He watched her, gradually getting past the astonishment that she wasn’t going to rub his nose in the mess he’d made of things. Remembering the afternoon before, when she’d stood up to him with all that pride and fury shining in her eyes. And the other night, when he’d fallen asleep on her couch—the way she’d looked when she slipped the boy from his arms into hers and carried him into bed.

A dozen other pictures, captured in so short a time, flitted through his head, until they were whittled down to one. This one. Zoe standing at the stove, with the morning sun streaming over her tousled hair, her robe flowing down, breakfast smells warming the room.

How could he have thought he didn’t want this? Just this. And what did he do now that he knew the truth?

“Food should help.” She set the plate in front of him. “I’ve got to get ready for work.”

“Can you— Have you got a minute?”

“I suppose.” She poured herself another cup of coffee. “I don’t have to be in until ten.”

He began to eat while thoughts scrambled in his brain. “This is good. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She leaned back against the counter. “Did you want something else?”

“Yeah.” He ate more, hoping eggs equaled courage. Then he put his fork down. It was the ninth inning, he thought, and there were already two outs. “You. I want you.”

She smiled a little. “Coop, I doubt you’re in any shape for that, and I really have to go to work, so—”

“No, I don’t mean that. I mean I do, but not—” He broke off, took a long, deep breath. “I want you to marry me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I think you should marry me. It’s a good idea.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized, he’d been working on this all along. He had it figured. “You can quit your night job and go back to school if you want. Or open that flower shop. Whatever. I think that’s what we should do.”

“Really.” Because her hand was unsteady, she set her coffee down. “Well that’s very generous of you, Coop, but I don’t have to get married to do any of those things. So thanks just the same.”

He stared. “No? You’re saying no? But you love me. You said it. Twice you said it.”

“We can make it three,” she said evenly. “Yes, I love you. No, I won’t marry you. Now I really have to get ready for work.”

“Just a damn minute.” Hangover forgotten, he pushed back from the table and rose. “What kind of game is this? You love me, your kid’s crazy about me, we’re terrific in bed, I even know how to drive a damn car pool, but you won’t marry me.”

“You’re such an idiot. You’re such a fool. Do you think because I didn’t put up a struggle before I fell into your bed that you can have everything your own way? When you want it, how you want it? Well, you’re wrong. And you are a jackass.”