"This is almost over," Blue finally said.
Lucy nodded. They were almost at the station. What he intended to do there, she didn't have a clue. She was afraid to ask. Maybe Blue planned to take Jenny Lee and escape in the television station's helicopter. After all, he was a Navy SEAL. He could fly a helicopter, no problem. Or maybe he intended to hole up in Jenny's office, using Lucy's gun to keep Fisher and whoever was with him in the truck—probably Frank Redfield—at bay until the authorities made the scene.
But maybe Blue wasn't talking about the danger they were in. Maybe he was talking about his relationship with Lucy. And it was true. It was almost over. If Blue was planning to be with Jenny from now on, there was no way his friendship with Lucy could continue on the way it had.
Blue swore, suddenly and loudly, and Lucy glanced up. The monster truck had reappeared in the rearview mirror. It was growing larger by the second, gaining on them.
Lucy could see the turnoff that led to the television station up ahead.
They weren't going to make it. Lucy could see the hazy sunlight glinting off the barrel of the hunting rifle as she glanced again in the rearview mirror.
"Get down!" Blue shouted, and she ducked. A shot rang out and Blue cursed.
Oh, my God. Blue was hit. The windshield had been sprayed with his blood. Somehow Blue wiped a clear swatch with his hand.
It was his arm. He'd been shot in the arm and he was bleeding.
"Blue," Lucy said. "Oh, God, Blue...."
Another shot rang out and the windshield broke, spider-webbing. Again Blue was there, kicking it out so that she could see.
"Your arm," she gasped, the force of the wind in her face taking her breath away.
"I'm fine," he said, his voice still soft and calm as he quickly ripped the tail off his shirt and tied it around his arm to stop the bleeding. "It's nothing. Just messy, that's all. Come on, Yankee. Here comes the turnoff. Don't slow—just take it."
Lucy pulled the wheel hard to the right and they skidded around the corner. It took a moment for their tires to get traction, but then they were off again, doing eighty down a road with a fifteen-mile-an-hour limit.
At the first speed bump they nearly launched into the air.
The truck was right behind them, and it bounced up and almost on top of them.
But then they were in the parking lot, heading toward the main building.
Lucy could see a small crowd standing out in front. It looked like a television crew, complete with at least two cameras and a whole bunch of technicians. What the heck...?
"Don't hit the brakes until we're almost past them," Blue told her. "Then just get down and stay down, do you understand?"
Yes. Lucy understood. Suddenly she understood.
She saw Jenny Lee Beaumont, dressed in pink as usual, standing in front of the crowd, a microphone in her hand, reporting live from the front of the television station.
Lucy understood. If R.W. Fisher and Frank Redfield were going to kill Blue and Lucy, they were going to have to do it on live television.
It was perfect. It was so perfect she had to laugh. Blue had no doubt set this plan up with Jenny Lee. He had no doubt figured that the time would come when the people who killed Gerry would try for him, too. But no one in his right mind would commit murder in front of an audience of two-hundred-thousand-plus viewers.
She hit the brakes hard and felt the car go into a skid and then finally stop. She didn't get down quickly enough, and Blue pulled her down, covering her with his body.
Lucy could hear shouting. She could hear the squeal of tires as the monster truck did a quick U-turn out of the parking lot. She heard the drumming of helicopters overhead as the FInCOM agents made the scene and took off after the monster truck. Then she heard the quiet sound of Blue's breathing and the pounding of her heart.
Blue shifted slightly so that most of his weight was off her. Lucy turned her head and found herself looking directly into his eyes.
"You all right?" he asked quietly.
She nodded. "Are you?"
He nodded, too. "My arm was just nicked," he said. "It's nothing to worry about."
Their legs were still intertwined. That felt too intimate, too wrong. Or maybe it felt too right.
She looked up to see Jenny Lee peering in the window at them.
"Whoopsie," Jenny said. "We'll get this interview a little bit later. Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt, Carter."
Lucy sat up, hitting her head on the steering wheel. Blue helped her up and into the driver's seat.
"I'm okay," she said, rubbing her head. "I'm all right. You can go. I'm fine."
"Go," Blue repeated. "Go where?"
Lucy forced herself to smile. "Go to Jenny," she said. "It's all right." But then she caught herself. What was she saying? "No, it's not all right," she realized, "In fact, it—stinks. In fact, you're a jerk, and I don't even know what I saw in you in the first place—"
"Lucy, what the hell...?"
"Go ahead," she said, glaring at him. "Go spend the rest of your life with Jenny Lee. I hope you like lace doilies and little pink flowers, because your house is going to be covered with them."
Blue was confused as hell. "Why would I want to spend the rest of my life with Jenny?"
"Because you childishly imagine you're in love with her."
Blue had to laugh. "Lucy, did you hit your head harder than I thought?"
"No."
She wasn't kidding. There were actually tears in her eyes. She was mad at him. She was serious. Blue stopped laughing. Where the hell had she gotten this idea? He ran his fingers through his hair, and when he spoke it was slowly and calmly. "I'm not in love with Jenny Lee,"
"My point exactly," she said hotly. "You only imagine you are."
