Drummer Boy (13 page)

“Goon face? That really hurts.”

Jane giggled, and Tim clasped her hand, shook the snow from it, and then kept holding it. “I have a better idea.”

“You do? What?”

“Come closer.”

Jane leaned in, and the nearness of his mouth, the soft scent of his aftershave, the smell of yummy
him
, made her heart pound.

His warm breath tickled her ear, making her shiver—or maybe it was the fact she was sitting on the ground, melting the snow—but who knew? She was so close to him she could hardly think straight.

“I think,” he whispered. “That we should, you know, get married. You and me.
Exclusively
.”

Jane bolted upright. “
Marry you?
We haven't even dated.”

Tim sat up, too. “You're right. We've done better than that. Could we have gotten to know each other any better than we do if we called all the hanging out together and working together we did this year
dates
?”

“No, but—”

Tim put a finger to her lips. “Could we have grown closer? Figured out how well we suited each other any better?”

“What about chemistry? How do we know if we're…if we're attracted to each other the way a husband and wife need to be, should be?” Jane couldn't believe she blushed, but she knew how she felt, she needed to know Tim's thoughts.

Tim ran his fingers along the curve of her cheek, down her neck, and back and forth along her clavicle. Then he let his fingers rest in the hollow of her throat.

Jane could hardly breathe.

“Well,” he said slowly. “That might be an issue for you to consider, but for me? It's always been all I could do to keep my hands off you.”

“Is that so?” Jane shifted her position and realized her jeans were soaked from lying on the ground. She didn't care a bit. She moved to sit on her bottom and then figured why freeze any more than she needed to? She plunked down on Tim's outstretched legs. “You hid it pretty well.”

“What can I say? I'm a rock.” He linked his arms around her. “But come on. I'm getting nervous, here.” His searching gaze literally raised her body temperature.

She felt naked, wanted to avert her eyes, but didn't.

“I've always fought getting too close to any one man. I knew—have always known that I didn't want to follow in my mom's footsteps, but then, inadvertently, that's exactly what I've done—sans shacking up, sans having children with miscellaneous men. I've always been someone who loves first kisses, but doesn't stick around for much more than that, or when I've gone out with someone for a bit and they realize that kisses are all they'll get, that I'm not easy, but I'm also not marriage material, well, they hit the road faster than my mom's exes ever did.”

Tim's grip tightened around her, as she continued. “I always wondered if I was defective somehow, but then I met you. The more we hung out, just visiting, or, like you said, working together, the more you seemed to like me. The real me. I've got this ugly arm. I'm flighty and weird and emotional, yet you still seem to think I'm OK.”

“OK?” Tim laughed. “Are you kidding me? You are so far beyond OK.” His voice became earnest. “One day, I hope you'll see yourself the way I see you, the way you really are.”

Jane raised an eyebrow. “And I hope you stay so sweet and deluded.”

“Enough talk, Jane. I've told you how I feel, and I'm cool with whatever you need to do. We can date for another year if—”

“Cool with whatever I need to do? You're sure?”

Tim shrugged. “Yes—”

Jane pushed Tim down onto his back again and kissed him, softly at first, and then not so soft at all. After a few minutes, she stopped and felt very smug and pleased with his exaggeratedly bereft face.

“If you need to do that again, I could probably suffer through it,” he said, breathing as rapidly as she was.

Jane shook her head. “We'll have a lot of years to take care of that chore,” she said.

Tim laughed, and then stopped abruptly. “Wait. Does that mean?”

Jane raised an eyebrow. “As long as, well…” She was suddenly shy, and reached out and traced her finger along one of the white rose buds peeking out of the neckline of Tim's shirt. “As long as you know that you're the only man I need or want—the person I feel God made for me, with love.”

Tim opened his mouth to speak, but didn't. He only smiled broader, shaking his head, squeezing her hand tighter.

“And as long as you promise to never leave me…” Jane hesitated. “And as long as you know that all I can really promise you in the way of so-called wifely qualities is that I'll give you my heart.”

“Jane, Jane, Jane,” Tim said, looking deep into her eyes. “When will you get it through your thick head? Your heart is the only thing I've ever wanted from you.”

Jane couldn't speak.

Tim framed her face with his hands. “So they are no longer two, but one flesh,” he whispered. “What God has joined together, let no one separate.”

Jane let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

“I will never, Jane—so long as God lets me live on this earth—
never
leave you.”

“Then, yes,” she whispered against his mouth. “Yes. I would love to marry you.”

A dull thudding sound against the big picture window made them glance up. Tim laughed. Jane groaned.

Kaylie motioned at them frantically.

“Alas, we've been summoned,” Tim said, but he didn't move to get up. Instead, he took a moment to press his lips against the spot where her neck and her shoulder met.

A current of heat exploded along Jane's skin.

Kaylie pounded on the window again.

“Oh, blast,” Jane said. “We'd better go in and help Candy get dinner on the table. It's a lot of work, and she'll be going out of her mind to have it perfect, as usual.”

“You really love your family, don't you?”

Jane snorted. “Yes, but don't tell them.”

Tim laughed again. “And speaking of telling. When are we going to break the news?”

“Well, I was thinking we could wait until the minute I get inside.”

“That long, Mrs. Steady-to-be?”

“And even that wait is torture, drummer boy.”

“And that'll be our secret, hey? Like in the song?”

“What will be?”

Tim traced the side of her cheek with his finger, and hummed the beat from “Little Drummer Boy.”

“We'll just keep trying to play our best for Him and for each other.”

Jane nodded and didn't even feel like making a joke. “And He will smile at us. It will be more than enough.”

Tim got to his feet, caught her scarred, puffy hand in his, and pulled her up.

Jane leaned into him, loving his clean as line-dried sheets scent.

Along the walkway, tiny white lights sparkled in the hedge and the big Christmas tree in the front window suddenly turned on.

Jane's stomach fluttered with happiness and anticipation. She and Tim finally understood each other. It was a Christmas miracle.

The season they celebrated the gift of Jesus to the world would be, from now on, a time she celebrated another of God's personal gifts—freedom in Him from her old insecurities and hang ups. She might even end up being as big a freak about Christmas as Candy and Kaylie were.

“Early summer wedding?” Tim asked against her hair.

“
Summer
? Are you trying to back out, or what? I'm much more of an as-soon-as-the-snow's-gone kind of girl.”

Kaylie pounded on the glass again, motioning, if possible, even more impatiently. “We're ready!” she mouthed.

Jane smiled over at Tim and then glanced up at Kaylie and gave a thumbs up. “So are we,” she replied. “So are we.”

 

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