He'd considered flooing straight into her living room like he normally would have done. Though she'd always claimed that she hated it when he showed up in her sitting room unannounced like that, but since she never seemed to have any qualms when Harry did it and because he was her boyfriend and not Harry, he'd always thought it was his right and if she didn't get shirty with Harry for it, then she had no right to get upset with him about it. However, she hadn't been returning his owls the past few days which led him to believe that Harry had told her about the fight they'd had, keeping her up to date on all the things he'd said about her to make her think ill of him, and she was a little tiffed about it. No matter, he set things straight shortly, he thought as a smug smile spread across his face. Deny, deny, deny, that was the way to go, afterall, who would believe another bloke over their own boyfriend?
He raised his fist and rapped firmly on the heavy door and stepped back to wait for her to open it. But when she did, he did not receive the welcome he'd been expecting. A large smile had lit her face when she first opened the door, but it rapidly disappeared when her gaze landed on him. She looked suspiciously like she'd been expecting someone else. He scowled with the thought.
"Ron," she said stiffly, "I didn't expect to see you tonight. What are you doing here?"
He let his most charming smile spread across his face. "I wanted to see you. I've missed you the last few days."
"Is that so?"
"Of course. And I wanted to see that you're okay since you haven't been returning my owls. That's not like you," he said, easing past her to enter the small house.
He kicked off his shoes and moved into the living room, dropping his coat over the back of a chair even though he knew she hated that.
Her brow wrinkled in that way it always did when she was slowly growing angry. "Yes, well, I didn't really think you deserved a reply after what you said about me to Harry."
He feigned confusion. "What do you mean? I haven't said anything to Harry."
She scoffed loudly. "Come off it, Ron, I know exactly what you said to him."
"You can't know anything, Hermione, because there isn't anything to know."
She saw the tips of his ears turning red and knew that he would soon lose his temper. She pushed him farther. "Really? So you didn't essentially call me a slag and accuse Harry of wanting to have a go at me while I was… 'upset and vulnerable,' was it?"
He tried to fight the rage bubbling up inside of him before answering her. "Of course not. I'd never say anything like that, you know that."
"No? So then you obviously never told him that I like it rough? Or that I like to play like I'm being forced?" Her voice rose as she spoke and her body began to tremble with outrage as she recalled the hurtful words that her boyfriend had said about her.
"What?" He said, aghast. "Hermione, I'd never say that! I don't what Harry's been telling you, but it's nothing but a lie."
"How can you stand there and accuse your best friend of lying? Harry's never in his life lied in order to hurt someone. He would never do that."
"Well he did. I never said any of that stuff. He's making it -"
"Stop, Ron. Just stop," she said loudly, harshly. "You're just making things worse for yourself. For once, could you just stop lying to me and tell me the truth? Please."
A shocked look passed over his face. "Wha- Hermione, I'm not lying to you. I don't lie to you."
Hundreds of memories of times that she'd caught him in a lie rushed through her mind at a dizzying rate, but rather than argue with him about something of little importance at the moment, she pushed the urge to prove him wrong aside and focused on the matter at hand.
"You're lying to me right now, Ron, without thinking twice. Doesn't it bother you in the least? To stand there and straight out lie to me without so much as blinking an eye?"
He growled in his throat, his frustration clear on his face. "Oh, come off it, Hermione, I'm not lying to you." His arms crossed over his chest and he frowned at her. "You know what the problem is? You'd rather believe anything that Harry says, even if it makes your boyfriend look like the worst sort, than to think even for a second that he could ever do anything wrong."
"Ron," she began to argue.
He shook his head furiously, feeling that he'd finally managed to turn the tables a bit and take the heat off himself. "Face it, Hermione, Harry isn't so perfect as you like to believe. He isn't some God with sunshine coming out his arse and it's bloody well time that you learned that. For the love of Merlin, Hermione, I'm your bloody boyfriend and you've never once believed me over Harry. You're letting him ruin our relationship."
She sighed with exasperation. "Harry isn't doing anything to our relationship, Ron. You'd just rather blame him than take any responsibility yourself."
"He is ruining our relationship," he argued heatedly. "We wouldn't be fighting right now if he hadn't told you lies about me and told you that I said things I never said."
Her hands moved to her hips, her fingers digging in nearly to the point of pain in an attempt to keep herself from lashing out at him. "You did say it, Ron. You said all of it, just stop denying it."
