Rachel Gibson: Lola Carlyle Reveals All

“Okay,” she whispered, loving him and wanting him so much, no matter the pain. “I’ll try.”

“Try what?”

“Try to live your life,” she said, and leaned her head back against the door. This was what she’d been afraid of. Of looking into his face and wanting him no matter what. Of knowing that the pain of watching him live his life was better than the pain of living without him.

Max slid his hands to the sides of her face and stared into her brown eyes. He’d driven like hell to get to her, and before that, battled terrorists like a man possessed. Because he was possessed. A man possessed with the possibilities of a new life. A better life. “No, Lola. You deserve more than that,” he said. “I handed over my pager this morning. I don’t work for the government anymore.”

She simply looked at him. “What?”

“I’ve decided I want to live long enough to take care of you for the rest of your life. Bring you soup when you’re sick. Comb your gray hair when you get old and can’t do it yourself.”

Typical of Lola, she said, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but I want to take care of you. I want to make you happy and see your smiling face across my pillow every morning. I love you, and I think we can have a great life together.”

Her gaze searched his as if she were looking for more. Something he hadn’t yet said. “But Max, if we fight or you grow tired of me, you’ll regret giving up something you’ve loved doing for a long time. You’ll miss getting shot at.”

“No one misses getting shot at, honey.” He took her hand and kissed the backs of her fingers. “I’ve found something more exciting than blowing things up, something sweeter than an adrenaline rush. Something that is truly worth fighting for.”

“What?”

“A beautiful woman who makes me laugh and feel more alive than I’ve ever felt in my life.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat and the burning in his chest. “I’ve waited my whole life for you, even though I didn’t know I was even waiting. You and I are different sides of the same coin, and you make me feel complete.”

“Max,” she cried, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ve missed you so much. I love you, even though I’ve tried very hard not to. You burst into my life, all macho and scary and beat to a bloody stump. You tied me up, kidnapped me, and I fell in love with you anyway.”

He pulled her tight against him, his heart pounding hard in his chest. He didn’t know what he’d ever done to deserve Lola Carlyle. Nothing good, he was sure. The backs of his eyes stung, and he buried his nose in her sweet-smelling hair. “Honey,” he said, “I didn’t kidnap you. You were commandeered. Just like I’m going to commandeer you for the rest of your life.”

She nodded her head and sobbed.

“Don’t cry.” He pulled back and looked into her face. “I love you, and I want to make you happy. I want to make babies with you.”

Her watery eyes widened. “You want children?”

“Yeah, with you.” He placed both their palms on her flat belly. “Three, and I was thinking we should have all girls, too, seeing how you have an excessive fondness for pastels.” With his free hand, he plucked at the shoulder of her dress. “And doilies, but I think we should get married first.”

She bit the bottom of her lip and smiled. “That’s probably wise. I wouldn’t want people saying I used the oldest trick in the book to trap you into marrying me.”

He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her soft and slow, tasting her lips as he’d thought of doing since shortly after she’d stormed out of his townhouse. He’d missed her and wanted to drink her up in one gulp. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Mmm.” Her eyes were slightly out of focus and she nodded. “Max, let’s go home and tell Baby our good news. He’ll be so happy.”

“Good God, I forgot about your dog. I guess he’ll have to live with us.”

“Max, you know you love Baby.”

He thought about the little wuss. The dog definitely needed a male role model. “Maybe he’s not so bad.”

She smiled and opened the door behind her. “Take me home.”

As he walked out into the North Carolina sunshine, Lola’s hand in his, a smile curved one corner of his lips.

Not so long ago, he’d stood on the burned-out bridge of the Dora Mae , thinking himself cursed with a beautiful underwear model and her sissy little dog. He’d always believed Lola Carlyle would be the death of him.

“We never did get around to watching Pride and Prejudice ,” she said, a teasing glint in her beautiful eyes.

Yeah, she would most definitely be the death of him, but what a way to go.