I chuckle. I’d had to get her drunk on champagne when we got on our first plane together the night of her art event. It had never occurred to me she’d never flown before. By the time we landed in Tahoe for a few days, she was a mess.

“But yes,” she interrupts my memory. “I’m glad you built this place, too. I know Joey would be fine with us staying at the Butler house anytime we wanted, but it’s nice here, and so many memories.” She winks.

“We,” I corrected.

“We what?”

“You said I built this place. We built this place.”

She smiles and shakes her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Take me to bed for a quickie before everyone arrives?” I ask hopefully and cock my eyebrow in a way I know she loves.

“A helipad,” she says again, incredulously, shaking her head and not taking my bait.

“What’s the big deal? Another resident here has one on the other side of the island.”

“Then I guess you should make friends and use his,” she suggests. “Anyway, if we have a helipad, someone uninvited may be tempted to land on it.”

She has a point.

“Do you think anyone knows there’s a wedding happening here?” she asks, the thought of uninvited guests obviously sending her mind down a certain path.

“Nope,” I assure her.

“Hmm,” she muses, “I wonder if we should have ours here, too.”

I stiffen. My heartbeat trips, and I realize I may have stopped breathing. “What are you saying?” I manage, hoping I seem curious and not desperately hopeful. It’s useless, I realize, as the hope surges through me and makes me light headed.

She gives me a wide smile, and my heart seizes. “Just getting everything ready for the wedding this weekend made me realize how much I want it to be us, and once I started thinking that, I literally couldn’t stop.” She laughs at my surprised expression.

I’ve never pushed her. I know how much she needed to be her own person, have her own identity. And it’s been tough for her to achieve it and tough for me to sit on my hands and not help her. I’m so damn proud of her.

I’ve been ready to be a father, too, since the idea was unwelcomingly thrust upon me by Audrey years ago. The idea that I could create life and a family with this gorgeous, sweet, and incredible girl, grabs hold of my heart and mind every time we make love. Although, we’ve been scrupulously careful. But I want to create a small Keri Ann. A small person, whether a boy or a girl, with all of Keri Ann’s grace and beauty, strength and unflinching loyalty. And I want to love that creature and keep it safe from monsters and create a family like I’ve only ever dreamed could really exist.

One step at a time, I remind myself.

“I’m relieved,” I struggle to joke with her, when all I want to do is fall to my knees at her feet. She’s finally ready to marry me. “However,” I add gravely. “You’re going to have to be the one to wait now.”

Her forehead cinches up and her eyes grow wide.

“Yeah. You don’t think I’m just going to ask you and be done with it, do you? You’re gonna have to sweat a little,” I say, warming up to my Machiavellian side. I’m going to make this torture.

“What? And give me time to change my mind back?” she asks innocently, and my bloods falls to my feet.

Her warm hand runs over my cheek.

I grab it, bringing her palm to my mouth to kiss it. “Don’t rob me of doing something romantic for you. Besides, you pretty much just did the proposing. At least let me save my pride and pretend to be the one doing the asking.”

“Did I?” She slaps a hand to her forehead. “I guess you’re right. Well, don’t wait too long,” she whispers.

My heart beats heavily. I thought I was always ready, but perhaps now that I’m facing my past, and my father, I’m becoming whole. Maybe it was good that we waited. Before I change my mind, I try something. “I …” I struggle to remember the exact way a British title should be spoken. “… William John Rhys Thomas, who would have been the 21st Earl of Huntley had he not been declared missing and presumed dead, a.k.a Jack Eversea … am utterly in love with you, Keri Ann Butler.”

“Well, Earl Huntley, I think I prefer Jack. You’re too big for your britches as it is, you can’t expect me to start calling you Lord.” She laughs softly, in a single moment relieving me of the gravity of a name and a past, and takes my hand. Sliding it back under her sweater, my fingers take the lead and run along the skin of her belly.

Suddenly, there is poignant significance in such a simple caress. The swell of primal urge to plant my seed is almost dizzying. She leans down again and kisses me.

When we stop, I’m breathing hard. “But we should probably get a head start on creating an heir,” I joke between kisses, my hand still resting on her belly, staking my claim. “I’ve heard it can take some time.”

She looks down at me. Her blue eyes are startlingly bright today. “I guess I’m ready for that, too.”

My hand stops its idle caress, and I flick my eyes involuntarily down to her belly. My mouth goes instantly dry as I try and fail to swallow, causing a painful gulp. I look back up at her face and see the answer in her tremulous smile and glistening eyes. She bites her lip. “Now, if you like,” she says simply, giving me everything she has.

A tidal wave of emotion roars through me, hitting hard, leaving me almost gasping and causing me to close my eyes. I slide off my chair, my knees hitting the floor at her feet.

It finally ebbs, and for a moment there is complete stillness inside me. I wrap my arms around her.

And peace.

There is peace.