by Irene Hannon
“No. We need to have a talk with that boy on his next leave. I think he’s lost his sense of humor.”
Living in a war zone could do that to a person . . . yet Finn had held on to his penchant for puns and witty jests until the past few months. He might always have been less vocal than his older siblings—probably because they’d never given him a chance to get a word in edgewise—but his pithy zingers were legendary in the McGregor clan.
“Any idea when he’s coming home again?”
“I haven’t been able to pin him down. I take it you haven’t, either.”
“No.”
“Well, if he’s got something on his mind, we’ll wrestle it out of him the next time we get together. So the storm’s still going strong out there?”
“Yeah.” He forced himself to put his worries aside. He wasn’t going to let anything siphon one iota of joy from his evening. Not Finn, not the storm, not the latest homicide case he’d been handed. This Saturday night belonged to him—and Lisa.
“I better pack my snowshoes, then.”
Mac refocused on the conversation as he flicked on the turn signal for Lisa’s driveway. “What do you mean?”
“Guess which FBI field office will be graced with my presence for my first assignment?”
Mac mashed down the brake and brought the SUV to a dead stop. This deserved his full attention. “You’re coming to St. Louis?”
“Yeah. And I need a place to crash until I find my own digs. Your couch available?”
“You’re coming to St. Louis?” He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the unexpected news.
“You losing your hearing in your old age?” Lance chuckled. “Yes, you’re going to be saddled with one of your younger brothers again—like when we were kids.”
“No complaints on my end.” Mac’s throat tightened. “Man, what a Christmas present.” Almost as good as the other one he hoped to receive before this day ended.
“For me too.” Lance cleared the hoarseness out of his voice. “Anyway, I’ll be arriving a few days after Christmas. I thought we could ring in the new year together . . . unless you already have plans.”
“Lisa and I are going over to Mitch’s. It’ll be us, plus all of his wife’s family. I know you’d be welcome.”
“Any single women in the group?”
“Sorry.”
“No sweat. I’ll have plenty of time to scout out the territory once I get acclimated. Count me in.”
“I’ll let Mitch know. You’re going to Mom and Dad’s for Christmas, right?”
“Yeah. Too bad you couldn’t get away.”
“I’m too new to have much vacation accrued, and Christmas falling on a Wednesday doesn’t help. Maybe next year.” He moved his foot from the brake to the gas pedal and edged forward again, tires crunching on the snow.
“We’ll call you during the day.”
“I hope so. And congratulations again, Special Agent McGregor.”
“Thanks. See you soon, bro.”
As the call disconnected, Mac slid the phone back into his pocket. Then he felt the inside pocket of his sport coat, near his heart, where the small box wrapped in silver foil rested.
Tonight was the night.
And if all went as he hoped, his status would change from single to engaged before this evening was over.
“Sit, Tally. He’ll be here in a minute.” Lisa peered through the back window as the Explorer’s headlights swept across her garage. “Is it Mac you love, or those gourmet treats he always brings you?”
The dog parked his haunches, looked up at her, and cocked his head as if puzzling over the question.
She, on the other hand, had no doubt about the reason for her enthusiasm. Mac might be bringing dinner so they didn’t have to brave the elements for their pre-Christmas feast, but it was the man, not the meal, that set her heart dancing.
When he appeared out of the night, head bent against the wind, she pulled the door open.
He entered in a blustery whorl of white flakes, and she shut the door fast. In just the short walk from his Explorer, he’d become a veritable snowman.
She took the large Art of Entertaining shopping bag from his hands as Tally nuzzled his fingers, the pup’s vigorous tail-wagging making his whole body vibrate. “Someone’s been waiting very eagerly for you.”
Before she could move away to set the bag on the counter, he grabbed her hand and tugged her close. Snowflakes clung to his hair and eyelashes, glistening like stars. Or were the stars in her eyes? “Is he the only one?”
At his husky question, she snuggled closer. So what if she got a little cold and wet from the snow on his jacket? Mac would warm her up.
“I’ve been counting the hours. You did promise me a gourmet dinner.”
He grinned. “That’ll put me in my place.”
She slid her arms around his neck. “Why don’t we start with dessert?”
“Mmm.” He pulled her close. “I like how you think.”
He dipped his head; she closed her eyes. No question about it. Having dessert first was an inspired idea.
Much too soon, however, a wet nose wormed its way between them.
With obvious reluctance, Mac straightened up.
Lisa sighed but didn’t relinquish her hold. “He’s waiting for his treat.”
“So was I.”
Fluttering her eyelashes, she eased back. “The night is young.”
“That sounds promising.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out two biscuits for Tally, who scarfed them down with a happy woof.
“He’s your friend for life, you know.”
Mac slid his hand under her hair and cupped the back of her neck. “How about his owner?”
“More than.” At the warmth in his eyes—and some other nuance that sent a trill of excitement through her—she tipped her head. “You seem especially happy tonight, despite what had to be a white-knuckled trek through the storm.”
“I am.” He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it on a kitchen chair by the heat register. “I just talked to Lance. He’s been assigned to the St. Louis office.”
