She shot him a heated look.

"What? I helped her hang a picture last weekend."

"Whatever."

They reached the white granite government building, and Will parked at an empty meter. Courtney licked her lips and tried to pretend she wasn't feeling stupid and hurt. Relationships sucked. She'd known it forever. Why did she keep hoping she'd get better at it?

He cut the engine and turned to look at her. "Courtney."

"It doesn't matter. I don't care. Do whatever you want."

"Do whatever I want."

"Sure. Go screw the girl next door if you want to. I don't care."

"You don't care."

She wouldn't look at him. This was unraveling because she was being one of those hysterical women. But she couldn't help it. What was wrong with her lately?

"Courtney?"

"I don't care what you do. It's your life."

She turned toward him now, and his gaze was intense.

"I think you do care," he said. "I think you care a lot. I think you care way more than you want to, and you're terrified."

She crossed her arms and looked away.

"That's what's going on, isn't it?" he said. "With the blue hair and the smoking and the aromatherapy shit all over the apartment. You're trying to push me away."

She crossed her legs and picked some invisible lint off her black miniskirt. "You sound like Dr. Phil."

"Are you?"

She paused. She cleared her throat. "Maybe."

"Well, cut it out. It's pissing me off."

God, what was her problem? She was a nutcase. She was freaking out over some woman with cookies. She glanced up at him. "I've never lived with anyone before."

"Well, that makes two of us."

"I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I don't know."

"Not everyone's like David, or whoever it is you're comparing me to." He jerked the keys out of the ignition and pushed his door open. "Let's go. We're late now."

She stepped out of the car, and he came around. They started up the wide concrete steps, and he picked up her hand.

She cast a sidelong glance at him, admiring his ramrod straight posture-which always reminded her of his military background-and his way-too-conservative business attire.

"You really don't mind the blue?" she asked.

"I couldn't care less."

"And the aromatherapy?"

"The only thing that bugs me is the smoking." He pulled the glass door open for her, and they stepped into a lobby. "That, I hate."

He led her to an elevator bank and punched the up button. They waited in silence, and she looked at him again. He tugged on his collar.

The elevator arrived, and they stepped inside. He pressed the button for the third floor, and they rode up, with him nervously squeezing and unsqueezing her hand the whole way. The doors pinged open, but she didn't move.

There was something going on. He was acting totally strange. He was nervous, and he didn't get nervous. He could perform triage without even breaking a sweat, and here he was with clammy palms on the way to some informal meeting.

He stepped off the elevator, tugging her with him.

Unless this wasn't an informal meeting. What if this was some kind of setup? Cernak was here. Maybe he wanted to arrest her. Maybe they'd found some new evidence, something new to charge her with.

Her feet slowed as she walked down the long linoleum corridor. She looked at Will, but he had his gaze fixed straight ahead.

She stopped walking and shook off his grip.

"What's going on? You're acting weird."

He turned and looked at her, and his discomfort was written all over his face. He cleared his throat.

"I didn't want to tell you where we were going."

"What do you mean?" she stepped back. "I thought this was a meeting."

"Not really."

She took another step back, but he caught her hand. She looked around, panicked. What was this?

And then she saw it-the door at the end of the hallway with a placard beside it that said marriage licenses.

No way.

She looked at Will. He was gazing down at her patiently.

"Oh my God," she murmured.

He dropped down on one knee and kissed her palm.

"Are we here for a marriage license?"

Her heart was thundering now. Now her palms were sweating. He was on one knee, for Christ's sake!

"I know you're freaked out," he said. "But it's okay. I understand."

"Oh my God."

He took something out of his pocket and slipped it on her finger. A ring. It was a ring. She stared down at the sparkling red ruby flanked by diamonds and felt her throat close up. This had to be a joke. But she looked into his brown eyes, at the seriousness on his face, and knew he wasn't joking at all. He was down on one knee, proposing to her in this hallway.

"When we were in Silver Creek, I told you to jump, and I'd catch you, and you just closed your eyes and did it." He kissed her hand. "I'm asking you to do that again."

She stared down at him, utterly speechless.

"I love you. Please marry me."

And then she noticed someone standing beside her.

Fiona. And Jack. She glanced around at all the bureaucrats who'd stopped what they were doing to smile at her.

She turned to her sister. "You knew about this?"

Fiona smiled and nodded. Jack grinned at her.

Then she looked down at Will again, this giant man who was kneeling before her with his heart in his eyes.

He loved her. He wanted to marry her.

And then she did the most impulsive thing she'd ever done.

She said yes.

Also by Laura Griffin.

THREAD OF FEAR.

ONE WRONG STEP.

ONE LAST BREATH.