Rolling onto her back, she stretched luxuriantly, hands hurriedly dropping to tug her pajama top down a little way, self-conscious of the stretchmarks that adorned her slender waist. "I think that sounds like a lovely idea," she smiled to him, tugging her fingers rather brutally through the tangles in her hair. "W-would you like to stay with us ....with me ....tonight?"

"Are you sure you're ready for that?" he asked, reaching over to help her untangle her hair, far more gently and effectively than she was doing. It wasn't just her he was wondering about though, but her father and sons, as well. What would her father think of someone sleeping with his daughter, even if that was all they were doing was sleeping"

Surprised to find his fingers in her hair, she submitted easily to his gentler touch, letting him wrangle those knots free as she met his gaze. "Yes, I am," she assured him. "I wouldn't ask if I wasn't sure." As to her father, well ....chances were Gordon Granger would be delighted to meet the man who had brought his shy daughter out of her shell in the past weeks, and not at all inclined to judge him harshly on whatever might happen behind closed doors.

"All right then, but first breakfast," he said, leaning close to brush a kiss against her lips. There was no reason to rush; they had all day. He let his lips linger against hers for a long moment, though that was not the breakfast he was promising her.

Giggling softly, Gabi curled her arms around his neck as he leaned in to kiss her, not allowing him to draw back as that kiss deepened slowly. Her fingers trailed into his hair as her lips moved beneath his, offering up far more than a simple good morning. There was no denying the quickening of her breath, or the beat of her heart, as she drew herself close once again, unafraid of those feelings in his arms.

There was no denying his own reaction to that kiss, matching that of hers. This was what people meant when they talked about sparks. He'd been with a few other women before, but none of them had ever made him feel anything like what he felt when he kissed Gabi. After a long moment, he reluctantly broke the kiss, if only to take a breath, smiling warmly and affectionately. "Do you know you are the loveliest, kindest, gentlest, most caring woman I have ever met?" he asked, knowing there was no real answer for that.

A little breathless, she lingered close to him, reluctant to ease away even a little bit as he spoke to her, the tip of her nose circling his as her hands smoothed through his hair. "I do now," she whispered to him, seemingly unaware of the way her knee had shifted to tuck close against his hip. "You mean the world to me, George."

His smile softened, deeply touched by her words, even if she had admitted she wasn't ready to jump in with both feet yet. They'd only met a few weeks ago; there was time enough for love. "I'm going to marry you someday, Gabi," he told her, matter-of-factly. It wasn't exactly a proposal, but it was a promise of sorts, and coming from a man who had never been interested in marriage in the slightest until now.

The expression on her face softened into something awestruck as she looked up at him, not disbelieving but truly amazed that he had so much faith in her. In them. "Really?" she asked, her voice tiny in the quiet wrapped around them. "You'd really want to marry me?"

Maybe it was too soon to ask. He didn't want to pressure her or to make her feel like they moving too fast, and yet, he needed her to know how he felt. After all, if she didn't feel the same, what was the point' They might always be friends, but for the first time in his life, he wanted something more. "Yes, is that so hard to believe?" he asked, matching the quiet in her voice as he brushed a caress against her cheek.

For long moment, Gabi didn't know what to say. She'd resigned herself to being alone, to being just a mother, for so long; it was difficult to believe that she was falling in love with him, that he was falling in love with her. That he wanted to marry her, despite knowing for sure that she was damaged goods. She couldn't help the tears that welled up as she wrapped her arms around him, holding on tightly. "It's wonderful."

"I'm-I'm not trying to rush you, Gabrielle," he hurried to add, worried she might think he was trying to pressure her into something she wasn't ready for. He remembered what she'd told him about the boys' father, and he didn't want her to think he was doing the same. "I can be patient," he told her. "I will wait as long as it takes."

"I ..." Drawing back, she wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her pajamas, smiling as she shook her head. "I thought I would be alone for the rest of my life," she admitted to him tearfully. "I thought that ....that no one would ever look twice at me, not once they knew about the boys. But you have. I don't want to wait, but we have to. We have to give the boys a chance to love you, the way I do."

He frowned a little as she wiped her eyes, hoping those were happy tears he was seeing. "You don't ever have to be alone, sweetheart," he told her with a gentle caress of her cheek to wipe away what remained of her tears. Back home, it would be scandalous to marry someone like her - to even have his name connected in any way with someone like her. She'd have been branded a wanton woman by those in society's upper crust, but he had never cared much about what society dictated, and he had seen too much suffering to care. He couldn't help but smile as she used the L-word again, without even realizing it. "Well, perhaps not exactly the way you do," he teased, tapping a finger against her nose.

Sniffling, she laughed at his tease, curling into his arms once again. "No one will ever love you the way I do," she promised him fervently. "If you want to marry me, even knowing that I'm damaged goods and I don't deserve you, then I can't think of anything more wonderful."