His face slowly started to turn red. "See here, you're doing it again, believing what he told you over what I'm saying."
"He didn't tell me anything, Ron, I was there," she shouted, unable to hold herself back any longer. "I heard every horrible thing you said so just stop lying to me."
His mouth hung open in shock as her words registered in his angered mind. "You… you were there?"
"Yes."
"So, when you left my flat that night, when you ran off after I proposed, you went to Harry."
"Ron," she tried, but he wouldn't let her speak.
"But that's no surprise since you always run to Harry. You tell him everything and never tell me anything. You're always running off to tell Harry about our fights, our problems, so why wouldn't you have gone to him last night?" He paused for a moment as something seemed to occur to him. "The only problem is," he began slowly, "that when I talked to Harry that morning, he told me that I'd gotten him out of bed. He didn't want to talk to me because he had a woman over… she was in his bed."
"Ron," she said again, wanting to head him off before his anger overcame him and he did something stupid.
He pointed a finger at her and she couldn't help but notice that his whole arm was trembling. "You were the bird he had over. You-you were in his bed." His expression darkened and she stepped away from him in the face of his anger. "Bloody hell, you slept with him. You slept with him after I asked you to marry me."
"Ron, please, just-"
"How long has this been going on then? How long have you been shagging him behind my back?"
"Ron, I-"
"How long?" he roared moving towards her menacingly.
This time she refused to cower in the face of his anger. "Two months."
"Two months. You've been screwing him for two fucking months. I thought he was my friend." When he turned his eyes back to her, his expression was cold like she'd never seen on him before. "I thought you were my friend."
"We are your friends, Ron."
"No, you're not," he said fiercely. "Friends wouldn't do this. If you were my friends you never would've slept together behind my back."
She blinked back the tears that filled her eyes. She'd been foolish to think that this wouldn't be so hard, childish to believe that her anger would overcome any emotion that his feelings invoked.
"You may not believe this, but we didn't plan for any of this to happen. We didn't expect it to happen. This - our feelings - were as much as a surprise to us as it would be to anyone else. We've always been just friends."
He scoffed loudly. "You've never been just friends, Hermione. Anyone would tell you that. You always go running off to Harry with the slightest problem and he never complains about it, always drops whatever he's doing when you show up."
"That's what friends do, Ron."
"No," he forcefully interrupted. "That's what boyfriends do, Hermione. You should've come to me with your problems, you should've talked to me, not to Harry."
"And what would you have done, Ron? Patronized me? Told me that I was being foolish and then start going on about the Chuddley Canons or some such nonsense?" She asked. "You've never been there for me when I needed to talk about something. You always make me feel like what I have to say isn't important, you never listen."
"Oh and Harry does?"
"Yes, he does. He always has."
"Right, because we all know that Harry's bloody perfect, isn't he?" He responded petulantly. "Better than a Weasley at any rate, right? After all, we're just a bunch of poor, pathetic redheads. Hardly worth your precious time, really."
She frowned. "Stop it, Ron. That's not how we feel, we never have. You're our best friend and you always will be."
An uncomfortable silence overcame them as she watched him closely, wondering if there was any chance that he'd ever forgive them.
"No," he finally said, speaking softly. "No, you're not and I'm beginning to think you never were."
She couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her. "You don't mean that."
"Yeah, I do." He snatched his coat from the chair where he'd tossed it and jerked his trainers on.
His hand was on the door before she finally had enough control over herself again to try to stop him. "Ron, wait. Please, just talk to me."
He turned to look at her, his blue eyes cold and empty. "I don't have time to waste on a worthless slag." Looking triumphant in the face of her pain, he yanked the door open. "Or the git pathetic enough to shag her."
The door slammed behind him and she reached out to support herself on the back of a nearby chair, her free hand going to her mouth to muffle her sobs.
* * *
He tapped lightly on her door as he pushed it open. "Hermione?"
Not hearing an answer, he toed his shoes off at the door, nudging them out of the way and followed the hall to the living room, checking for her in the kitchen as he passed.
"Hermione," he called again and was answered with silence once more.
He finally found her lying curled up on the sofa in her living room. He smiled gently, taking a moment to just watch her before quietly crossing the wooden floor. He took the blanket from the back of the couch and shook it out. Moving around to the front of the sofa, he carefully covered her with it, gently tucking it around her. As he brushed it over her shoulders, he felt her shaking ever so lightly and glanced to her face only to find the damp trails of her tears.
