The judge fingered her brass-tipped gavel as her gaze homed in on Gray and Magda. "What exactly is your relationship with Magda that you've spent so much time with her since the airlift operation?"

"I love her." He smoothed a hand over her cap of tousled curls, the small child cradled to his uniformed chest "Just as much as I love Lori, her mother."

Lori grabbed the edge of the table. He couldn't have said what she thought, and if he did, had he meant it? Or was this just another attempt to help her win Magda, give her a child?

Either way, the beauty of his words blossomed into a joy and hope within her far more beautiful than any bed of pansies.

"Ms. Rutledge didn't mention a fiancé."

"That's because I haven't been smart enough to figure out how to get this incredible woman to take me on permanently." He hitched Magda higher on his hip and began swaying from side to side, like any parent calming a restless child. Quilted watermelons along Magda's jumper offered a tender contrast to Gray's military crispness. "But let me make it clear, whether she marries me or not, ever, Lori is still the best mother Magda could have. Lori knows more about building a family than anyone. Believe me, Your Honor, there's nothing this woman can't handle. And no one will ever love that little girl as much as she does."

"Well, Major Clark, or is it Dr. Clark?"

"Either will do."

"Major Clark, your testimony has been enlightening, if a bit unorthodox." The judge turned to Lori. "Ms. Rutledge, I'm not going to ask you to respond to his rather unique proposal. Your bid for custody is that of a single parent. It would be unfair to either of you, and especially this child, to exert undue pressure on your decision on how to respond."

"Yes, Your Honor." Lucky for her, since Lori wasn't sure she could push words through her closing throat.

The judge nodded to Lori's attorney. "Any questions for Major Clark?"

Barbara dropped her pencil on her legal pad. "I think he covered everything quite well on his own, Your Honor."

Judge Tradd quirked a brow at the couple's attorney. "Cross-examination?"

With a poorly disguised wince, the attorney replied, "No questions. As Ms. Rutledge is a single parent, we find his testimony irrelevant."

"So noted." The judge shoved aside a folder of papers. "I believe I have enough evidence before me to render a decision. I'm prepared to rule from the bench." The judge shuffled aside a sheaf of papers before closing a folder. "The basis of the law requires that I rule in the best interest of the child, not in the interest of those contesting custody or adoption. I hereby assign said minor to the foster care of Lori Rutledge with adoption proceedings pending." She rapped her gavel. "Court is adjourned."

Before Lori could clear her throat or her thoughts, the crowd engulfed her. Friends and family, they surrounded her with support, words of encouragement.

And love.

She wasn't going to lose Magda, and she had these wonderful people to thank. Gray and his—their—friends had given her more than any family ever had. She'd been so fixated on a silly little dream house she'd almost missed the real thing. A family wasn't about the house or the place. It was about the people.

One person in particular.

Lori surged forward. "Gray—"

"No. Lori, stop." He passed Magda back to her, their eyes locking over the girl's whispery curls. "Don't say anything now. Not while you're feeling grateful or riding some emotional wave. We'll talk later." Gray shot a pointed look over his shoulder at Bronco, who was leaning not too subtly toward them. "And without an audience."

Lori stared into Gray's eyes as she gathered Magda close, hoping he'd meant what he'd said earlier. She needed him, and that was a strange feeling for a woman who'd prided herself on managing anything life threw her way.

More than anything, she needed for his words to have been real.

* * *

Gray stood on the balcony outside Magda's room, stars winking encouragement overhead. A night breeze stirred the muggy humidity, yet offered little relief for the sweat beading his brow.

Slowly he unfastened his service coat. His gaze traveled the length of the balcony, past Magda's room, then to Lori's further down…

He jerked his eyes and his thoughts right back. Talk first. Hopefully making love after. But no way would he let them fall into their old trap of using sex to avoid difficult conversations.

Lori's voice drifted from Magda's room through the open French doors as she tucked her daughter into bed for the night.

Her daughter. Gray smiled.

Even if Judge Tradd had decided in favor of the fickle-minded couple, Gray had no doubts that Lori could have won Magda in the long run once she'd had a chance to gather more testimony. But now she didn't have to.

Magda's caseworker had told them later the judge had admitted to being swayed by Gray's grandstanding. His hurried calls and a quick change into his uniform had helped. And helping Lori felt damned good.

Except she didn't need him anymore, not really. Lori rarely needed anyone.

But did she still want him in her life?

He wanted her in his, with a fierceness that made the past year's frustration seem like a cake walk. He rehearsed his proposal for the fiftieth time, swiping away the perspiration on his brow. He shrugged out of his uniform coat, the silver wings glinting in the overhead light.

Gray ran his fingers over the ribbons, then up to his wings. He'd flown a lot of hours and worked hard for that star over them. Damned hard. He'd once thought those pilot wings meant everything to him.

Now he knew better.

His world was in the room beside him. Lori and Magda. If he had to give up those wings to keep them, then he would do it. Nothing was worth risking losing them again.

So easily he could envision a lifetime of nights like this. Except he would be reading the bedtime story with Lori, singing Magda a song.

