These Boots Weren't Made for Walking (33 page)

“Cool.”

“And if you're not busy.

“Hopefully I'll be busy with you!”

“Well, it's a date then.”

And is it ever a date! A date that lasts the entire weekend, starting with Friday night happy hour at the brewery, then skling at Black Bear Butte on Saturday, followed by an amazing dinner at Petit Ours Noir that night, which Will totally loves. He picks me up for church on Sunday morning, and Bridget invites us to join her and Ross for lunch at her house afterward. As it turns out, it's a celebration lunch: they did get engaged last night!

By Sunday afternoon, Will and I are standing in front of my mom's house, and I don't want to let him go. “It went by so fast,” I tell him.

“I'll come again next weekend,” he promises as he kisses me good-bye. It's not our first kiss, and I know it won't be our last. But, honestly, I think I could kiss this man forever.

Finally I pull myself away and tell him to drive safely. “Say hello to your mom for me.”

“That's right,” he says suddenly. “She wants to meet you. I told her that before she trips on down to Florida, I should bring her over. Would you mind?”

“I'd love to meet her.”

By spring break I have met Will's mom, a completely delightful woman who recently bought a wonderful condo in Key Largo and wants Will and me to come visit as soon as she and her friend are settled. I also found the perfect spot for Will's business. It used to be a shoe shop and is on Main Street and has a tiny apartment upstairs. The architecture is absolutely charming, and Will fell in love with it and immediately put down a deposit. My mom, our Realtor, says it should close in April, and Will plans to be finished packing up his family home by then.

In the meantime I tried to give Ross my notice, but he talked me into becoming a freelance marketing consultant for him and others, which actually sounds rather nice to me. He feels that my marketing expertise and creativity might be useful to several businesses in town, including Alex's French restaurant, which is still struggling. But, I assured him, my main priority is going to be Will and his business. I'm already putting together a marketing plan that's going to totally rock.

Just a couple of weeks ago, and not long after getting engaged, Bridget and Ross shocked everyone by eloping to Las Vegas. At first I was slighdy alarmed by this unexpected move, but they seemed totally happy when they got back. Ross actually walks around the lodge whistling and even goes home early sometimes, so I think it must ve been a good decision. Plus Ross has been coming to church with her.

The happy consequence of their hasty marriage is that Bridget honored her promise to rent her little bungalow to me with an option to buy. On April first I actually move into this darling cottage.

The weather is perfect, and I am happier than I've ever been as I unpack boxes and spread what few furnishings I have around this adorable house. Last week Will talked me into keeping some furniture he's decided to save from his family home. He would put them in his apartment over the shop except that its about the size of a postage stamp, and he plans to keep it minimalist. “It'll save renting a storage unit,” he told me. “That is, if you don't mind.”

“Just no old lady things,” I warned him.

He nodded and grinned. “You mean you don't want the old pink Victorian lamps with tassels? Not the rose-colored sofa with its ruffled pillows?”

I frowned at him and wondered what I was getting into.

But when he backs the moving van into my narrow driveway this afternoon and starts unloading, I know I've hit the jackpot. “These belonged to your family?” I ask, astounded as he unloads another amazing mission-style piece. This one is a narrow table
that looks stunning in the small entryway. I can't wait to put a lamp and vase of flowers on it, maybe a mirror above it.

“My mom was really into the craftsman style for a while, but she wants something less heavy and dark for Florida,” he says. “But I've always liked Gustav Stickley, as well as Frank Lloyd Wright.”

“I
love
Frank Lloyd Wright,” I exclaim. “And those pieces are totally perfect in here.”

“So you're not wishing for those Victorian lamps and the rose sofa?”

“You
were
pulling my leg.”

“A little.” He pauses after setting a leather-covered craftsman recliner by the small fireplace, then pulls me into his arms. “So you like my furniture, huh?”

“I
love
your furniture!” Then I frown slightly. “But what happens when you get your own place? Do I lose all this?”

He laughs. “Not if you agree to marry me.”

I blink, then stare at him in unbelief. Did he really just say what I think he said, or am I hallucinating?

“So to keep the furniture,” I repeat, “I have to marry you?” I use a teasing tone—just in case I really am confused or delusional. After all, I remind myself, this
is
April first.

Will fakes a hurt expression. “You mean you'd marry me just to keep my furniture?”

“It's awfully nice furniture,” I say, kissing him gently on the lips. “But even if you gave it all away, Will, I'd still marry you.”

“So can I take that as a yes?”

I nod. “Unless this is some ill-planned April Fools’ joke. It better not be.”

He seals the deal with a slow, passionate kiss. “This is no joke, Cassie. I might ve been fooled a few times in my life, but this is the real deal. I love you. You are the only one for me. I'm absolutely positive about that.”

“Me too,” I say quiedy, suddenly remembering my goofy analogy of the toe-pinching Valentinos that were a big mistake and how they compared with my snuggly, comfy Uggs that I could wear forever. I'll probably never tell Will about my crazy litde metaphor. But it works for me—this guy is a perfect fit!

“I love you!” I tell him, wrapping my arms more tightly around his neck. “You're the only one for me!”

M
ELODY
C
ARLSON
is the award-winning author of over one hundred books for adults, children, and teens. She is the mother of two grown sons and lives near the Cascade Mountains in central Oregon with her husband and a chocolate Lab retriever. She is a full-time writer and an avid gardener, biker, skier, and hiker.