by Irene Hannon
Only when they were fifty feet from the emergency crews did he shorten his stride.
“Colin’s here.” She stared at her childhood friend waiting on the other side of the tape among other law enforcement personnel and emergency crews, fists clamped to his hips.
“I know.”
“Is that the safe zone?”
“Yes.”
A shudder rippled through her. “Half an hour ago, I didn’t think this was a remotely p-possible outcome.” She looked up at him. “I have a lot to say to you.”
“I have a lot to say to you too—but it’s going to have to wait awhile. Can I interest you in a pizza later?”
“If it’s takeout at my place.”
“Consider it a date.”
When they were ten feet from the tape, Colin ducked under and charged toward them, lifting Kristin off her feet and into a bear hug as he carried her to safety.
“Luke.” Nick motioned him over.
Since Kristin was in excellent hands, he joined the agent on the other side of the tape, removed his helmet, and waved over the County bomb crew. “I need to ditch this get-up. It’s not made for St. Louis summer heat.”
“Not a problem. I know we’ve both had a long day—and night—and day, but after we get Ms. Dane some medical attention, we’ll need to do a fast debrief with her.”
“I’ll let her know.”
Five minutes later, free of the suit, he jogged toward Colin and Kristin.
“Yes, you do need medical attention.” Colin glared at her while two paramedics hovered in the background.
“No, I don’t. I already told you. I have a few cuts and bruises. That’s it.” She glared right back.
“What’s the harm in letting them do a fast evaluation? That’s their job.”
“Only for legitimate patients. I’m fine.”
Colin spotted him. “She won’t let the paramedics check her out. Maybe you can talk her into it. I’m getting nowhere.” He scowled at Kristin, exasperation oozing from his pores.
Luke draped an arm around her shoulders. Up close and without the helmet and visor impeding his view, the bruise on her jaw was much more pronounced—as were the cuts on her wrists. But otherwise she appeared to be unharmed.
Thank you, God.
He picked up one of her hands and examined her wrist. “It might not be a bad idea to at least let them put some antibiotic ointment and bandages on these.” He gave her his most persuasive smile. “It would make their trip worthwhile and keep your friend happy.”
She maintained her rigid stance for a few moments—and then every muscle seemed to go limp at once. She leaned into him, and he tightened his grip, absorbing her weight.
While she might not be hurt, her adrenaline was dipping, and exhaustion was setting in. What she needed most was to put her feet up, chill out, and spend a quiet evening—with him.
Coming up soon on their agenda.
“Fine.” She exhaled, and he felt a quiver run through her. “They can treat my wrists. That will save me from doing it after I get home.” She angled toward Colin. “Satisfied?”
“As long as you follow through.”
“She will.” Luke squeezed her shoulder.
“I need to get back to work.” Colin raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ll give Rick a topline, but call him as soon as you get a chance, okay? He’s been bugging me every ten minutes for updates.”
As Colin pulled her into another hug, Luke caught the attention of one of the paramedics, tapped his jaw, and tipped his head toward Kristin. The man nodded.
Over Kristin’s shoulder, Colin mouthed a silent thank-you.
The next hour passed in a blur as his own adrenaline bottomed out and weariness sapped his last reserves of energy. The paramedics did their stuff—much more than Kristin had agreed to, in their subtle, persuasive way—and the two of them found a quiet corner to talk to Nick. The part of her story about the tap on her cell raised both their eyebrows, but the rest fell in line with their assumptions.
Nick stood as they wrapped up. “That’s all we need for now. We’ll examine the phone and get it back to you as soon as possible, Ms. Dane. Luke, why don’t I drop you both at your car? With the VFW crowd milling around, you should be able to slip out without drawing any media attention.”
“That would be great. I don’t think either of us is up to having a microphone thrust in our face.”
They wove through the crowd, slipped into the back seat of Nick’s car, and did a quick transfer at the Taurus. Before anyone noticed them, Luke was pulling out of the park and driving toward the highway.
Keeping a firm grip on the wheel, he reached over and took Kristin’s hand, weaving his fingers through hers.
She squeezed them and shifted the paramedic-provided cold pack against her jaw. “What a day.”
“I’ll say.”
She studied the sun beginning to dip toward the horizon. “An hour ago, I didn’t think I’d be here to see another sunset.” Her voice hitched. “It’s like a second chance at life.”
“I know—and I don’t plan to waste a minute of it.”
“How so?” She gave him a curious glance.
This wasn’t the time or place for soul-baring. They were both exhausted, the trauma was too fresh, and his mind was too muddled to do justice to the topic he wanted to discuss.
“I’ll tell you what. Let’s table that topic until we get to your place, order our pizza, and chill for a while.”
After a few moments she gave a slow nod. “I think that’s smart. I have some things to say to you too, but I’d rather do that after I feel a little more normal.” She leaned her head back against the seat and held tight to his fingers.
The remainder of the drive passed in silence.
And that was fine.
Just holding hands was more than sufficient for now.
Besides, as the miles passed and the reality of their near miss began to fully sink in, Luke needed the quiet interlude to get a grip on his wobbly composure—and to send a heartfelt thank-you heavenward for answered prayers.