“Oh, Mac! That’s fabulous news!” Better than fabulous. Over these past few months, she’d come to appreciate how much Mac loved—and worried about—his brothers. Having one close by would alleviate some of that concern.
“I have to admit, it was a great Christmas present.”
“So we have something special to celebrate tonight.”
“Yeah. Celebrating is definitely on my agenda for the evening.”
Unable to interpret his enigmatic look, she moved over to the bag on the counter. “What goodies did you bring us?”
“All safe stuff.” He strolled over.
She read the labels as she pulled out the containers. “Lime and cilantro shrimp kabobs. Artichoke and sun-dried tomato salad. Chicken Florentine. Grilled asparagus. White and wild rice medley. Whole wheat rolls. And . . . is that chocolate cream pie?” She peered into the clear container at the bottom of the bag.
“Yep. The clerk assured me even the graham crackers in the crust are sugar-free.”
“Wow.” She surveyed the feast spread out on the counter. “You went to a lot of trouble—and in this storm too. I can’t believe the place was open.”
“They shut down at noon. I got there at eleven fifty-five. And for you, nothing is too much trouble.” After a moment, he tempered the heat in his eyes with a wink. “Besides, since I met you, I’m learning to eat a lot healthier myself.”
“I’m glad our relationship has been beneficial for your waistline.”
“At the very least.”
“Likewise.” Smiling, she motioned toward the living room. “I set a table by the fire. Would you like to take the kabobs in there and relax for a few minutes after the drive, before we dive into dinner?”
“Sounds good. I’ll get the drinks. Your usual?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
While he filled the glasses with ice, Lisa crossed the room an
d picked up the newspaper she’d retrieved earlier at the base of the driveway. Not that she wanted to introduce unpleasant topics—but the story was on her mind. And it would stay there until they talked it through. “Did you see today’s Post?”
“No. I was on the run all day. Why?”
“I dug it out of the snow an hour ago and paged through.” She handed him the turned-back paper. “Jessica’s still making the news.”
He set the glasses aside and read the brief article. “I’m not surprised she’s appealing—but if you ask me, she got off easy. She should have gotten life, not a mere twenty years.”
“She obviously doesn’t agree—and she’s got a sharp attorney. I’ve run into Deb Shapiro on occasion. One tough cookie, let me tell you. If anyone can get Jessica off, it’s her.” She tried to mask her concern, but as usual Mac picked up on her mood.
He folded up the paper and set it aside. “Not going to happen. I was there during your testimony, and you told a compelling story. Plus, no one can refute the evidence. We might not have been able to get the charges for Erika and Joe to stick, but she’s going to serve time for attempted murder.” There wasn’t one smidgeon of uncertainty in his tone.
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am.”
Her anxiety dissipated. Mac didn’t sugarcoat—and he had sound instincts. She’d take his word for it . . . and trust in God that justice would be done.
Shrimp skewers in hand, she retrieved some cocktail napkins. “You know, even after all these months, I find it hard to believe she tried to kill me.” A muscle in Mac’s jaw flicked at her blunt words, but she’d never been one to dance around reality. It was what it was. “I mean, if she’d simply backed off and played it cool, she’d have been home-free. We were ready to shut down the case.”
“Except you turned her world upside down—and a thirst for revenge can short-circuit reason. Plus, her other plots succeeded. Maybe she figured she was invincible. Problem was, she didn’t factor in the thing that set you apart from her other victims.”
Lisa paused on her way to the living room and flashed him a grin. “You mean my superior intelligence and superwoman crime-fighting skills?”
“Absolutely.” Then he grew more serious. “But you also have a close circle of family and friends who love you and check in on a daily basis. She was used to targeting people who were alone and vulnerable.”
“Mmm.” She continued toward the living room. “Too bad she and Erika and Joe didn’t take their lumps twenty-four years ago. It’s always better to face up to the consequences of your actions.”
When he didn’t respond, she set the shrimp down on the table and turned.
He’d stopped on the threshold. As the soft classical music she’d selected played in the background, he scanned the small, linen-draped table in front of the roaring fire and the candles flickering throughout the room.
“And you said I went to a lot of trouble.”
“It’s our holiday dinner, after all. Christmas will be great at my mom’s, but this is our private celebration. I wanted it to be memorable.”
But truth be told, simply being with Mac created all the romantic ambiance she needed—beginning with that dramatic night here in this house when he’d shifted from colleague to suitor. While she’d slept through the crime scene activity, he’d kept watch, waking her every hour or two to test her blood sugar. He’d followed that up with their first Saturday night date, which had exceeded all of her expectations. And the romance had continued nonstop ever since.
He set down their drinks and turned to her, his gaze warm and tender and everything she’d ever hoped to see in the eyes of the man she loved.
And she loved Mac, heart and soul.
“You know . . . I was going to wait until after dinner for this, but sometimes you have to go with the flow.” He reached into the pocket of his sport jacket and withdrew a small, square box wrapped in shiny paper.
Her lungs locked.
“It’s an early Christmas present—for me as well as for you . . . I hope.” He held it out.
