“Gideon, don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” He was all pretend innocence.
“I know perfectly well how many empty bedrooms we have.”
“Butterscotch can share,” he wheedled. “He ignores his cat tree these days anyway.”
Gideon’s cranky cat had surprised all of us by taking to Jim like he’d been waiting his whole feline life for a best friend. Now he spent most of his days napping with her on her various dog beds, saving up energy to terrorize us at night with a new level of playfulness. He was like a new cat, which was only fitting since I spent a lot of time feeling like a new human myself.
“How about we get married before you start handing out bedrooms?”
“Oh, all right.” He sighed then turned his face toward mine. He frowned, nose wrinkling, and tilted his head. “Wait. You’re serious.”
Angling my body in the direction of our window, I pressed the remote in my pocket. “Deck the Halls” abruptly switched to a song we’d danced to at Brandon’s wedding, one he’d declared his favorite sappy thing ever, even as I’d teased him. But I’d also filed that bit of information away.
“I might have tinkered with your playlist. And your schematic.” I hit the other remote in my pocket, this one for the lights I’d strung earlier on the porch roof directly below us. A golden heart glowed as my heart started to thump.
“You planned this?” Gideon’s voice was full of wonder.
“I did,” I said gruffly. Our rooftop position made kneeling a bit dicey, so I settled for grabbing his hand. “Gideon, will you marry me?”
“Oh.” A glow slowly spread across his face as his lips parted. “But I was going to ask you.”
“So you were.” Somehow, I managed to keep my voice from wavering even as I wanted to pump my fist.
“My method involved ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas.’” He pretended to pout, but he remained lit up brighter than the lights beneath us.
“I had to preempt the flash mob.”
“A few neighbors does not a flash mob make.” He waved his free hand. I held tighter to his other one, both to keep him from flying off the roof and to cover the tremor that raced through me.
“Gideon…”
“I’ll have to cancel the reservation for the geese.”
“Gideon.” My voice came out thin and crackly. “You still haven’t answered me.”
“You mean my yes wasn’t clear?” He blinked like I was missing something obvious.
“Maybe I need to hear it,” I admitted. Gideon wasn’t the only one with fears. Sometimes I woke up in the middle of the night, him snuggled against me, and I couldn’t believe how lucky I’d gotten. I kept expecting him to realize he could do far better, but apparently, he’d chosen me, and now I wanted to hold him to it. I wasn’t letting him go.
“Yes.” He released a giddy giggle that made him sound far younger. “A thousand times yes. We can even elope.”
“No, we can’t.” I glowered at him.
“Sure, people would object, but they can deal.” The setting sun overhead had nothing on the wattage of Gideon’s smile.
“You deserve a wedding.” After seeing him help with Brandon and Elaine’s big day, I’d been convinced he needed an occasion of his own. “After all, we’re almost done putting the house to rights. You need another big project to fuss over.”
“Maybe a small one?” He smiled slyly and his eyes flashed like his brain was already firing off ideas. “The renovated community center could clean up nicely.”
“It could.” Thanks to Gideon’s tireless fundraising, the community center had more than met its goal, and Gideon kept crowing about how the new programming had the neighborhood more connected than ever before. I knew better though. It was all Gideon who had worked his magic over the neighborhood. And me. Most especially me.
“Would Valentine’s be too cliché?”
“It would be perfect. Whatever holiday you want.”
“You. Luckily, I love you, bad puns and all.” Still beaming, he kissed my cheek. “Thank you.”