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Thomas Magnum was in trouble with his girlfriend. This was not a new situation for him. He’d been in trouble with her countless times throughout the years, beginning at – well, the beginning, when they’d hated strongly disliked each other, then when they’d been just business partners, and now, when she was his girlfriend and the love of his life. He thought sometimes that he got in more trouble with her now than he had before they were dating, but that was okay. He liked being in trouble with her; he considered it one of the best perks of the relationship.
He wasn’t sure why he was in trouble this time, but the tone of her voice as she called his name told him in no uncertain terms that danger was afoot.
Then her voice took on an anxious tone, and his stomach tensed. He didn’t mind being in the good kind of trouble, but he never wanted to be the cause of even an ounce of worry on her part. He picked up the pace as he jogged down the stairs. “What’s wrong?”
“Your Valentine’s gift,” she said curtly. “It was left on the porch, and Apollo got into it.” She leaned over the shaking, whimpering dog.
The coil in his stomach grew even tighter. He really didn’t want to be the cause of injury to an animal, even one who occasionally tried to eat him. He hurried forward. “But roses are safe for dogs; I checked! I even asked for the thorns to be removed.”
“Roses?” She glared at him. “It’s not roses, Magnum.”
“It is!” he argued, then stopped when he caught a glance of the offending plant that the unfortunate Doberman had – literally – stuck his nose into. “That’s a cactus.” A very nice, very large cactus.
“Brilliant deduction,” Higgy replied, voice crisp. “No wonder our investigative business is going well.”
“I didn’t order a cactus,” he protested. He didn’t know how this happened…wait. He thought of his visit to the florist and winced.
Luckily, Higgy was fussing over the dog and didn’t see his expression. “Some of the spines are pretty deep,” she said, her voice worried. “I think we’d better not try to take them out ourselves.”
“Right,” Magnum agreed. “You get the car; I’ll bring him out.”
She raised troubled eyes to his. “It’s Valentine’s Day; will the vet even be open?”
He shrugged. “It’s Wednesday. If not, the emergency place is right next door, anyway.”
Nodding, she grabbed her keys and hurried outside. Joining her, he took the wheel so she could comfort the suffering dog. He drove swiftly, dodging traffic while she stroked Apollo’s fur and muttered derogatory things about Valentine’s Day under her breath.
Thankfully, the vet’s office was open. Apollo was carried into the back, while Magnum and Higgy waited anxiously in the lobby. “I’m sure he’ll be okay,” she said, hands twisting fitfully in her lap.
“He’ll be fine,” Magnum assured her, rubbing her back soothingly.
“I just don’t understand what happened,” she fretted. “How could the florist have made such a mistake?”
He knew he would have to tell her, but not here. That was a conversation better suited for home, once Apollo was on the road to recovery. Higgy wouldn’t appreciate the additional upset in public. Not that there was really a cause for upset; his error had been innocent enough. He doubted she’d see it that way, however.
It took a while, with a few more serious emergencies coming in and taking precedence. Finally, Apollo was brought back out to them, a cone of shame around his head and his nose swathed in bandages. He looked up at Higgy with the kind of sorrowful eyes only a dog could truly pull off, and Magnum felt a twist of remorse. He hadn’t meant for this to happen…
The vet went over the medications with them, and the bill was prepared. Magnum insisted on paying.
“Thank you,” Higgy said, once they were settled in the car. “You didn’t have to.”
“It was my plant,” he replied, fingers tapping out a regretful rhythm on the steering wheel.
She bustled around when they reached home, laying out the medications and care plan, coaxing Apollo onto his most luxurious bed, and reassuring Zeus, who hovered anxiously near his brother. When at last things were settled, she looked at Magnum guiltily. “I know we had plans to go out, but do you mind if we cancel? I want to stay with him tonight.”
“It’s fine,” he soothed. “I already called them.”
She bit her lip. “I know you made the reservation a long time ago.”
He had. The restaurant was new and on the fancy side; she’d been wanting to go for weeks. “It doesn’t matter; we can go some other time.”
Now she was the one with the sad puppy eyes. “I’m sorry, Magnum.”
The guilt ate at him. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Taking a deep breath, he prepared to come clean. “Listen, Higgy: I have to tell you something…”
The doorbell rang before he could continue. Sighing, he moved to the door. “I’ll get it.”