“Is that . . . ?” Her voice faltered.
He pressed it into her hand. “Open it and find out.”
Her fingers were shaking as much as they did when her blood sugar got too low—but sugar wasn’t the culprit for her reaction tonight.
Not that kind of sugar, anyway.
Once she had the paper off, she found a small white box. Inside that box was a velvet case. Slowly she lifted the lid. A marquise-shaped diamond on a platinum band twinkled back at her.
A big marquise-shaped diamond.
“Wow.”
He took her hand, his own fingers none too steady, and she finally looked up.
“I’m not much on speeches. Lance is the one in our family with the silver tongue. But I’ll do my best.” He swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I told you not long after we met that I’d come to St. Louis hoping for a new start. I wanted to settle down, find a wife, and create a family. I’d never told my plan to anyone before—which made me realize that even back then, I knew you were special. Every day since has proven that to me. There isn’t anything about you I don’t love, from your kind heart and great sense of humor to your dedication to justice and your independence.”
He paused. Took a deep breath. “I may not be the best guy you’ll ever find, but I promise no one will ever love or honor you more than I do. You are—and will be—the center of my world until the day I die. And with God’s grace, that will be a long, long way down the road.” He worked the ring out of the box and held it up. “Lisa, will you marry me and let me spend the rest of my life proving how much I love you?”
She could only manage one word—but it was enough. “Yes.”
Exhaling, he slid the ring on her finger and pulled her close, the strong, staccato beat of his heart thumping against her chest. “Man. That was harder than my toughest SEAL mission.”
“Were you really worried I’d say no?” She looped her arms around his neck and lifted her chin, watching the warm firelight dance across his skin.
“A guy never knows for sure until he hears the magic word.”
“Can I add a few more?”
“Of course.”
“I knew from the beginning you were special too. And even though I’d changed my life, hoping to find the same kind of relationship you were looking for, I hadn’t made any effort to reach that goal. It was almost as if I was waiting for you. I think God intended us for each other all along. I love you, Mac McGregor, and I always will—through sunlight and shadows, through laughter and tears, through good times and bad.” She traced her finger over the strong line of his jaw. “Feel more reassured now?”
“I will—after we seal this engagement with a kiss.”
As she went up on tiptoe to meet him, a happy yip sounded from the doorway.
They turned in unison.
Tally was sitting on his haunches, watching the show, his tail sweeping back and forth over the floor.
Safe in the shelter of Mac’s arm, Lisa smiled. “I bet he sees more gourmet dog biscuits in his future.”
A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. “A safe bet. Endless dog biscuits for Tally, endless love for the lady who rescued him—and who stole my heart. Sound appealing?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Then let’s get this show on the road.”
And without wasting another word, he did.
An Excerpt from Book 2
What was that odd shimmer in the night sky?
Christy Reed crested the hill on the undulating rural road and peered at the eerie dome of light above the trees in the distance. On a chilly, clear November evening, the heavens should be pitch black save for the stars strewn across the inky firmament, not tainted by unnatural illumination.
The road dived again, the woods snuffing out her view of the mysterious glow. But the twinge of unease that had compelled her to head to her sister’s tonight instead of waiting until tomorr
ow intensified.
Pressing on the accelerator, she swooped through the dip in the road and shot up again.
At the peak of the next hill, her twinge of apprehension morphed to panic.
Flames were strafing the night sky—in the vicinity of her sister’s house.
Please, God, no! Not again! We can’t take any more trauma!
Smashing the accelerator to the floor, she plunged down the hill.
Only then did she notice the police cruiser at the bottom, angled sideways, blocking access to the narrow road that led to the Missouri farmhouse her sister called home.
She flinched as the harsh flashing lights strobed across her retinas. Lights that screamed emergency. Disaster. Trauma.
All the things that had changed her world forever six months ago.
Fingers clenched around the wheel, she sped toward the vehicle, screeching to a stop beside it.
As a uniformed officer emerged from the shadows and circled around to her side of the car, she fumbled for the auto window opener. Lowered the insulating sheet of glass. Inhaled the smoke-fouled air that leached into the car.
The coil of fear in the pit of her stomach tightened.
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
“I need to get down that road.” Her last word hitched.
“Do you live that way?”
“No. My s-sister does.”
Twin furrows dented the man’s brow. “What’s her name?”
“Ginny R-Reed.”
“Hold on a minute.” He pulled his radio off his belt and melted back into the shadows.
Christy closed her eyes and clung to the wheel, shudders coursing through her.
Please, Lord, let there be some simple reason Ginny wasn’t answering her phones or returning calls all evening! A dead cell. An emergency at work. Anything that’s not connected to this fire.
“Ma’am?”
She jerked her eyes open.
“There’s a fire at your sister’s house. I’ll move my vehicle so you can get through. One of the officers at the scene will meet you.”
Her knuckles whitened as she struggled to suck in air. “Is she okay?”
He shifted from one foot to the other, the leather of his belt squeaking as he rested one hand on his gun. “I don’t know. But they’re doing everything they can to contain the fire so they can get inside.”
