“I don’t remember asking you to quit being a cop.” The sharp tone of her voice got his attention…and everyone else’s within a ten-yard radius.

Cole rolled his eyes. She was going to make him beg. He was nearly at that point anyway. “Just because you didn’t ask doesn’t mean I can’t read between the lines,” he snarled.

“I don’t think you can read directions to the nearest bathroom, Cole Brownfield. Don’t you dare stand there and tell me you read what I’m feeling.”

She huffed herself up with a vengeance. Cole would have sworn he just saw her grow. It was impossible. But she was really mad.

“Then what’s the big deal? If you love me, and if I love you, then why won’t you marry me?”

“Probably because you never asked,” Debbie said.

Several people laughed quietly, and one woman sniffed into the stunned silence of the crowd, obviously moved by what she would later claim was better than any soap opera any day.

Cole forgot to breathe. She was right! He’d never said the words. But dear God, he’d thought them, right up until Tina Garza had lambasted police work as being responsible for Rick’s condition. He knew that she’d later recanted, but he hadn’t been able to get past her fury. All he’d done was transpose her behavior onto Debbie without giving Debbie the benefit of the doubt.

Cole slid his arms around her, clasping her tightly against him, and nestled her against him. He rested his chin on the top of her head. “I meant to,” he said quietly.

Debbie shrugged. “But you didn’t.” She spoke around a shirt button. Her nose was smashed against his collar bone, but she didn’t care. She’d never thought Cole would hold her again. This was heaven. But he didn’t deserve to be let out of hell. At least, not yet.

“So,” Cole stepped back and stared deeply into dark, accusing eyes, “does this mean that I’m too late?”

She shrugged again.

“Does this mean that everything we’ve shared up to this point was nothing more than a good time? That you can give it up with no more thought than this?”

“I believe that should be my line,” Debbie drawled. “I’m the one who gave and gave with no promises, remember?”

He flushed angrily. He hated it when she was right. He also hated the rumbling of the crowd behind him. Unless he redeemed himself fast… He wondered if tarring and feathering was too outdated to worry about.

“I love you, Deborah Randall.” Cole got down on one knee and tried to ignore the same woman in the crowd who was now sobbing openly. “Will you marry me?”

“I love you, too,” she said, and raked her fingers through his hair, framing his face with her hands.