"Hermione?" he questioned softly.
Her body shook roughly and a sob tore from her throat as she turned her head to hide her face in the sofa cushion. He kneeled before her, his hand tenderly brushing her hair away from her face and soothing it comfortingly. Uncertainty of what had upset her so caused anxiety to build within him.
"Sweetheart, what is it?"
She shook her head, crying into the cushion, her body now trembling constantly with the force of her emotions.
He moved his free hand to grasp hers and she latched on tightly, drawing it to her chest for comfort. "What is it? What happened?"
"Harry," she managed to croak between sobs.
Slowly, he moved over her, easing himself between her body and the back of the couch and she edged forward to give him room. Once situated, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her firmly against his chest, holding her tightly and dropping kisses in her hair.
"Talk to me, Hermione. I can't help you if you don't tell me what happened."
Her hands moved up his arms, pressing them tightly to her, silently asking him to hold her tighter and he quickly obliged, tightening his arms and wrapping his body around hers until he felt like he was pulling her into him.
"Shh," he whispered into her hair, trying to sooth her. "I'm here, love, I'm here. It'll be okay. Everything will be fine."
He repeated his words, pausing occasionally to brush her hair or kiss her lightly wherever he could reach, until she finally began to calm, her sobs quieting and her trembling easing. Once she'd calmed considerably, he tried again.
"What is it, Hermione? What happened?"
Another sob shook her body and he worried that he upset her again until she finally spoke. "He hates us," was all she said.
With his cheek, he smoothed her hair away from her face and pressed his lips to the soft spot just below her ear. "Who hates us?"
She shook her head. "He hates us."
"I don't understand, Sweetheart," he told her, though he had a sinking suspicion that he did understand. He gently eased her to her back so he could see her face. "You have to tell me what happened. Who hates us?"
She sniffled quietly, moving a hand to rub at her nose and then moving it back to grip his arm again. "Ron. He told me."
He sighed, understanding what she was talking about and what must have happened and wishing he could do something to make things better for her. "Start at the beginning, love. Tell me what happened." And he braced himself to hear what she would say because he knew that whatever Ron had said it would have been harsh and unbelievably cruel, filled with anger and hatred.
She sniffled again but seemed to have gotten herself well enough under control to tell him what had happened earlier between her and Ron. She drew a deep breath before beginning. "He came over earlier to work things out between us. I was expecting you since we were going to have dinner."
He tenderly stroked a loose strand of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I got held up at work, I wanted to floo-call you, but I just couldn't get away. Death Eaters, you know, they just never give up."
She graced him with a small smile. "Don't worry about it, Harry. I assumed it was something like that."
He grinned and kissed her forehead. "Go on, what happened when Ron got here?"
She sighed. "I opened the door expecting you and he just smiled at me and walked in, acted like nothing happened. I couldn't believe his nerve. He had to have known that I would be well aware of everything he said about me by the time he came around. I called him on it, of course. I didn't really see any purpose to beating around the bush and, to be perfectly honest, I really wanted to give him hell for what he said about me." Harry chuckled lightly and felt a small sense of pride in her for having the courage to confront Ron. "He denied it, which really isn't surprising at all. I knew he wouldn't own up to it, he never does when he's in the wrong, not until he just can't deny it anymore."
She looked up at him and raised her hand to cup his cheek. He moved his own hand to cover hers and tried to smile encouragingly, but he had an overwhelming sense that what she had left to say was going to be the worst of it.
"He just made me so angry, Harry, I couldn't stop myself. He accused you of running behind his back, rushing over here to tell me everything that he had said, he said you were lying, that you just wanted to break up our relationship. I couldn't help it, I was so mad I told him to stop lying because I knew everything he'd said because I heard it. He quickly realized that I was the woman you had over that morning."
Harry sighed deeply, wondering when he could expect Ron to show up at his flat and try to take his head off.
"I'm sorry, Harry." Her voice cracked with emotion.
"Shh. It's okay, Hermione. It's better that it's out. That's not exactly the way I would've told him, but it's better that he knows."