Gray draped his jacket over the balcony railing, smoothing out the wrinkles with one slow sweep, then pivoted to face his future.

Lori stood framed in the French doors, one silky shirttail hanging loose from her skirt. Sticky, chocolate fingerprints dotted her shoulder. Wisps of hair escaped her braid, caressing her face.

Mussed, maternal, and so unbelievably beautiful she stole his breath. He knew without question, she always would.

Lori stared at Gray, the porch light cascading down his coal-black hair, glimmering in his bottle green eyes. Eyes that met hers with resolution, determination and—dare she hope—love.

She pulled Magda's doors closed behind her and joined him by the wooden rail. An ocean breeze ruffled the muggy air along with his close-shorn hair. He tugged his tie free, smoothing it over his jacket before he loosened the top two buttons on his shirt. "Mind if we sit?"

"Sounds great. It's been a long day."

He ignored the rocker and lowered himself to the planked floor. His leather shoes squeaked as he sat with his back against the house. He opened his arms to her and waited. "Please."

Slowly Lori sat between his knees, the warmth of the boards nothing in comparison to the heat of Gray's thighs on either side of her. Sitting straight and stiff in his arms seemed ridiculous after all they'd shared.

After all he'd said.

She relaxed against his chest, his starched shirt rasping against her silk. Had he meant it in the courtroom? A last fragment of insecurity whispered, trying to shake her with doubts that he'd only spoken to help her keep Magda.

This was about so much more than Magda.

He raised his arm beside Lori's face and pointed, the scent of dry cleaner starch oddly arousing. "That grouping of stars there. Cassiopeia. They always rise in the east, set in the west, without fail anywhere in the Northern Hemisphere. No matter what porch we sit on, we'll be able to see them."

"We?" She held herself still, didn't dare turn.

He answered without hesitation. "You, me, Magda … any other kids we add to the mix."

Wary expectancy tingled over her. He'd mentioned marriage before, and again in the courtroom when she'd been in danger of losing Magda.

This was different. Real, somehow. "Is that a proposal?"

His chuckle rumbled in her ear, against her back. "Still not quite there, am I, hon?"

"You're getting closer."

He turned her sideways. Streetlamps and the moon cast mellow beams across his face as he stared down into her eyes. "Close isn't good enough. It has to be right. You said so yourself, and you're the smartest woman I've ever met."

If she'd been smarter, she could have saved them both so much heartache by figuring it out the first go-round. But then they never would have met Magda, the precious child who had brought them back together.

"Please come with me. I know your job's important, so I checked. There's a northwest branch of the NGO in Tacoma." He cradled Lori to his chest. "I can't do anything about the Air Force right now. I owe them—"

"Gray, I understand—"

"No." He gave her a gentle squeeze. "Listen. I owe them four more years for financing part of med school." His chest rose and fell deeply behind her. "But when my time's up, if this isn't working for you, I'll get out."

Lori twisted to see him, hope blossoming into full bloom. "You would do that? For me?"

She would do that for him, but hadn't expected he would do the same for her.

He answered without hesitation. "Yes. You mean more to me than anything else. I can't lose you again."

Peace settled within her as she leaned back against the man who'd given her the only thing she'd ever truly wanted. His whole heart. Of course she couldn't let him give up the military, but she'd needed to hear his willingness to do it for her all the same.

"Thank you, Gray, but I could never ask you to do that." She heard herself echoing Angela's words, finally understanding a depth of love she'd never felt before. "It's too much a part of who you are. A man I love so very much."

He clasped her braid, wrapped its length around his arm and cupped her head close to his thudding heart. "Thank you. But know the offer stands."

Lori nodded against his chest, savoring a whiff of bay rum and the scratch of starch against her cheek. She'd tried so hard to make things work between them. Finally she realized what she had to do to earn Gray's love.

Nothing.

It was already hers, but she'd been too blinded by insecurities to see it. Love wasn't like a house or piece of land to be bought, but had to be freely given—and received.

She'd wanted Gray to fit her cookie-cutter image of what a husband should be, down to dictating the way he should propose, and hadn't recognized the gift of his unique love.

Something she intended to change.

Lori relaxed into the warm security of his chest, her head nestled under his chin. "Marry me."

The muscles cording his chest contracted against her. "What?"

They had never held back with words before, and she didn't intend to start now. "Will you marry me?"

"Wait!" He gripped her shoulders, turning her to face him. "I'm supposed to say that. I've been practicing all day."

"You have?"

A slow smile spread over his face, stirring a shiver so like the first time he'd cast his best bad-boy grin her way.

"Oh, yeah, hon, because I am not going to mess it up again." He shoved to his feet, his arm extended for her.

Lori laced her fingers with his and stood. "Okay, flyboy, give it your best shot."

Their hands clasped between them, Gray looked into her eyes. "Please be my wife. Let me be Magda's father. Let me give you more babies so we can grow old together and watch their babies grow. Lori, honey, I love you like crazy and if you don't answer soon I'm gonna die here. What do you say?"