His smile faded a little, not because he wasn't happy that she loved him, but because of the way she was putting herself down. "Don't talk like that, darling. Of course, you deserve me. If anything, it's I who don't deserve you." He wasn't sure what she meant by damaged goods. It was a phrase he wasn't overly familiar with, though he could suss out the meaning. Was it just because she was an unwed mother" If it was, he didn't think that marked her as damaged.

She was so used to being told not to put herself down that she barely noticed the words anymore, raising her head to kiss him tenderly. "You deserve so much more than a coward with so much baggage hanging on," she tried to explain. "I will try to be who you need me to be, what you want. I promise I'll try."

"Gabi," he started, not letting it go so easily. She meant too much to him to see her hurting like this, lying to herself, blaming herself. "Please. You aren't a coward. You are quite possibly the bravest person I know."

"I'm not brave," she told him, shaking her head with a smile. "I'm stubborn, and I make wrong decisions all the time. Of every decision I've ever made, asking you to lunch was the best." Her fingers stroked against his cheek as she looked up into his eyes. "I don't need to be brave with you. I feel safe."

The silvery marks that marked her skin neither surprised nor repulsed him. He was a doctor, after all, and had seen far worse than a few marks left over from childbearing. In point of fact, he would have been more surprised and dismayed to find she was perfect and lacking any flaw, however slight. He saw those marks almost as a badge of courage, proof of the children she'd seen fit to bear, and though they weren't his, he hoped someday he might be lucky enough to give her another - a child born of their love - but for now, that was only a hope, a wish, a distant dream. As for himself, most of his scars were invisible to the naked eye - scars of the heart and the mind and the soul; wounds he had buried deep inside where no one could see them or know they existed.

He paused a moment to admire her loveliness, fingers gently tracing the lush curves and valleys of her body. She wasn't as voluptuous as some he had known, but he found her to be perfect in every way, despite her own perceived flaws. Turning her onto her back, he returned her kisses and caresses with fingers and lips, tender and gentle, his breath like a warm summer breeze caressing her flesh, his fingers knowing just what to do to tease and tantalize.

There was no way to mistake the way she stilled as his touch found the pliable softness of those marks at her waist, the way her breath caught in her throat as he found them with his gaze, seeing them only as flaws that made her ugly. Yet he didn't turn away; to her surprise, he traced them with as much affection as he covered the rest of her with, swallowing her tender moan in fresh kisses as she found herself turned onto her back, her own hands eager to divest him of his shirt as she writhed eagerly beneath him. He seemed to know exactly how to touch her, how to turn those touches into teasing caresses that set her aflame as she arched into him, his name on her breath.

He was a surgeon and as such, knew how to use his hands, not only to deftly and carefully mend flesh, and he put those hands to good use giving her as much pleasure as he could. Kisses followed, starting at her lips and working their way slowly downward, exploring her body with lips and tongue and teeth, until there was nothing left to explore. He paused for only a moment, as he debated whether or not to go further, as if he was waiting for her to give him some sign that she was ready and willing.

He reduced her to soft moans and eager hands, held back from reciprocating those touches by the sheer sensuality of his exploration of her, the intimacy with which he seemed to be memorizing every inch there was to learn. And when he paused, she wanted to take advantage of that moment, only to find her hips lifting, inviting him to remove the last barrier hiding her entirely from his view, despite the blush that lit up her face.

No words needed to be spoken. No words to ruin the mood or make either of them change their minds. They were halfway there already, and there seemed no point in stopping now that they'd both gathered the courage to get this far. He knew they were hovering on the point of no return, but her body language seemed to be telling him that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. Still, there was a part of him that needed to know for certain. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he warned her, before going any further.

"Don't stop." The words came without needing to be summoned, blurted out on her breath as she reached for him. "Please ....don't stop." The point of no return, perhaps, but there was nothing to fear beyond that point, for either of them. They had both been there before; to go there together would surely be wonderful.

He had no doubt it would be wonderful, but it was crossing a threshold they had yet to cross, and yet, they had already spoken of love and the future, and this sharing could surely only serve to bring them closer together. Despite what he'd been raised to believe, he thought that the joining of a man and woman who were in love was a sacred act and not to be taken lightly, but then he had already told her his intentions. This wasn't just about passion and desire; it was about sharing and trusting and loving each other. All he needed was her word, and with that said, he hesitated no longer, freeing her at last for further exploration as he sought to discover the innermost secrets of a woman's soul.

It had been a long time since Gabi had trusted anyone as much as she now trusted George, baring everything she had for his exploration - mind, body, heart, and soul. She held nothing back from him as he uncovered her, daring to be more vulnerable with him than she had ever been with anyone, not even trying to hide the soft sobs that rose beneath her expressions of pleasure at how delicately he took her into his hands.

