"And don't worry about the boys," Olivia said. "They'll come around once they see how happy Rafe makes you. And if they don't, we'll just have to apply a little pressure, won't we, ladies?"

"The Mighty Quinns aren't so mighty after all?" Keely asked.

Amy ordered another bottle of wine from the waiter, then grabbed a piece of bread and buttered it neatly. "Not when faced by the mighty women in their lives," she joked.

Keely took another sip of her wine, before Olivia filled her glass again. "It's not just my brothers. I have my business in New York. I have responsibilities. It would be hard to pick up and leave. I'd have to reestablish myself there. And I'm not sure Boston is ready for me and my cakes."

"Work is work," Olivia said. "And love is love. Besides, who says you'll have to move here? Maybe Rafe will move to New York."

"Maybe," Keely said. "I guess we never talked about it. I can bake cakes anywhere. And I do love him. And maybe I've been too obsessed with my family's reaction. They're not going to kick me out of the family, just because I marry Rafe."

"We won't let them," Meggie said.

Keely pulled her napkin off her lap and tossed it on the table. "I-I need to go."

"But we haven't had lunch yet," Olivia protested.

"I can't stay. I have a cake to make."

"Your customer can wait," Meggie said.

Keely shook her head. "Nope, not this customer. I have to make a wedding cake for me. I'm going to marry Rafe Kendrick."

"When?" they all asked.

"I don't know. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day. But soon."

Keely gave each of them a quick kiss goodbye, then hurried out to the lobby. She found her coat at the coat check and quickly slipped into it. If she grabbed the subway out to Brooklyn, she could start working on the cake right away. By tomorrow morning, it would be done and on its way to Boston. After all, she couldn't possibly get married without a proper cake. It would be bad luck.

"I'm going to marry Rafe Kendrick," Keely murmured to herself. "I'm going to marry Rafe Kendrick and to hell with what my family thinks."

RAFE SAT at his desk, his feet kicked up on the edge, the Wall Street Journal open in front of him. He tried to concentrate on the article he was reading, but he'd started and stopped so many times he was ready to give up completely. Interest rates on municipal bonds would have to wait. With a soft curse, he swung his feet off his desk and refolded the paper.

He'd been working so hard lately, throwing himself into projects simply to occupy his mind with something other than Keely. He blamed himself for their fight and their broken engagement-even though they never really were engaged, not officially. She had warned him against his ultimatum, yet he'd refused to back down. And when he'd emerged from the shower, she'd been gone, her engagement ring left behind on the bedside table. The message was clear. As far as she was concerned, it was over.

So where did he go from here? Rafe had done everything he could to convince her that they belonged together, short of standing out on Boston Common in his boxer shorts and shouting his devotion to the world. They'd just fallen in love at the wrong time. Until she worked out her worries about her family, he'd always come in second.

If he didn't have an ego, then maybe he could put himself second. Maybe he could go on as they had, carrying on an affair outside her family's knowledge, never really committing themselves fully to a relationship. But if he was willing to put Keely first in his life, he expected the same from her.

Rafe pulled his desk drawer open and withdrew the small velvet box. He wasn't sure why he'd kept the ring. Maybe he still held out hope that Keely would wear it one day. He did have a money-back guarantee with the jeweler so he wouldn't have to worry about the ring turning into a constant reminder of Keely. When he was ready, he'd simply return it and that would be the end of that. Maybe he'd take a nice vacation with the money. Somewhere warm with the maximum number of beautiful women in the minimum amount of clothes.

A knock sounded on the door and Rafe tossed the ring back into the drawer along with the box. A few seconds later, Sylvie entered carrying a large package. "This was just delivered for you."

"What is it?"

"I don't know. It's marked personal and confidential." She set it on his desk. "Should I open it?"

"Why not? Isn't that what 'personal and confidential' means? 'Sylvie may open this package."'

Sylvie rolled her eyes then ripped the top off the box. She peered inside, then frowned.

"What is it?" Rafe asked.

"I'm not sure." She reached down then pulled her hand back and stuck her finger in her mouth. "I think it's a cake. Only it looks like a pair of shoes and a shoe box. Loafers, I think."