She nodded slowly and leaned against him. "He asked how long we'd been sleeping together so I told him. I wouldn't lie to him, that would only exacerbate the situation." She paused briefly and Harry tightened his hold on her. "He was so angry, so hurt," she whispered painfully. "I've never seen him so mad. For a bit, I was afraid of what he might do."
Harry drew a strangled breath and pushed her away, holding her at arms length as he frantically looked her over. "Did he hit you? Did he touch you?" he demanded.
She shook her head quickly. "No, Harry. No, he didn't touch me."
He relaxed slowly. "What did he do?"
"He yelled," she answered in resignation. "A lot. He accused us of pretending to be his friends and of only pitying him because he's a Weasley. He…" she sobbed and pressed a hand to her mouth until she had control of herself again. "He called me a worthless slag, said we weren't worth his time and then he left. Oh, Harry," she cried, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her face to his shoulder. "What have we done?"
He stroked his hand over her back and pressed kisses to her hair. "It's okay, Hermione. It will be okay."
She shook her head against his shoulder. "No, Harry, you didn't see him, you didn't hear what he said. I think we've lost him. I do."
He held her tightly. "Believe me, sweetheart, he'll be back and he'll forgive us. You know Ron and you know his temper. He'll stay angry with us for a few days, maybe a couple of weeks and then he'll come talk to us. We've all been friends for far too long to let anything ruin that. Things will work out, you'll see."
She pulled back to frown at him. "His best mate stole his girlfriend, Harry, I don't think he'll forgive that so easily as you seem to think."
Harry flinched. "I didn't plan to love you, Hermione, and, if he knows me at all, he'll see that sooner or later."
She studied him for a moment and could see that her thoughtless comment had hurt him. She kissed him lightly and then held his gaze. "I know you didn't and neither did I, but I'm certainly happy that we did. I've gone through my entire life feeling like an outsider, like there was something fundamentally wrong with me, that something was missing. I don't feel that way anymore, Harry, not since I fell in love with you. As cliché as it sounds, you filled a void in me that I never thought would ever be filled."
He smiled brightly at her and she was overwhelmed by the love she could read in his eyes. "It is horribly cliché, love," he teased and found himself on the receiving end of a light slap before turning serious. "But I know exactly what you mean because you do the same for me."
"Good." She kissed him again.
He brushed his nose gently against hers. "Ron will come around eventually," he assured her. "In the meantime, why don't you and I take a short break and get away. Even if just for the weekend."
"Do you really think that's a good idea right now?"
"I think it's a fantastic idea. Think about it. Ron will no doubt tell his family his version of things. This way, we can avoid everyone until they've cooled down enough to listen to what we have to say and we get a little vacation together."
"I don't know, Harry."
"Well I do. We've never been able to do something like this before. This is our first chance to just be together without worrying about being caught. We could go to a country inn and just spend the weekend together without feeling guilty or having to think of alibis. You can't tell me that doesn't appeal to you."
She frowned and didn't answer because he was right, it did appeal to her. It appealed to her strongly.
"I'm thinking maybe somewhere just outside of Stratford or even in the town. We could go to a Shakespeare play or two, maybe visit a few Shakespearean sites. How can you say no to that?"
He fought to suppress a triumphant smile and failed miserably. He'd won and he knew it. She punched his shoulder and scowled at him. "I can't say no to that and you know it."
He laughed. "Yes, I do." He got to his feet and offered her his hand to pull her up as well. "You go pack a bag and I'll make the arrangements. We'll leave first thing tomorrow."
"Harry, I have work and so do you."
"Not tomorrow we don't. Shacklebolt owes me at least a year off for all the overtime and weekends I've worked and you haven't taken a holiday in your life, you can skive off, your boss won't fire you." He grinned cheekily. "I promise."
She grinned, affected by his boyish grin, though she'd never admit it. "No, I don't imagine he would since he's the one encouraging me to skive off."
"You're boss is amazing. I wish I had a boss like him."
She looked at him tenderly and moved in to kiss him lingeringly. "Yeah, you are quite amazing."
He kissed her again before gently pushing her away. "Go pack quickly because as soon as everything's arranged, I'm keeping you busy for the rest of the night."
She laughed lightly, feeling much better. "Is that a promise?"
He held his hand over his heart. "Wizard's oath if you want."
"I'll hold you to it."
"I certainly hope so." He winked at her, eliciting a surprisingly girlish giggle as she hurried down the hall to her bedroom. He watched her until she disappeared into her room and then turned to the kitchen and the telephone.
