The 6th Target (Women's Murder Club 6)

Joe refilled our wineglasses, and we each took a sip while the waiter placed our entrées in front of us, but from the catch in Joe’s throat and a feeling that was growing in me, I’d lost all desire to eat.

“What happened, Joe?”

“He stayed home. We left, one by one. My parents got by on less, and they were happier for it. They’re still happy now. And I saw that and I promised myself I would never do to my family what my dad had done to us by being away.

“And then I looked at your face when I showed up last time and told you that I had a plane to catch. And everything you’ve been saying finally got to me.

“I saw that without meaning to, I’d done just what my dad had done. And so, Lindsay, this is the news I wanted to tell you. I’m home for good.”

Chapter 128

I HELD JOE’S HAND as he told me that he’d relocated to San Francisco. I was listening, and I was watching Joe’s face — full of love for me. But the wheels in my mind were spinning.

Joe and I had talked about what it would be like to be in the same place at the same time, and I’d broken up with him because it seemed we’d fallen into a way of talking more than forming a plan to make that talk come true.

Now, sitting so close to this man, I wondered if the problem had really been Joe’s job or if we had conspired together to keep a safe distance from a relationship that had all the potential to be lasting and real.

Joe picked up his coffee spoon and put it in his handkerchief pocket — I’m pretty sure he thought that the spoon was his pair of reading glasses.

Then he fumbled in his jacket pocket and took out a jeweler’s box, black velvet, about two inches on all sides.

“Something I want you to have, Lindsay.”

He put aside the vase of sweetheart roses that was between us on the table and handed the box to me.

“Open it. Please.”

“I don’t think I can,” I said.

“Just lift up the lid. There’s a hinge at the back.”

I laughed at his joke, but I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing as I did what he said. Inside, nestled on velvet, was a platinum ring with three large diamonds and a small one on each side sparkling up at me.

I finally sucked in my breath. I had to. The ring was a “gasper.” And then I looked across the table into Joe’s eyes. It was almost like gazing into my own, that’s how well I knew him.

“I love you, Lindsay. Will you marry me? Will you be my wife?”

The waiter came by and, without saying a word, sailed off. I closed the box. It made a dull little click, and I could swear that the light in the room dimmed.

I swallowed hard, because I didn’t know what to say. The wheels inside my head were still spinning, and I was feeling the room spin, too.

Joe and I had both been married.

And we’d both been divorced.

Was I ready to take a chance again?

“Linds?”

I finally choked out, “I love you, too, Joe, and I’m . . . I’m overwhelmed.” My voice cracked as I struggled to speak.

“I need some time to do some deep thinking of my own. I need to be absolutely sure. Will you hold on to this, please?” I said, pushing the small box back across the table.

“Let’s see how we do for a while. Just doing normal things,” I said to Joe. “The laundry. The movies. Weekends that don’t end with you getting into a car and heading to the airport.”

Disappointment was written all over Joe’s face, and it hurt me terribly to see it. He seemed lost for a moment, then turned my hand over, put the box in my palm, and closed my fingers around it.

“You keep this, Lindsay. I’m not changing my mind. I’m committed to you no matter how much laundry we have to do. No matter how many times we wash the car and take out the garbage and even fight about whose turn it is to do whatever. I’m really looking forward to all of that.” He grinned.