Anything for You (Blue Heron #5)(111)

Though they were not very gracefully said, she saw the words hit him.

He didn’t move. His expression didn’t change. He didn’t even blink.

It seemed to get very quiet.

“When?” he asked. “In another decade or so?”

“I was thinking tonight. Now. Now-ish.”

His eyebrows raised. “Really.”

“Yep.”

“And why do you want to marry me, Jess?”

“Because...because...”

She looked into his eyes, and suddenly, the shaking was gone. “Because I’ve loved you since I was twelve years old,” she said.

His mouth opened slightly, and those blue eyes softened.

“I love you more than I can say,” she said, and tears flooded her eyes. God, she hadn’t cried as much in her entire life combined as she had in the past three months. “I’ve wasted enough of my life not being married to you, so I’d like to fix that. Right now. Marian brought the marriage license from town hall, and Mr. Holland will do the ceremony, and...and we could be husband and wife in about ten minutes, if you want.”

He was still just looking at her.

No doubt about it. The bar was silent.

Then he smiled. “Okay,” he said, and he kissed her, and her whole being seemed to fill up with light and happiness, even if she was crying. A roar went up from the restaurant, but she barely noticed.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his mouth. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

He kissed her again, then rested his forehead against hers. “You know how it is, Jess,” he said, smiling. “Anything for you.”

EPILOGUE

Eleven months, one week and two days after the woman once known as Jessica Does became Jessica O’Rourke...

CONNOR O’ROURKE REALLY liked being married.

In the spring following their impromptu wedding, Jess, Davey and he had moved to Connor’s bigger place on the other side of the green. Jess didn’t want to add too much to Davey’s list of life changes, so they lived on Putney Street through the fall and winter. And when Jess did sell the Victorian—at a tidy little profit, no less—she insisted on buying half of his house from him. It was the principle, she said.

He understood.

First thing she did was buy six huge hanging baskets for the front porch. A porch swing that dangled from the overhead beams. Wicker chairs and tables. Connor wondered how it was that he’d owned the house for five years and never thought to sit out here and watch the sky darken, wave to the neighbors, just sit with his arm around his wife and want for nothing.

Davey lived in the apartment, a little more independent than he had been. They had a security lock put on the oven and stove so he couldn’t cook without one of them entering the code, and they’d done their best making the place safe. But he made his own toast now, and Connor was working on figuring out how to teach him to make his own nachos without starting a fire. Miranda came over to visit sometimes, always with her mom, and The Avengers had been played so many times that Connor could now recite it by heart.

And for three days a week, Davey stayed with Jessica’s father. And that was very nice, too.

Connor had changed his hours so he could work more day shifts and let Rafe have a little more say over the kitchen. “A control freak changes for the love of his woman,” Colleen had murmured. “Call the newspaper.” Maybe it was true.

About six weeks after Jessica Dunn became Jessica O’Rourke, Connor got some surprising news. Greg Gennaro, also known as Generic, the president of Empire State Food & Beverage, ponied up the money. “Find someone else to be the face of the company,” he advised when they signed the papers. “But you make great beer, son. Just go easy on it, you hear?”

In addition to the brewery, Connor also had a new brother—Ryan, a ten-pounder with a head of red hair. Connor visited them at the hospital, and even brought Gail flowers and thanked her, saying that since Colleen was clearly deficient as a sibling, he really appreciated Savannah and Ryan. This comment earned him a smack from his twin, as he’d known it would.

Life was good. He and Davey got along great for the most part, only one or two meltdowns, but not the head-banging kind. Connor was learning how to deal with his brother-in-law, how to be clear and specific, how to see his frustrations coming and hopefully help him deal.

And Jess...she was perfect.

Not really, of course. She still was learning to rely on him and not see it as weakness, but instead as what it was. Love. But every night when he came home, or sometimes in the middle of the night, he’d just look at her sleeping face, still a little stunned that she was his.

Then he’d wake her up. Slowly, kiss by kiss.

She loved him. She always had. Yep, stunned had it covered.

It was a beautiful evening, summer just a month away, the trees in bloom, the peepers calling. Connor was alone for the moment; dinner in the oven. He took a beer (a small one) out onto the porch to wait for his wife to come home.

Wife. The word still sounded so damn good. A hummingbird buzzed in for a drink at the hanging baskets, and across the backyard, he could hear Noah Cooper shrieking with glee, the Gomez kids shooting hoops down the block. Davey was at Keith’s tonight, so it would be just him and Jess.

Con sat on the porch swing, then lifted Fluffy up to sit with him. Jess was a little late; she’d gone to visit Honor, who was still on maternity leave, and little Elizabeth, who was an extremely beautiful baby with wide gray eyes and a solemn way about her. A sharp contrast to Isabelle, a tiny tyrant, whose first word was Con. Connor planned on lording that over his sister’s head for the rest of their lives. Colleen had another baby on the way. She hadn’t told anyone, but he knew. Another girl, he thought.