* * *
His hand moved slowly over her back, enjoying the soft, silky feel of the fitted camisole she wore. It was a beautiful day, a perfectly lazy Sunday marred only by the fact that, shortly, they'd have to return to their lives at home and deal with whatever chaos their recently unveiled relationship had caused amongst their friends and extended family. He wondered briefly how many howlers would be awaiting them upon their return and exactly how venomous they would be after having several days to fester as he knew from experience that the longer they were left unopened, the more ferocious they became. At the very least, he knew they would have to deal with howlers from Mrs. Weasley and Ginny as well as potential curses and hexes from a no doubt jealous Ginny. He idly wondered if his somewhat scandalous relationship with Hermione had been leaked to the media yet or if that particularly delight was something they'd have to wait for and suffer through in the near future.
Hermione sighed lightly and snuggled closer to him, nuzzling his neck with her nose, drawing him from his htoughts. She pressed a like kiss to the sensitive skin of his neck. "What are you thinking about?"
He lightly squeezed her as a small smile touched his lips. "I'm thinking that we should buy a house in the country, a nice, cozy little place and set up one of these things in the backyard," he answered and shifted his weight enough to make the hammock they were relaxing in sway gently. "Wouldn't it be nice to be able to do this all the time?"
He felt her smile against his neck when she kissed him there again. "Yes, it would be lovely."
"We could just lie together like this whenever we wanted and forget about the rest of the world for a few hours. We could lie in the hammock on clear nights sipping and looking at the stars."
"That sounds perfect," she replied softly. "A wonderful little getaway when we need it."
"Perfect," he murmured, seeing it all in his mind. "We'll do that."
They lay in silence for a long while, enjoying the other's company and how simple things were when they were together and away from the hassle of their lives, however short-lived the reprieve was.
"Do you think we should talk about it," she asked softly, her meaning clear.
He sighed deeply, wishing they could hide away forever and never have to deal with what awaited them at home. "I don't want to," he answered, "but I suppose we should."
She moved away from him and pushed herself up on an elbow to look at him. "I don't want to either, I wish we didn't have to deal with it at all, but we do and we should be prepared. I think we both know what we'll find when we go back."
"An entranceway buried in howlers and a pack of very angry Weasleys," he said without hesitation. "And, more likely than not, a bat bogey hex or two."
She frowned deeply. "Yes, I suppose so. It won't be easy, Harry. Least of all for you. I know you think of them as family and they feel the same about you, but Molly and Ginny, at the very least, are going to feel betrayed. I don't imagine the rest of them will have much to say on the matter, but Ron will have run straight to his mother and Ginny."
"Yeah, I know and he'll have embellished the story to make what we did seem worse and to make himself out to be the hapless victim."
"Well, that rather is what happened Harry. He didn't exactly do anything wrong in our relationship and he certainly didn't deserve to be cheated on."
He reached up and gently traced the curve of her cheek with the tip of a finger. "He may not have deserved it, but he wasn't exactly the greatest boyfriend ever. He ignored you half the time, fought with you and patronized you the rest of time and, I hate to say it, but I'm certain that he wasn't faithful all the time." He watched as her eyebrows raised in surprise, her eyes widening slightly. "He didn't tell me anything, he wouldn't have, not when it was you that he was cheating on, but I spent enough time with him to notice the way he looked at other women. I'm fairly sure he was with other women during your relationship, so he's not a real victim in all of this, regardless of how he acts."
She took a few minutes to think about what he had said, compare to her own observations and thoughts on past situations with her ex-boyfriend and sighed in resignation. "Regardless of that, he'll have told everyone his version of the truth and we both know how he'll have made us appear."
Harry nodded. "No argument there."
"Molly will blindly accept everything that he's told her and be furious with us both. I know what that's like and I'm prepared for it; I have been since I started seeing you."
"Me too," he whispered.
"Ginny on the other hand," she began.
He stroked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. "Ginny and I have been over for ages, she's no right whatsoever to be angry with you… or me for that matter."
"Yes, well, a rational person would see and understand that. However, Ginny Weasley is nothing if not rash and highly jealous especially when it concerns you. You know that she's going to react first and horribly and, years from now if ever, she'll think about it all and realize that she has no claim on you."
