“Present?” I breathed, and Red began to prance as my seat shifted. My thoughts went to Ivy’s cryptic mood and Al’s odd question. Hell, even Jenks had been acting weird. They knew? “You found a way? When?”
Trent turned to me. Everyone was watching us now as we slowly approached. “It wasn’t so much the nuts and bolts as it was—”
“Viable children?” I interrupted, my pulse fast. “Between elves and demons. Trent. You found a way?”
We were almost there, the crowd parting to show a clear path to where Ray and Keric waited with knowing eyes, the curve of Ray’s smile saying she had been in on it, too, but Trent stopped us, turning to me and taking both my hands. “Rachel, I appreciate that you respected my duty enough that you refused to marry me to prevent the dewar from turning from my counsel, but you have some thinking to do, Ms. Morgan. With the possibility of an heir between us, you can’t hide from me behind duty or a technicality of convenience anymore.”
I couldn’t say anything, stunned. I’d been saying no for so long that I didn’t know how to say yes.
“We’d better go,” Trent said, the rims of his ears becoming red as he realized everyone was looking at us with delight. Pixies had joined the butterflies, and the entire glen began to glow in the rising moon. A great shadow of leather and angles cut across it as Bis back-winged, shifting his flight erratically until I heard Jenks swear when the gargoyle caught him. His red eyes blinked at me across the distance, and he gestured for me to say yes even as he kept Jenks from butting in. Damn it, did everyone know about this but me?
“Trent.” Breathless, I pulled him back to me. I knew I was flushed, and Red bobbed her head, a clear barometer of what I was feeling. “I don’t need to be married to be happy. I don’t need to have a child . . .”
He leaned in and kissed my forehead, and from before us, I heard my mom sigh. “I know that,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “We’ve tried it your way now for over twenty-five years. Can we spend the next twenty-five my way? And if you don’t like it, you can always . . .”
With a little cry, I slid my hand behind his neck and pulled him to me for a real kiss. The assembled people cheered, and I closed my eyes as the sound of pixy wings wreathed us. Give up? Leave? echoed in my thoughts as his lips met mine, holding both a promise and a desire. Never, I answered myself as we parted and, hands still connected, turned to those who meant most to us and were welcomed in between the pixy dust and the blue butterflies.