Plan (13 page)

“My wife would pick out the furniture, not Kathryn.” Randy ran a hand through his hair, obviously frustrated. Then he looked up at her, and he snapped his fingers. “You think I'm marrying Kathryn.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Well, aren't you?” Rachel asked.

“No. Kathryn's my sister.” Randy's smile went from ear to ear.

“Then, if you aren't marrying Kathryn, who's picking out the furniture?”

“You are, you silly woman,” Randy said, the grin getting wider by the minute. “Why do you think I brought you over here tonight? Why do you think I had this room decorated to your exact description?”

“I don't know,” Rachel said, dizzied by what he was saying.

“I did it because I love you, Rachel Grant, and I want you to help me fill this house with love, and furniture, and children.” He crossed the room and grasped her shoulders firmly in both hands. “Will you marry me?”

Rachel stared into his eyes and began to shake. He pulled her closer into his arms to hold her steady.

“Rachel?” he questioned. She stared at him in shock until he shook her firmly. “Rachel, are you all right? Speak to me.” She took a deep shaky breath.

“Yes.”

“Yes, you're all right, or yes, you'll marry me?”

“Yes to both questions.” He hesitated about a second before he took her in his arms and kissed her. It felt like home.