To his complete shock and no small amount of trepidation, he found the florist standing outside. “Keoni! Uh…hi.”
The middle-aged gentleman held an enormous flower arrangement and was smiling shamefacedly. “Mr. Magnum. I’ve come to apologize.”
Thomas eyed the explosion of roses that practically hid the petite florist. “Right. Um…it’s no problem.”
The other man shook his head sorrowfully. “I’m so sorry. When you said that Ms. Higgins was a cactus, it somehow got stuck in my head while I prepared the order. When I realized my mistake, of course I had to come make amends.” He gestured with the vase. “I threw in an extra dozen roses, on the house.”
Magnum almost didn’t hear the last part of the man’s apology; it was blocked by the drawn-in breath he heard behind him and the sense of impending doom that descended upon his soul. “Uhh…” When did his voice become dry enough to channel the Sahara? Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Thank you, Keoni.”
The older man nodded, then froze, his eyes growing wide as he looked over Magnum’s shoulder. “Well. It was the least I could do. My apologies, and…haveahappyValentine’sDay!” Saying the last with the air of a desperate, dying man, the florist thrust the bouquet into Magnum’s arms and retreated to the delivery van with an unseemly amount of haste.
The van peeled out of the driveway like the hounds of hell – or at least a pair of affronted Dobermans and their irate owner – were after him. Magnum watched it go longingly, wondering if he dared follow. Finally, taking a bolstering breath, he turned to head back into the house, coming face to face with his girlfriend.
Speaking of faces: hers was completely unreadable. Not good.
Carefully, he sat the flowers on the hall table. If he handed them to her, he wouldn’t be surprised if she poured the vase over his head. Or knocked him senseless with it.
“Higgy…”
“You. Called. Me. A. Cactus???”
The words were even, precise as scalpels, her tone only rising at the end. Her eyes bore down on him like lasers.
He winced. “I didn’t! Okay, I did, but not in the way you’re thinking.”
Folding her arms over her chest, she pinned him with a glare. “Oh, you can’t even begin to know what I’m thinking.”
“I have a pretty good idea.” Running a hand through his hair, he wondered how a simple romantic gesture could have gone so terribly wrong.
It hadn’t even been a particularly big gesture. Flowers on Valentine’s Day were nothing earth-shattering, after all. He’d prepared a lot of other things and had planned to coax her into participating, teasing her out of her objections about the “fake holiday”. Dinner at the fancy restaurant she wanted, with him voluntarily and uncomplainingly dressed in a suit. Then a special dessert at home he’d made just for her, paired with a bottle of wine. He’d thought to wrap the night up with a walk on the beach, then an evening spent in each other’s arms in bed.
The way she was looking at him right now, he might not ever be in her arms again.
Taking a breath, he began. “I went in a couple of weeks ago to order some flowers…”
He’d wanted roses. It might seem uninspired, but he liked roses. They were pretty and smelled good. Classic for a reason. He’d ordered two dozen, under Keoni’s approving eye.
“Timeless. Elegant,” the florist had said.
He’d grinned. “Like my Higgy.”
“A lady, that one,” Keoni had agreed. If he’d thought her an occasionally terrifying lady, he’d kept it to himself.
Nodding, Magnum had pulled out his wallet to pay. As he’d waited for Keoni to ring up the sale, his gaze had wandered over the stock next to the cash register. His lips had quirked up at the corners; he’d always liked succulents. “Of course, sometimes she’s a cactus.”
Now he tried to explain it to Higgy, eyes pleading with her as he attempted to set the scene. “I meant it fondly. It was even kind of…sweet.”
She huffed out a breath. “There’s nothing sweet about calling your girlfriend a cactus.” Try as she might, she couldn’t quite hide the wet sheen in her eyes.
Damn it. “I swear I meant it in a good way.”
The arms she’d originally crossed over her chest in anger now seemed to cradle her torso protectively. “It’s a good thing that I’m…what? Prickly?”
“Yes!” he answered. “To me it is.” When she shook her head, he continued earnestly, “I mean…it’s protective, right? Of yourself, of your home. I like that you can defend yourself.”
Her eyes studied his face. “I suppose,” she said uncertainly.