And take her into his hands, he did - masterfully, tenderly, lovingly. Kissing and caressing until she was practically sobbing with pleasure. Only then, did he dare to take the next step, only when he was sure she was ready, when he was sure of what she wanted. There was no hesitation in him this time, though it took a moment for him to get rid of the last vestiges of clothing that still covered him and kept him from her. It was her last chance to stop him, if she so wished, and as he bared himself to her, as she'd done to him, he found himself blushing, not with embarrassment so much, as with the fear that she would not like what she saw.

Shaken to her core by how well he seemed to know her, though he had never laid hands on her before, she rose to meet him as he bared himself to her. There wasn't even a moment of hesitation, her soft smile as much a reassurance as it was an invitation as she opened her arms to him once again. "Lie with me?" she asked, her smile a sweet echo of the smile that had lulled him to sleep the night before. He was nothing but a miracle to her eyes, and she hoped he could see that. No matter the burdens he carried, or the unseen scars he bore, she loved him all the more for giving her the chance to see him, the way he had seen her.

A small frown twitched at his lips, though his desire was plain to see. Perhaps it was better if he did as she asked and let her decide where they'd go from here, rather than take her himself without a word. "Gabi, I ..." He trailed off, moving to lie beside her and take her into his arms once again. If it was going to happen, it would happen, and if it didn't, they had the rest of their lives. And there was always a cold shower.

She bit her lip, unable to keep a faint smile from her face. "Not quite what I meant, love," she told him as he lay down beside her, slithering about to lie atop him. Her lips touched the tip of his nose. "I thought it sounded more romantic than f*ck me." Giggling, she kissed him, easing up to take him in hand, as it were. Who was this confident woman, and what had she done with Gabrielle, he might have wondered. Or he might have tried; she didn't give him much opportunity for thought as she took him into herself with a tender cry of pleasure.

He gasped aloud at her bluntness, but then he was laughing and returning her kisses, at least until he felt her touch him in the most private of places, and he gasped again, exhaling a soft groan against her lips. How long had it been since he'd laid with a woman' Months" Years? It seemed like forever, though at the moment, he couldn't recall a single one. Taken in hand, such as he was, he only sighed in contented pleasure as she had her way with him, allowing her to use him however she saw fit.

Though she seemed so confident, she had never been in charge in such a situation before, always guided and told what to do. Left to trust her own instincts, she hesitated for just a moment, daring to straighten her back and rise above him as her hips found a rhythm she hoped was what he wanted and needed. She was not left unaffected, her head falling back in an unconscious display of her own form as she rocked above him, her hands restless over his chest, his sides, needing something to hold onto, afraid to grip too tightly in case he was a dream that might slip through her fingers.

Despite how very intimate they had been together very recently, she still blushed brilliantly at the affectionate pat to her bare rear end. "We should," she agreed, laughing at her own blush. "Before we end up delaying breakfast even more. Shoo, you promised me food." With a teasingly imperious flick of her hand, she waved him away, giggling as she rolled over to try and get off the other side of the bed without retaliation.

He laughed, both at her blush and at the shooing, dropping a kiss against her nose before rolling off the bed to fetch his own pajamas from the floor. He wasn't particularly comfortable in his own skin, thinking he was a little too tall and too gangly to be considered attractive, though she'd voiced no complaints as yet. He knew he was more boyish than manly, not nearly as handsome as his brothers had been, though that had been something of a relief when he'd been younger, preferring his studies to the endless soirees and social gatherings of his mother's. "How would you like your omelette?" he asked as he tugged his pajama bottoms up over his legs, his back facing her to save them both from embarrassment.

Her own hand claimed the first pajama shirt that came to mind, which turned out to be his, hanging lower on her than she had expected, but thankfully low enough that she didn't feel too exposed when she turned to look at him. Shaking the sleeves back from her hands, she smiled. "I am not a great fan of mushrooms," she admitted, tucking the tangle of her hair back from her face as she padded quietly around the bed. First stop, her phone, and easing the panic attack her father was no doubt having.

Seeing as she had "borrowed" his pajama shirt, he snagged a t-shirt and tossed it on over his head instead, mostly due to an over-active sense of modesty, rather than any real need. "That makes two of us," he replied as he headed toward the door. "Try not to use up all the hot water," he warned, winking over at her before he disappeared from view.

Her giggle followed him from the room, and for a long moment, Gabi just stared at the place where he had been standing. Then she let out a loud laugh, dropping backward onto the bed once again with a deeply contented sigh, reaching for his pillow to hug it close to her as she grinned against the soft cover. What a difference a day made, or in this case, a night. No more uncertainty, no more fear of being alone. Life really was what you made of it, and for Gabi, it didn't get better than this. And just think ....it had all happened because she'd lost control of her sons briefly in a busy cafeteria. Not exactly the flirting technique suggested by the Post, but what the hell. She was in love, and better yet, he loved her. Who, really, needed more than that"

((Looks like the Grangers are getting bigger all the time, don't it' Huge thanks to George's player for this scene!))