Molly looked up at him. With that look. The same one she’d given him on Drenard over a month ago. The look that back then let him know they were going to escape the alien planet, eschewing a comfortable existence to try and end a war that was too big to contemplate denting. She gave him that look once again, and he found himself wilting.
“Alright,” he said.
Molly smiled and threw her arms around him, sending Wadi juice down his back. “I love you,” she said. “More than you’ll ever know!”
“On three conditions,” Cole said.
Molly pulled away. “Which are?”
“We won’t leave this galaxy until we’re thirty, so you have to give me a dozen years of awesome bliss just living together and not trying to start any trouble with alien races.”
Molly smiled and nodded. “Twelve years,” she said. “I can handle that. What else?”
“You have to let me take you someplace special for our honeymoon.”
“Okay,” Molly said. She continued to nod, and then her head snapped up to gaze at Cole, her eyes wide, her brow wrinkled in confusion. “Wait. Our what?”
“Third condition,” Cole said, sinking down to one knee . . .