He nodded. “It’s more than that, though. Cacti are tough. Even when they don’t get water, basically just get left alone in the elements, they survive. Thrive, even.” Taking a chance, he drew close and gently took her hands in his, pulling her arms down. “That’s you. Tough. Strong. Can take care of yourself.” When that drew a small smile, he felt encouraged. “And have you ever looked at them? Each one is different, some of them like nothing you’ve ever seen. Different shapes, different leaves. All kinds of colors. Unique, like you.”
Really getting into the explanation now, he continued, “And then, out of nowhere, they bloom. Gorgeous flowers, colors as vibrant as a Hawaiian sunset. So damned beautiful, it captures your heart.” Taking another chance, he reached out to tuck a curl behind her ear. “Captured mine, anyway.”
She raised glistening eyes to meet his. “Thomas…”
“But the best part…” He traced his fingers over her cheek, across her lips. “They like sunlight. Warmth. They blossom in it. Like you. Not in the rainy cold of London. You’re here, blooming, in the Hawaiian sunshine. In our home. And I’m…” His voice broke a little, as he hoped with everything in him that she believed him. Because it was the truth, was exactly what he’d been thinking at the time. And he’d never, ever meant to hurt her. “I’m so glad. So, so glad that you’re here, that you chose this place. Chose me.”
She looked at him for what felt like forever, then pulled away and walked across the living room to look out the window.
He followed, even as he acknowledged that it might be a bad idea. Higgy usually needed time to make peace with things when she was hurt or angry. But he was horribly afraid that if he let her go this time, the damage might be worse than if he pushed.
She was still as she looked out over the darkened lawn. Hardly seemed to be breathing. Then he heard murmuring and realized she was talking to herself. “…he sees you…what’s been right here in front of you the whole time. What are you waiting for, Juliet?”
Then she squared her shoulders and turned to look at him, and every part of him lit up in anticipation. He loved that look. It was equal parts resolution, commitment, and sheer determination, and it always promised one hell of an adventure.
The look didn’t disappoint. “Thomas, will you marry me?”
His jaw dropped. His heart stopped in his chest, probably to make room for the burst of pure joy that followed. “Will I… Yes. Absolutely.”
Her eyes widened. “You will?”
He nodded vehemently. “Tomorrow, if you want.”
Her face was a picture of confusion. “But you said you were in no rush.”
Something settled inside him. For the first time since he’d come down to find her frantically standing over her injured pet, he felt in control of the situation. Smiling tenderly, he cupped her cheek with his hand. “Juliet. I’ve just been waiting for you.”
Tears filled her eyes; she leaned into his hand. “I love you.”
He couldn’t wait any more. He bent down. She rose up. Their lips met in a sweet, perfect kiss.
When it ended, she pressed her forehead to his. “I know I haven’t done any of this the ‘normal’ way.”
He chuckled. “No, but it’s your way.” He nuzzled her nose with his. “Cactus.”
She smiled, but it was fleeting. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Hush,” he said. “No apologies while we’re getting engaged.”
“But I thought you would ask me,” she said, almost plaintively. “I wanted you to ask me. And I’m sure you wanted to ask, dreamt of doing it the old-fashioned, romantic way.”
“I…” He supposed he had. He’d thought, through the years, of proposing to the woman he wanted to marry; he was a traditional at heart about some things. About romance. But… “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t,” he insisted when she shook her head. “Any way that ends up with us getting married is okay by me. Besides,” he teased gently, stopping her protest, “I was a bit nervous about it. I mean…it hasn’t gone my way, twice, with you.”
She wrinkled her brow. “The second time was Rick and Suzy, not us.”
“Still freaked you out,” he countered.
Her eyes grew sad. “I know. I’m sorr–”
He cut her off with a kiss. “It’s okay; it just meant that I was being extra cautious. Trying to decide how I would know when you were ready.”
Her eyes searched his. “How were you going to ask? You must have had some idea.”
“Ahh…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d thought of some things. Hadn’t solidified anything yet.”
“Tell me?” she asked.
He thought for a moment, then pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. “Tell you what. Give me a few minutes, then meet me outside on the lawn.”
She gave him a questioning look, then glanced worriedly at Apollo, but the dog was sleeping peacefully, snoring gently around the bandages on his nose.
“We won’t be long; he’ll be fine,” Magnum promised. Smiling, he pulled away and headed to his room.
