with my shoulder.

“Hey, everybody,” he announced loudly. “Gina and Callum are having a baby!”

Everyone turned to look at him, and Gina started crying happy tears, and Callum started laughing, and just like that the evening was back on track.

“Good job,” I said, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Moments later, after we all drank a champagne toast—except for Gina, who had sparkling cider—I found myself facing Lawrence.

“I’m sorry if my behavior embarrassed you,” he said soberly, and only then did I notice that Evan was missing. “That wasn’t my intent.”

“I know it wasn’t,” I assured him. “But thank you, and I hope everything works out for you, and of course, I hope you know that you have Dallas and me in your corner.”

“I—thank you,” he replied, offering a sincere smile, and then Dallas was there, surprising the hell out of Lawrence as he threw his arms around him and hugged him tight before letting him go.

“You let us know if you need us,” he told his stepbrother, “and we have a really comfortable guest room.”

“Thank you, Dallas,” he said hoarsely, the bemused look on his face letting me know that he was a bit overwhelmed, but thankful all the same.

When we got home, I went directly to the kitchen, shedding my leather jacket and dropping it on the couch on the way.

I needed a sandwich.

The whole meal had been kind of a mess for me, which I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I wasn’t a fan of lamb, or Brussels sprouts, or mashed yams, or the bleu cheese that covered the Cobb salad. I moved the food around on my plate, though, so I didn’t hurt his mom’s feelings, or make her feel like she had to go out of her way to make something special for me.

“What’re you doing?” Dallas asked from behind me several minutes later.

I looked up from slicing tomatoes and found him leaning in the kitchen doorway, having shed the sport coat he’d been wearing. “I’m making a roast beef sandwich. If you’d like one, let me know,” I said, arching an eyebrow playfully. He had moved his food around on his plate as well.

“Uh, yes, please,” he answered quickly.

I chuckled as he crossed to the counter, leaning on it as he watched me.

“I like how you have everything laid out here. You’re always so organized.”

“It’s not a bad way to be, Agent Bauer.”

“That’s Special Agent Bauer,” he corrected me.

“Yes, yes, you’re certainly special.”

“Hey,” he grumbled, coming around the counter, about to reach for me and then turning and walking over to the dining room table, hands in his hair, tugging on his tousled mane before taking a breath and walking back.

I turned and looked at him, putting the knife down and crossing my arms. “You were doing this whole pacing thing at your mother’s too,” I informed him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Me?”

I chuckled. “You suck at whatever this is,” I said, smiling. “Out with it.”

“My promotion came through,” he said. “I was gonna tell you earlier, but then you said what you said, and that was better than the promotion so… And it was Gina and Callum’s night, so I didn’t want to say anything then.”

“That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you,” I gushed, opening my arms and moving toward him, only to have him turn and walk back to the dining room table. I stopped moving and went back to my arms being crossed. “No? Don’t want any congratulations and praise?”

He raked his fingers through his hair, then again, before walking back over to me, stopping at the end of the counter and folding his hands.

“Dallas?”

“I wanna get a cat.”

“Right now?” I teased him.

“Not right this second,” he said, and went down on one knee.

“What…are you doing?” I asked, suddenly able to hear my own heartbeat.

He took a breath, reached into the front pocket of his jeans, and pulled out a thick platinum channel ring, set with square-cut diamonds.

“That’s beautiful,” I said, because it was.

“Should be,” he whispered as the stones caught the light.

“How long have you had that?”

He cleared his throat. “Couple weeks.”

I nodded.

“My uhm—mother went with me, because I wanted… I didn’t want to pick the wrong things and…so…”

“And so?”

His gaze was steady on mine. “I love you with… I just love you, all right? And I want you to marry me, and I want to be your family, because I can’t imagine not having you with me for the rest of my life.”