"No, I don't. I—"
"Yes, you do," Lucy insisted. "And you know what's going to happen if you marry her? After six months, she's going to bore you to tears."
"Lucy, I'm not—"
"That is if you don't suffocate underneath all those little pink flowers first."
"Why," Blue said as clearly and distinctly as he possibly could, "would I want to marry Jenny Beaumont when I'm in love with you?"
Lucy was silenced. The silence continued for several very long moments.
"Excuse me?" she finally said.
"You heard me the first time, Yankee," Blue said quietly, dangerously. "Don't make me say it twice."
"But I want you to say it twice," she said. And then she smiled.
Her eyes glistened with tears, but her smile was pure sunshine, pure joy. When she smiled at him that way, Blue could refuse her nothing.
"I love you," he said, touching the side of her face, losing himself in her eyes. Hell, that was easier to say than he'd thought possible. So he tried saying something that was even more difficult. "I think you should marry me, Lucy."
Lucy felt her smile fade. Marry. Blue. My God. She'd never dreamed... Well, actually she had dreamed. But she'd imagined they were just that. Dreams.
Blue made an attempt at humour. "You need me to say that one again, too?"
Lucy shook her head. "No." Her throat was dry and she swallowed. "No, I heard you."
She could see uncertainty in his eyes.
"What do you think?" he asked.
He honestly didn't know what her answer would be. Lucy cleared her throat. "You mean, move to California?" she asked, stalling for time. Did he know what he was asking? Was he just caught up in the emotion of the moment? How could she know for sure?
Blue nodded. "That's where Alpha Squad is stationed these days." He searched her eyes. "I've got an apartment outside Coronado. It's kinda small—we could get something bigger...."
Lucy didn't speak. She couldn't speak. He seemed to have given this some thought. He seemed lucid and certain.
Blue mistook her silence for hesitation. "I know being married to a SEAL isn't always fun," he said quietly. "I'd be gone a lot-too often. But I swear to you, while I'm away, I'll
be true. Other wives might wonder or worry, but you'd never have to, Lucy. And when I'm home, I'll do my best to make up for all the time I'm away—"
Lucy interrupted. "Are you sure?" She couldn't stand it any longer. She had to ask.
"It's always hard when you've gotta leave on a mission, but Joe Cat and Veronica are making it work and—"
"No, I mean, are you sure you want to marry me?"
Blue laughed in surprise. "I guess you really didn't hear me the first time—or the second time, either. I love you."
He cupped her chin in his hand, leaned forward and kissed her. His mouth was warm and sweet, his lips as soft as she remembered.
"It wasn't love at first sight," he told her in his black velvet Southern voice, kissing her again. "It took longer than that. I can't tell you when I knew for certain. All I know is little by little, bit by bit, I realized I want you next to me, Lucy. I realized that I love you. I want you wearing my ring, taking my name, having my babies. I want you to be my friend and my lover for the rest of our lives. So please, marry me."
Lucy's heart was in her throat, so she opened her mouth and gave it to Blue. "Yes," she said.
Blue smiled and kissed her.
Blue sat down next to Lucy on the porch swing. "I spoke to Joe Cat," he told her. "I caught him before his plane left Kansas City. As long as I'm out of trouble, he's just going to turn around and head back home to Veronica."
Lucy leaned back against him, looking out at the deepening twilight. He smelled sweet and clean from his shower. He'd shaved, too, and she rubbed her own cheek against the smoothness of his face.
"One of the FInCOM agents stopped by while you were getting cleaned up," she told him. "Travis signed a full confession. Apparently he was there—along with Fisher and Frank Redfield—on the night Gerry died."
Blue nodded, just waiting for her to tell him more.
"According to Travis," Lucy continued, "Gerry was involved with some kind of money-laundering scheme. R.W. Fisher apparently knew some mob boss from New York who convinced him Hatboro Creek was the perfect sleepy little town to launder drug money. Fisher got Gerry into the deal, along with the Southeby brothers and Frank Redfield. Everything was moving along smoothly until Gerry started going to Jenny Lee's church. When Gerry got God, his conscience started bothering him, and he told Fisher and the others he wanted out of the deal.
"They threatened him and he was running scared, trying to figure out what to do. When you showed up, Fisher was afraid Gerry would go to you for help, so he told Gerry if he as much as spoke to you, they'd bring this hired gun from New York—a man named 'Snake'—to kill you. Instead, 'Snake' killed Gerry."
Blue swore quietly.
"Travis said that Gerry wasn't drunk that night. He was sober. The drunkenness was just an act. Gerry was trying to make you leave town."
"He was trying to protect me," Blue said.
Lucy nodded. "Yeah. All those awful things he said to you weren't true. He cared about you—he didn't want you to be hurt."
"I could've helped him," Blue said.
"I know."
They sat in silence for a moment, just listening to the sound of the crickets whirring and chirping in the early evening.
"I told Joe Cat about you," Blue said.
She turned and looked at him. "Really? What did you say?"
"That I fell in love with a friend of mine. He seemed to understand." Blue leaned forward and kissed her. It was a slow, deep, lazy kiss that promised forever—a sweet, dizzying happiness for all time.