He smiled grimly, seeing the truth in her words. "I won't let her do anything to you, Hermione. She can get as angry as she likes, but she won't touch you."
"Oh, Harry," she tenderly cupped his cheek. "I'm not worried about what she'll do to me. I can protect myself if need be, but I know that you would never let it go that far regardless of how capable I am. What I'm concerned about is how it will all affect you."
He frowned. "What do you mean? I haven't any feelings for Ginny, you know that."
"Yes, I do know that, but you do love them all very deeply. They're your family, Harry, and I know you'd do everything in your power to keep from hurting them in any way."
He pressed his fingers to her lips to silence her. "Yes, I would, but not if it meant hurting you in any way. You're right; they are my family. They took me in and accepted me when I had no one else. They chose me, but I chose you, sweetheart, and that's all there really is to it. I love them, I really do, and I know how they'll react and I know it will hurt, but I'm prepared for that and I'll be just fine. If they truly think of me as family, then they'll want me to be happy, won't they? So they're just going to have to accept that Ginny is not and never will be the one that I choose. You are the only one that can make me happy for that forever we're planning."
Her eyes filled with tears as they moved over his features, taking him in and committing that moment to her memory. She slowly moved in to kiss him, her lips lingering against his in a light touch. "I love you, you know. So much."
He smiled and kissed her. "I know. I love you, too."
"It's not going to be easy."
"I know."
After a moment, she settled down against him again, resting her head on his chest and letting herself relax to enjoy what was left of their quiet afternoon. His hand resumed lightly stroking her back and she her head under his chin, her arm across his stomach holding him tight.
"In case they think we're not serious about this," he began slowly, his hand digging in his pocket, "I have something an idea that I believe will remove any doubt."
She lifted her head to frown at him. "Harry, I told you that I am not getting matching tattoos nor am I tattooing your name anywhere on my body."
He laughed and shook his head. "No, not that, but while we're on the subject I still don't understand why you won't let me get a tattoo of your name."
"Harry," she said, her voice full of exasperation.
"I'm not asking you to get a tattoo of any sort, I'm just saying that maybe I want to mark myself as yours, make sure the whole world knows, you know?"
She shook her head. "Because I don't own you, Harry, and I will not allow you to mark yourself as mine in such a permanent fashion."
A dark eyebrow quirked. "How about a temporary fashion? Just until people get the idea that I'm taken."
She thought about it for a moment, her brow creasing with thought. She couldn't deny that the idea appealed to her, it was such an annoyance to watch other women fawn over him all the time. "What did you have in mind?"
"I don't know, we can negotiate. In the meantime, I have something for you that will hopefully set Molly and Ginny straight."
She grinned. "And what's that?"
"Well, it seems to me that while you told me you were ready for that forever that everyone's always talking about, we never really made it official, did we?"
A fine tremble moved over her body as her heart rate started to pick up and her stomach seemed to instantaneously become filled with butterflies. "No, you're right, we didn't."
He pulled his hand from his pocket and handed her a small black box. "I think it's about time we did."
She stared at the box in his hand, unable to do anything but look at it as her mind seemed to lose the ability to command her body into action. Noticing her lack of response, Harry reached with the arm that was wrapped around her and opened the box, displaying a beautiful ring for her to see. He held it before her.
Titling his head to watch her, he said, "How about it, love? Will you marry me?"
She managed somehow to pull her gaze away from the ring to look at him. "Yes, Harry."
His cheeks hurt from the strain of smiling so widely. "I had hoped you would say that."
She looked bewildered. "What else would I say?"
He laughed heartily, filled with such happiness that he never knew was possible. "Oh, Hermione, I adore you." He pressed a long to her mouth, slowly coaxing a response from her. He nipped at her lip as he withdrew.
"Ginny's going to kill me," she breathed against his mouth and he laughed again.
"I'll deal with Ginny, it's time she realized that nothing is going to happen between her and me. She'll leave you alone if she knows what's good for her."
She looked at him in wonder, not seeming to hear his words. "We're engaged," she whispered in astonishment.
He grinned. "Yes, we are and it's long overdue."
"Let's not wait long to marry."
He eased her to her back and moved over her, bending his head to kiss her lightly. "Whenever you want."
"Okay," she replied, sinking her hands into his hair and pulling him down to her. "Soon."
"Soon," he agreed and lost himself in her kiss.
"Very soon."
* * *