"No, you're not going to sit down." He jerked her upright and into his arms. "I want your knees weak. I wouldn't mind if you babbled too, since you've spoiled my romantic plans of giving you this on one knee in candlelight."
"Oh." She dropped her head on his chest. "Oh."
"Don't cry. I can't stand it when you cry."
"I'm not." To prove it, she lifted her face and showed him she was laughing. "I was going to ask you."
"Ask me what?"
"Jesus, why can't we keep up with each other?" She mopped at tears with her fingers. "That night, I was going to ask you to marry me. I figured it was going to take a lot of work and flare to talk you into it. So I had it all planned. I was going to dare you."
"You're kidding."
"Take off those damn glasses." She snatched them off herself, tossed them recklessly over her shoulder, heard them shatter on the terra-cotta. "I still beat you to it. I still asked you first." Before he could move, she snatched the ring out of his hand. "And you said yes. This proves it."
"I didn't say anything yet," he corrected and made a grab for her. "Damn it, Margo, come here. If I don't get my hands on you, I'll explode."
"Say yes." She danced out of reach, holding the ring aloft like a torch. "Say yes first."
"All right, yes. What the hell. I'll take you on."
He caught her on the fly, whirled her around. And she felt something swirl inside her. No, it's not the spinning, Mum, she thought. It is the man.
His mouth was on hers before her feet touched the ground. "For life," he murmured, cupping her face.
"No. Forever." She tipped her mouth to his again. "I want forever."
He took her hand, holding her gaze as he slipped the ring on her finger. It fit like a dream. "Done," he said.