A few minutes later he met her outside the house, as promised. Holding out his hand, he said, “Walk with me.”
It was…them. Magnum and Higgins. Thomas and Juliet. Partners, best friends, and lovers, walking hand-in-hand through the estate that was their home. Tugging gently, he pulled her toward the beach. “I thought I’d keep it simple, private. You wouldn’t want anything flashy or with an audience. Thought about maybe going on a hike, but we can’t do that tonight.” He smiled at her. Squeezed her hand. “But I think this is perfect. Us, on our beach. At home.”
“It is,” she whispered, her eyes shining up at him.
He didn’t…he hadn’t known anything could feel this right. Hadn’t known his heart could be this full. Clearing his throat, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a box. “So…at the right moment, I’d have pulled this out. Told you it was my mother’s.” He opened the box to show her the glimmering ring inside. “I’d have reminded you how you told me that if I ever asked, you’d say –”
“Yes,” she answered, cutting him off before he could even finish. “Yes, Thomas. I’ll marry you.” She held out her hand, fingers trembling. “Yes. Please.”
Chuckling softly, he brushed a kiss to her hair. “Okay. Okay.” Gently – so, so tenderly – he slipped the ring on her finger. It fit, and it was perfect, and she was smiling, and crying, and he might have been, too.
They looked at each other, matching expressions of complete delight on their faces. Her lips turned up in a grin. “So that’s it.”
He grinned in return. “Looks like.”
She held his gaze for a long, breathless moment, then lifted her hand to the moonlight. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”
He was glad. He wouldn’t have minded if she’d wanted something new, but his heart loved the fact that he could provide this part of his family history to her. “It’s been waiting for you,” he said softly. “Like me.”
“Stop,” she protested shakily, wiping at her cheeks.
He looked at her, chest aching with overwhelming fondness. His strong, fierce woman…gentle and soft because she was wearing his ring. Then, because he loved her and knew she would appreciate him lightening the mood, he teased, “Juliet Higgins, you asked me to marry you.” Widening his eyes, he continued in a horrified tone, “On Valentine’s Day.”
Her eyes closed. “I did. God, I really did.” Opening her eyes, she looked up at him. “You’re never going to let me forget it, are you?”
“Oh, absolutely not.” Laughing, he lifted her into his arms. “I’m going to be telling this story for years.”
She scowled. “I could change my mind.”
Grinning, he lowered her, enjoying – very much – the way her body brushed over the length of his. Eyes gleaming, he stated confidently, “You won’t.” Then he took her mouth.
She moaned, her lips softening beneath his. “No,” she murmured. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave in to him. They gave in to each other. “No, I suppose not.”
The next few minutes passed blissfully. Finally, they parted and began to make their way back to the house. Swinging their clasped hands between them, Magnum wondered, “What kind of plant would I be, do you think?”
She gave him a devious look. “Setting yourself up for it there, Thomas Magnum.”
He winced. “I know, but I probably deserve it.”
“You absolutely do,” she said severely, then muttered “cactus” under her breath. She thought for a moment, then her eyes glinted mischievously. “Moss.”
He stared at her, trying to decide if he should be offended. “Moss? Isn’t that a parasite?”
Laughter pealed across the beach. “No, although people often think so. Spanish moss, for example…it’s more of a symbiote.” She grinned evilly at him. “Mooches off of trees, you could say.”
He frowned.
“But…” she stroked her thumb over the back of his hand. “Peat moss, on the other hand…is helpful for succulents.”
He brightened at this. “Yeah?”
She nodded. “It helps ensure that a cactus is getting enough water. Nourishes it.” Raising misty eyes to his, she said softly, “Takes care of it.”
He looked at her. Cupped her face with his hands, then pulled her in for a long, gentle kiss. When it ended, he pulled away just enough to gaze into her eyes. He made a vow, as solemn and sacred as the one he’d just committed to making sometime in the near future. “Always.”
A few months later, he made that second vow. So did she. There were few dry eyes among their friends as they watched two fractured souls find their home in each other.
To the bemusement of their guests, the reception didn’t lean towards traditional décor. Instead, the tables were adorned with colorful, exotic cacti in numerous varieties…each nestled in a base of supportive, nurturing peat moss.