“Wonderful. There’s a news van in the parking lot.” As Luke drove toward her condo, Kristin grimaced.
Microphones might be in their future after all.
She was so not up for that.
“Is there a back entrance to your unit?” Luke surveyed the parking lot.
Of course. If her brain wasn’t stuck in slow motion, she’d have thought of that herself. “Yes. Circle back to the main road, turn into the next drive, and we’ll hoof it to the back door. They won’t be able to see us going in from where they’re parked.”
He followed her instructions, and five minutes later they slipped unnoticed into the rear door of her condo.
After he shut and locked it behind them, Luke pulled her close and cupped her face in his hands, his fingers gentle on her bruised jaw. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I took off my helmet.”
Before she could respond, he leaned down and touched his lips to hers.
Melting against him, she put her arms around his neck and held on tight.
Who needed words, anyway?
The kiss was tender and sweet and careful—yet brimming with a barely-held-in-check passion that sent her pulse back into overdrive . . . for much more pleasant reasons than earlier in the day.
She was in no hurry to end the embrace—but at a sudden vibration against her hip, she jerked back.
“Sorry.” He groped for his phone. “I’ll turn it off.”
“No.” She stole one more quick kiss and drew back. “With all that’s happened today, you better see who’s calling.”
“Yeah. I guess.” With a resigned sigh, he pulled out his phone. Rolled his eyes.
“What?”
“It’s my sister. She always did have rotten timing.”
“Or she suspects you might be involved in what’s going on. The media has to be all over this. Go ahead and call her back. I need to touch base with Rick an
d my dad anyway. I don’t want either of them worrying, and Dad could hear about this on the news.”
“Are you always this logical?”
“No.”
“Glad to hear it.” He winked at her as he tapped in a number. “Don’t go far.”
“I’m not planning to.” Ever.
But she could share that in a little while, once they both made their calls.
Ten minutes later, after reassuring Rick she was fine, filling her dad in on the events of the day, and ordering a deluxe pizza with the works, she found Luke sprawled on her couch.
“When did you last sleep?”
“I don’t remember.” He sniffed his shirt. “But I think I need a shower more than sleep. I should go home, freshen up, and come back.”
“No way. I have a clean bathroom, plenty of towels, and a T-shirt that will fit you. I wouldn’t mind a shower myself.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Is that a proposition?”
“Nope. Ladies first. Give me ten minutes. I’ll call out after I’m finished and leave your shirt and a towel in the bathroom.”
“You’re no fun.”
She smiled. “I think I’ll enjoy disproving that comment down the road.”
He gave her a slow, wicked grin. “I think I’ll have fun letting you.”
A delicious quiver of anticipation zipped up her spine.
Down, girl. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to explore the electricity zinging between you. No need to rush this.
Right.
She cleared her throat and backed away. “I won’t be long.”
“Good.”
At the parched-man-who’s-stumbled-upon-a-desert-oasis look in his eyes, she fled before the situation got downright dangerous.
Standing under a cool spray in the shower helped restore her equilibrium, and as she slipped out of the bathroom and Luke took her place, she felt almost back to normal.
Almost.
He showered even faster than she had, emerging from the bathroom as the doorbell rang.
“About this shirt. Seriously?” He pinched the tee between his fingers and plucked it away from his skin like it was a leech.
Hmm.
Maybe the reaction of her Treehouse Gang buddies to the Alice in Wonderland cast and crew shirts hadn’t been over-the-top after all.
It wasn’t the most masculine garment, with all that swirly type against a powder-blue background.
“That’s Rick’s T-shirt for this year’s show. Colin’s wife made him take his, but Rick refused to wear the one I had made for him.”
“Smart man. If I wasn’t desperate, I’d follow his lead.”
The doorbell rang again, and Kristin started toward it. “That’s the pizza.”
“Or an aggressive reporter. Let me answer it.”
“In that?” She motioned to the shirt.
He hesitated for an instant, then picked up his pace. “I’ll survive. What are the odds I’ll ever see this guy again?”
She watched from the sidelines as he opened the door. The kid gave the shirt a dubious once-over as Luke dug out some money, then beat a hasty retreat.
“You owe me.” Luke carried the pizza into the living room. “And I’m not referring to a monetary reimbursement for this pizza.”
“I always pay my debts.”
“Hold that thought. I’m starving.”
“How long has it been since you had any food?” She ducked into the kitchen to retrieve two sodas.
“Can’t remember.” He set the box on the coffee table, tugging her down beside him as soon as she returned. “By the way, you’re invited to dinner at my sister’s house on Sunday.”
“I accept.”
“That was easy.”
“I’d like to meet your family.” She wound a stringy piece of cheese around her finger and deposited it on top of her slice of pizza. What she was about to say might be premature, but after everything that had happened today, she wasn’t going to waste her second chance at life, either. “If you’d like to meet mine, I’m flying to Boston next weekend. I told my dad about you, and he reminded me their townhouse has two guest rooms.”
“I’d be honored. And we might as well get the meet-the-family ritual out of the way up front so we can concentrate on each other.”