Rafe stood up and looked into the box. Then he stepped back and laughed. "Italian loafers. Made in Milan. Keely sent this."

"She sent you a cake that looks like shoes."

"The night we met, she threw up on my shoes. Ruined a very expensive pair of loafers. She promised to get me a new pair."

"Oh, that's so sweet," Sylvie said.

"Yeah," Rafe murmured. "It is." The ball had been in her court and she just hit it back, Rafe mused. So things weren't completely over between them. He raked his hand through his hair and shook his head. "That woman could drive a man seriously insane."

"The frosting is absolutely sinful," Sylvie said. "Can we eat it now or is it just to look at?"

"It's supposed to be enjoyed," said a soft voice. They both turned. Keely stood at the door, a sly smile on her face.

She was dressed for the cold in a long wool coat, a slouchy hat and a wildly patterned scarf. "It's a banana cake with a ganache filling." She met Rafe's gaze. "I told you I'd get you a new pair of shoes. They're not Italian, but they taste a lot better."

Rafe stared at her for a long moment. Though he'd tried not to think about her over the past week, he'd never been able to get her completely out of his head. And now he knew why. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever known and the only woman he'd ever love.

He slowly walked over to her and tugged off her hat, then pulled the scarf from around her shoulders.

Sylvie looked between them both. "I think I'll go see if I can find a knife and some plates." She hurried out of the office, closing the door behind her.

"It's a nice cake," Rafe murmured. "You're very talented."

"It's an original design," Keely said. "One of my specialty wedding cakes."

Rafe's eyebrow rose. "A wedding cake? For whom?"

"For us. I figure if we go get the license today we can get married on Thursday."

He stared at her for a long moment. "You mean it?"

"I do," Keely said. "I don't want to wait until my mother and father and brothers approve. I want to get married now, Rafe. I want to prove to them that you're in my life for good and there's nothing they can say that's going to change that. I love you and that's all that matters."

"But don't you want a big church wedding?"

"It doesn't make any difference. I never thought I'd say that, but it really doesn't. What matters is that we'll be married and we'll be able to start our life together. So, will you marry me, Rafe?"

"I will, Keely."

She wrapped her arms around his neck. Rafe couldn't believe that it was really going to happen, that Keely would finally be his. He hugged her tightly, then kissed her slowly and thoroughly, until he'd finally convinced himself that he wasn't imagining the whole thing.

Keely tipped her head back and looked into his eyes. "I want my ring back," she said. "You better not have returned it to the jeweller."

"It's in my desk."

Keely slipped out of his embrace, then began to search through desk drawers. Rafe bent over and pulled the middle drawer open, then fished the ring out of his pile of paper clips. "You're going to leave it on this time, aren't you?"

"Just try to get it off me." Keely held out her hand and Rafe slipped the ring on her finger. Then she pressed her palm to her heart and smiled. "So, what should we do first?"

"Have you told your parents?"

Keely shook her head. "Nope. And I'm not going to. You and I are going to get married and if they don't like it, then they can…go to hell."

Rafe reached out and took her hand. "Maybe you should think about this, Keely. They're going to be pretty angry if you just run off and marry me. They're going to think I talked you into it."

"Well, you did," she said. A frown wrinkled her brow. "Are you backing out now? I thought this was what you wanted."

"Of course it is. But is this the way to go about it?"

"This is the way I want it," Keely said. "I used to think I wanted a huge wedding, the more elaborate the better. But I've realized that it's not the wedding that's important. It's the marriage. I want to be married to you, Rafe. For now, till death do us part and happily ever after. So let's just do it."

"All right," Rafe said with a smile. He cupped her face in his palms and gave her a quick kiss. "Where?"

"Here in Boston, at the courthouse. I called about a license. There's a three-day waiting period, so if we go down today and apply, we can get married in three days."

"All right. But if we have three days, then I think we should at least make it special."

"All right," Keely agreed. "I'll buy a dress."

"And I'll get you flowers. And what about a honeymoon?"

"I don't know," she said. "We might have to put it off for a while."

"I'll take care of the honeymoon."

Keely smiled. "Then that about does it. We've managed to plan our wedding in what-ten seconds? That's got to be some kind of record."