My One and Only(112)

“Unless this is a medical emergency lady,” he said in a thick New Bedford accent, “or you’re packed with explosives, no can do. Sorry.”

“Stop it or I’m jumping in!”

“Don’t even joke about it, okay?” he said, doing something to the control panel on the boat slip. “You can get arrested for that. And if you get close enough to the propeller, you’ll get sucked right under.”

The propeller was in the back of the boat. I’d aim for the side.

Do or do not. There is no try.

Egged on by Yoda and the surefire knowledge that I loved Nick Lowery more than anything, I ran as fast as I could for the end of the dock, and when the end came, I kept running, and for one incredible second, I was airborne and weightless, flying through the air.

Then the outside world went silent as I went under, bubbles roaring past my ears, and, oh, crotch, the water was frigid! I kicked to the surface and emerged, sputtering, salt water stinging my eyes, my skin crawling in a wave of goose bumps. I coughed and looked up at the boat. I couldn’t see Nick, just the massive hull of the boat about twenty feet away. People on the dock yelled and pointed. Treading water, I pushed the sodden hair out of my eyes.

“Gawddammit!” bawled Leonard the dockworker. I glanced back at him as he pulled out his radio and barked into it. “Hughie, we got a f**kin’ nut in the water! Kill the engines!” He looked at me. “Idiot!”

Then there was a splash as a life ring was thrown down from the ferry. I looked up at the boat again. A crowd had gathered, dozens of faces looking down at me. “Nick?” I called. The roar of the engines cut out abruptly, and it suddenly seemed very quiet. “Nick Lowery?” I called again.

There he was, gripping the railing with both hands. “Jesus, Harper, are you all right?” he called.

“Um…sure,” I said, though my teeth were starting to chatter.

“Take the life ring, idiot!” Leonard the dockworker ordered. I ignored him.

“Harpy, what are you doing?” Nick asked. “Are you insane?”

“Um…a little?” I kept treading water, though I was now shuddering with cold. “Nick…I had to see you.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he said.

“Ma’am? Please get out of the water.” Great. There was the cop who told me not to double-park.

“Nick…see, the thing is,” I began swimming a little closer. Then I stopped. I never did get to memorize that horrible speech I’d been working on.

He waited. The people around him waited. “Mommy, can I have a snack?” asked a kid.

“Shh!” the mom hissed.

“Ma’am, if I have to jump in there to save you, I will not be happy,” the cop said.

I looked at Nick, his rumpled hair, his lovely face, those gypsy eyes that had always done such things to my heart.

“Marry me,” I said.

I guess he didn’t expect me to say that, because he just stood there, looking at me, mouth slightly open, as if my words didn’t quite make sense.

“Marry me, Nick,” I said, my voice roughening with tears. “Marry me again. I don’t care how it looks or what the plan is or where we are, as long as we’re together. I love you, Nick. I always did, I always have, I always will.”

He still didn’t say anything. The crowd watched. “Sir?” said the cop. “Can you please answer the crazy woman so we can all go home?”

The crowd glanced between Nick and me, and for one long, heart-wrenching moment, it seemed as if Nick was just going to turn away and leave me here in the drink.

Except he didn’t. In a quick, neat move, he jumped over the railing, The crowd gasped, the dockworker swore, and with a splash, Nick landed in the water not five feet from me.

“You sure are memorable,” he said, and then he grabbed hold of the life ring with one arm, me with the other, and kissed me, a hot, hard kiss, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back for all I was worth.

“Idiots,” someone called.

I didn’t really notice. I had Nick again, the first man I’d ever loved, the only man I’d ever loved. My teeth were chattering too hard to really kiss that effectively, so I pulled back and looked into Nick’s eyes and smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

EPILOGUE

OUR WEDDING DAY—WELL, our second wedding day—was cold and rainy, the wind slapping against the wood-shingled Unitarian church, the stained-glass windows rattling. As my father and BeverLee walked me down the aisle, the wind howled in full voice.

“Sounds like a warning to me,” Nick said, grinning.

“Sorry, pal. Too late to back out now,” I answered, shoving my bouquet at Willa and grabbing both of Nick’s hands.

“Scared?” he asked in a lower voice.

I looked into his eyes. “No. Not a bit. Are you?”

He smiled, and my heart swelled. “What do you think?”

“I think you look pretty cute in a tux,” I said.

“I think if the two of you could manage to quiet down, maybe we could get started,” Father Bruce said.

Because the Catholic church wouldn’t touch Nick and me with a ten-foot pole, Father B. had managed to get himself appointed a justice of the peace. His bishop wasn’t happy, but the good father said it was worth it to be able to perform our wedding ceremony. Awfully nice of him.