“I like how you think.”
“If we finish this pizza fast, we can practice that concentration.”
“Then let’s not waste time talking.” She took a huge bite.
The pizza disappeared in record time.
But the dessert was better.
And it lasted much longer than the pizza.
When they finally came up for air, Luke touched his forehead to hers. “I prayed harder today than I’ve prayed since the day Jenny died. I couldn’t even fathom the thought of losing you too.” His whispered words were hoarse.
“You didn’t. You won’t. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
He backed off a few inches. “I don’t want to rush you into making promises.”
“You’re not. I’ve known almost from the day we met that you were special—and I’m smart enough to recognize a keeper.”
“Me too. I already knew you had a tender heart and deep compassion and a host of other fine qualities, but when you tried to detonate that bomb today . . .” His voice choked, and he swallowed. “You’re a bona fide hero, Kristin Dane.”
So he’d realized her intent as she’d lunged away from Ryan.
Thank heaven her plan had failed.
“You are too. And not just for what you did today. The FBI tech told me you were once on a bomb squad.”
“For eighteen months in my distant past. It freaked Jenny out, so I quit.”
“I can understand how she felt. Promise me you’ll never get anywhere close to a bomb again. Your job is already plenty dangerous without adding more risk.”
“I promise. If I never see another bomb again, it will be too soon.” He surveyed the waning sunlight filtering through her half-open blinds. “It’s getting late. I should go.”
She snuggled against the solid warmth of his chest. “I know.”
He settled deeper into the cushions and pulled her close. “Ten more minutes.”
But in less than five, fatigue took him out. His breathing deepened and steadied, and slumber erased the last vestiges of tension from his features.
Kristin’s eyelids grew heavy too.
And as she drifted off . . . as a deep sense of contentment settled over her like a cozy comforter on a cold winter night . . . her lips curved up.
Life didn’t get any better than falling asleep safe in Luke’s arms.
Where she belonged . . . for always.
EPILOGUE
“Don’t you feel a tiny bit guilty about lazing around on a white sand beach in the Caribbean while our families and friends are battling a December blizzard?”
At Kristin’s question, Luke smiled without opening his eyes. “Nope.”
The double chaise lounge they were sharing in the cabana shifted, and he turned his head to find his wife perched on her side and propped on her elbow, chin in palm, an impish grin curving her mouth.
“I don’t either.”
He chuckled. “Maybe we should stay on Antigua forever.”
“I like the sound of that—but honeymoons have to end.”
“Ours doesn’t.”
“Nice to hear.” She traced the line of his jaw with her fingertip, her touch elevating his pulse—as it always did. “This has been an incredible ten days, starting with the wedding.”
He captured her hand and kissed her fingers one by one. “I agree. Did I mention you were a beautiful bride?”
“Only a few dozen times.”
“It bears repeating. When I saw you at the back of church on your father’s arm in that amazing dress, I . . . wow.” As long as he lived, he’d never forget his first glimpse of his bride, her face radiant as she walked down the aisle in a stunning white lace gown that hugged and dipped in
all the right places.
“I’m glad you liked it. I had a blast shopping for it with your sister.”
“Who wouldn’t give me the slightest hint what it looked like.”
“She was under a solemn oath to keep the secret. But the pearls you gave me as a wedding present were perfect with it.”
“That’s what Becca said when I ran the idea by her.”
“She has excellent taste. I like her a lot. In fact, I like your whole family.” She leaned closer and brushed her lips over his cheek. “You know, I think your dad was really touched that you asked him to be your best man.”
It was hard to focus on their conversation while her kiss was sending his mind in a completely different direction. “He, uh, deserved the job—though it was a rather odd wedding party with Becca as a groomswoman and Colin and Rick as your men of honor.”
“My mom thought it was creative.”
“I’m glad she approved. I’d hate to start off on the wrong foot with my mother-in-law.”
“No worries there. You won her and Dad over with those Ted Drewes packed in dry ice that you brought on your first visit.”
“I’m not above a little bribery if it earns me points with my wife’s parents.”
“They’re partial to toasted ravioli too.”
“Duly noted for a future trip. But on a more serious note—I’m glad your mom was well enough to enjoy all the festivities. She’s made remarkable progress since our first trip together to Boston.”
“I agree—and I’m happy they’re going to carve out more time for a personal life after all the years they’ve single-mindedly devoted to their careers.”
He shifted onto his side too, so he could face her and play with a few strands of her silky hair. “I intend to carve out plenty of time for a personal life in the midst of my career. What happened in June gave me a very clear sense of priorities.”
A shadow crossed her face. “I still shudder to think how close . . .”
“Hey.” He cupped her cheek in his palm. “No shuddering allowed on a honeymoon.”
“Sorry.” She gave a rueful shrug. “Sometimes the memories creep up on me.”
“I know.” More than she realized, after her middle-of-the-night thrashing that had jerked him awake their first couple of nights as man and wife. Only after he’d tucked her close, stroked her back, and murmured soothing reassurances had she quieted. “Scars from a trauma like that can run deep. Why didn’t you tell me you were still having nightmares?”