"I can't wait to meet him," Lucy said, settling back against Blue again, shifting so that her head was in his lap, so she was gazing up at him. He pushed the swing and they rocked gently. "Tell me more about him. Tell me about all the guys in Alpha Squad, and about California—"
Blue smiled down at her as he began to talk.
Smiling into Lucy's eyes was easy. Telling her that he loved her was easy, too. Asking her to marry him had been a breeze. Kissing her and making love to her were as easy and as natural as breathing. But sitting here on the porch swing, swaying gently as the evening descended upon them, Blue knew that talking to Lucy—his friend, his lover, soon to be his wife—was easiest of all.
Epilogue
Lucy stood in the back room of the naval-base chapel as Sarah adjusted her veil.
"I feel stupid," Lucy grumbled. "What is this thing hanging in front of my face? Is it supposed to hide me? Do I look that hideous? Why do I have to wear this anyway?"
"Because it's traditional," Sarah said calmly. Nora, her baby, now three months old, smiled happily at Lucy from the backpack Sarah wore. "You look beautiful, and you know it."
"It's not very traditional for the bride to be given away by her best friend and her godchild," Lucy commented.
Sarah gazed at her for a moment, then took out the pins that held the veil in place and tossed both pins and veil aside. "Fair enough," she said.
"I wish I were wearing my jeans," Lucy said wistfully.
Sarah shook her head. "Nope," she said. "Nice try, but I draw the line at the veil. No way am I letting you march down that aisle in blue jeans."
"I just feel so...not me," Lucy said. The dress was cut low, off her shoulders, with tiny cap sleeves, a tailored bodice and a long, full skirt, complete with a train.
"You look incredible," Sarah said. Nora gurgled and chewed on her mother's hair in agreement.
The music started, and Sarah took Lucy's arm. "Come on." Sarah smiled. "Wait till you see what's waiting for you at the other end of this church."
Self-consciously, Lucy let Sarah lead her out into the church. And then she stopped feeling self-conscious at all. Because standing there in the front of the church was Blue. Next to him stood the six other members of Alpha Squad. All seven men were wearing white dress uniforms and the effect was nearly blinding.
Lucy's gaze ran across their now-familiar faces. Joe Cat's smile was genuine and warm, but he couldn't keep himself from glancing across the chapel to smile at his wife, Ronnie. Lucy's first impression of Ronnie had been that she was an ice queen—until Lucy had walked into the Outback Bar to find the usually proper, English-accented woman cutting loose, dirty-dancing with her handsome husband.
And then there was Harvard. Daryl Becker. Along with his Ivy League education, Harvard possessed a first-class sense of humour. His shaved head gleamed almost as much as the diamond he wore in his left ear.
Cowboy, Wesley and Bob all grinned at Lucy. Cowboy winked. He was the youngest member of the squad and he did his best to live up to his reputation as a hothead.
Lucky O'Donlon was smiling, too—and oh, my God, standing next to him was none other than Frisco. Alan Francisco. There weren't seven men up there—there were eight. The big, towheaded former SEAL was standing with the rest of Alpha Squad. Blue had taken Lucy to meet him at the rehab centre several months ago, and Frisco had been in a wheelchair. It had been years since he was injured, and all the doctors had sworn he would never walk again. But today he was standing. He had a cane, but he was standing. Lucy looked around, but she didn't see any sign of a wheelchair. Had he actually walked to the front of the church?
And Lucky—Frisco's best friend and swim buddy—looked happier than she'd ever seen him. The two men were almost the exact same height and build. Lucky's hair was brown, while Frisco's was blond, but other than that, even their faces were similar enough that they might have been brothers.
Except Frisco couldn't hide the lines of pain around his eyes. He may have been standing, but it was hurting him to do so.
"Thank you so much for coming, Alan," Lucy said to him, emotion breaking her voice.
Frisco nodded. "I wouldn't have missed it for anything," he said.
And then, suddenly they reached the front of the church. Sarah kissed her on the cheek, and then Lucy was face-to-face with Blue.
Blue McCoy.
He looked incredible in his white dress uniform. Lucy hadn't seen him dressed up since Gerry's fu
neral, and before that at the party at the country club. Today, like that night, she was wearing a dress that made her feel peculiar, as if she were masquerading as someone else.
But Blue looked different, too. His shining blond hair was perfectly combed, every wave and curl in place. The rows and rows of medals he wore on his chest were overwhelming. His uniform was so clean, so starched and stiff and gleaming white. He gazed, unsmiling, into her eyes.
Who was this stranger, this sailor she was marrying? For one heart-stopping moment, Lucy wasn't sure she knew.
Then she looked down and caught sight of Blue's feet. He wasn't wearing dress shoes like the rest of Alpha Squad. He was wearing his old, familiar leather sandals.
He was wearing his sandals, and she was wearing her cotton underwear. It was fancier than usual, but it was cotton. She'd insisted. They both had their hair combed differently, and both of than were dressed differently, but deep down inside they knew exactly what they were getting—exactly who they were going to spend the rest of their lives with.
Lucy smiled.
Blue smiled, too. And then he kissed the bride.
END
Forever Blue Page 24
