by Stone, Lyn
“True,” she agreed. “And to trust our instincts.” She pondered for a minute. “But we should base the decision on the facts available. The books all say that.”
“Ah, gotta go by the books. That’s my Tess.”
She hummed and nodded. “Too many people rush into marriage without any pertinent information about each other. For instance, I don’t even know what religion you are. I’m Methodist.”
“Retired Catholic,” he replied.
“Republican or Democrat?”
“Republican. Sometimes Independent. You?”
“Democrat.”
“Uh-oh. You root for Georgia or Tech?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I hate football.”
“Want kids?” he asked.
“Do you?” Now she looked worried, so it must be important to her, one way or the other.
Maybe this Q and A wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. He had never really thought much about fatherhood, except to prevent it. But now, with Tess, he realized he did want children. Very much. That surprised him a little.
“I do, Tess. Eventually. Maybe when we decide to get out of the field and into desk jobs. Five or six years maybe?”
“I’m good with that. What about finances? You’re a big spender. I’m pretty frugal. Looks like we don’t have much in common.”
“Makes it more interesting, don’t you think? If we agree on everything, we don’t argue. We don’t argue, we don’t get makeup sex. I hear that’s the best kind.”
She laughed. “Better than this?”
“We’ll see.”
“You’re definitely interesting, Cochran. But I am so not your type,” she warned, tugging gently on his chest hair with two fingers.
“I’m not yours, either, but what the hell? Will you marry me, anyway?”
“Yeah,” she growled, laughing softly as she wriggled even closer and slipped her arms around him. “What the hell. Now, about that next time you mentioned…”
Epilogue
“You’re what?” Mercier had nearly shouted the words.
Tess had moved the phone away from her ear. She could never recall hearing him lose his cool before. “I’m getting married. Any of y’all want to come for the wedding?”
“Are you out of your mind? Tess, you don’t know this man.”
But Tess did know him, and she had told Mercier so in no uncertain terms. In fact, she had convinced him beyond a doubt before the call was over. He had accepted that and moved on to inform her that she and Cameron would be placed on different teams and could never work missions together or simultaneously, but she understood that was policy.
Mercier and several of the other agents, including her matron of honor, Dani Michaels, came to the wedding. It was a small evening affair in Cameron’s parents’ church in Savannah. The ceremony had been short and sweet, and they were now celebrating the reception at his parents’ lovely old home right down the street from the church.
Her parents were here, too, beaming with pride even though they hardly knew the woman she was and had never understood her. She loved them, anyway. Being in love herself had made Tess realize the radical change they had made in their lives in order to give their baby a decent chance at a normal life and good education.
Cameron’s mom and dad had warmed to her right away, seeing her as the reason Cameron was finally settling down. Cameron’s years lying about Tybee and fishing had given his father reason to rejoice in the job his son had now.
Tess had even accepted his mother’s offer of her wedding gown, a lovely ivory satin number that fit perfectly. It made her feel as glamorous as the blue silk had in Saint-Tropez. But underneath, she wore sensible two-inch heels as a concession to her practical side. She was who she was.
Cameron swept her into their first waltz as the three-piece orchestra played Strauss. He wore a tux the way he wore everything else he put on, with casual elegance and supreme self-confidence. She loved that so about him, even though he did let her see his vulnerable side now and then. She loved that even more.
“Are you happy?” he asked as they twirled about the floor of what had been a ballroom well over a century ago. The man danced the way he did everything else.
“Deliriously happy,” she admitted, smiling up at him.
Later, they waved goodbye from the horse-drawn carriage that would take them to the picturesque hotel where they would spend their wedding night and three-day honeymoon. Then it would be back to the office and future missions.
What a fantastic November day, unusually warm right into the evening hours. Perfect and so memorable, their wedding day. The horse clopped along at a lazy pace, seeming to mock their eagerness to be alone together after the long day of excitement and anticipation.
“I love the way Savannah’s lit up,” she said as they completed their ride through the historic district of the beautiful old city, checkered with unique homes and lovely little parks.
“She’s my home, this old city.”
Tess smiled at Cameron as he helped her out of the carriage. “And she has electricity because we helped save the power grid. Doesn’t that make you feel good, having a hand in that?”
He grinned happily as he accepted the key card at the desk, offered his arm and escorted her across the hotel lobby. “I feel great about it. And we should definitely celebrate that,” he declared, employing his slow Southern drawl. “I know. We’ll make love all night with the lights on!”
She blushed and looked around to see the other patrons and staff smiling at them. “Is making love all you think about?” she whispered.
“Well, no, but it sure beats the hell out of fishing!” With that, he scooped her up in his arms, ignored the open elevator and carried her up the polished wooden staircase, just like in the movies. Miss Scarlett O’Hara had nothing on her!
Chameleon that he was, with an ability to fit into any given location or situation, Tess knew him. Deep down, beneath everything from scruffy sea captain to suave sophisticate, lay this teasing rogue, the real Cameron Cochran.
And he was all hers. She could see it in his eyes.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4656-4
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Copyright © 2010 by Lynda Stone
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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