“Two days,” she answered.
“For two days,” he continued, “that you have feelings for me, too.” He looked at her. “Do you?”
“You’re a damn idiot, you know that?” she cried. Leaning over him, tears streaming down her face, she ordered, “Shut up and kiss me.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” she sobbed just before she sealed her mouth to his.
Epilogue
She decided to give Luke some space.
After everything he’d been through, Frankie felt that he needed to be left alone. So she stepped back and let his family—his mother and his siblings—take Luke home en masse. Though she ached to see him, she refrained, thinking it best if she held herself in check.
Instead, she filled up her time doing paperwork, both her own and Luke’s. She deliberately did as thorough a job as she could writing up both reports. Together with the one that White Hawk wrote, she felt that a clear, concise picture of everything that went down was presented.
There was enough evidence, Sean told her after everything had been catalogued, to put Williams away for the rest of his life.
We got ’im, Kris, Frankie thought as she left the precinct after putting in an extra-long day. We got the SOB who killed you.
She let out a shaky breath. It wasn’t going to bring her cousin back and revenge didn’t taste nearly as sweet as she’d hoped it would, but at least she had the satisfaction of knowing that Williams would never cause another family grief, never rob another young woman of her future.
It was when she came to a stop at the second red light that Frankie realized she wasn’t driving home. At least, not to her home. Lost in thought, she’d automatically wound up driving toward Luke’s house.
At the next light, she seriously considered making a U-turn so she could head to her apartment complex.
You can’t avoid him forever.
White Hawk had told her that Luke was making progress, getting better faster than the doctor had thought he would. “He’s been asking after you,” Luke’s partner had told her tonight, just as he was leaving the squad room.
There was no judgment in his voice, no note of curiosity as to why she hadn’t gone to see Luke when everyone else obviously had. White Hawk had only stated a fact and let her digest it, leaving her to make of it what she would.
Pressing her lips together, Frankie gave up the idea of retracing her steps and continued driving to Luke’s house.
Luke’s mother opened the door when she rang the bell. The woman’s face instantly lit up.
“Frankie, come in!” Maeve invited warmly.
Feeling awkward, Frankie remained standing on the doorstep. Maybe this was a bad idea, after all.
“I don’t want to intrude. I just wanted to find out how he was doing,” she explained, paving the way for her retreat.
But Maeve grabbed her hand and tugged Frankie across the threshold.
“Come see for yourself, dear.” She was leaving Frankie with no choice.
Her cold feet froze over and she shook her head. “No, really, I don’t—”
“Oh, come on, dear,” Maeve urged. “You can keep him company. I have to be going. I have a shift to cover,” she explained. “And Luke’s been asking for you,” Maeve added, lowering her voice as if she was sharing a secret with a beloved friend.
Grabbing her purse, she switched positions with Frankie with the practiced ease of a professional magician.
“Go to him.” It was almost an order. She uttered it in her wake.
And then the door closed. Maeve was gone, leaving her standing inside.
When had she gotten to be such a coward? Frankie silently demanded. Maybe when the stakes had gotten so high. The next moment, Frankie lost her one and only opportunity for retreat.
“Who was at the door, Mom?” Luke called out, slowly making his way into the room.
Frankie ran her tongue over her dry lips. Turning around to face him, she answered, “I was.”
“I can see that,” Luke said. With effort, he lowered himself down onto the sofa. “The prodigal detective returns,” he quipped. His eyes swept over her, taking full measure. She looked even better than he remembered. “You know, everybody’s come by to see how I was doing since I got home from the hospital. Except for the serial killer, of course. And you.” His eyes held her prisoner. “Williams is in prison. What’s your excuse?”
Frankie shrugged, dismissing the question. “I was filling out our reports. Yours and mine.”
He’d been home almost five days. “How? Were you writing them longhand by using a pen in your teeth?”
She glanced away. “I was being thorough.”
He knew better than that. “No, you were being a coward.”
Her head jerked up. “What?” she demanded, her eyes suddenly blazing.
There was the woman he loved.
“You heard me. A coward,” Luke repeated, then elaborated on his assessment. “You let down your guard and said some things, and now you’re trying to run from the consequences.”
She thought back to the ambulance ride, to how terrified she’d been that he was going to die. “Look, about that, we both said things in the heat of the moment and we need to clear the air. I want you to know that I’m not holding you to any of it.”
Luke remained silent for so long, she thought he was letting her know that he wanted her to leave. Just as she began to rise, he said, “Maybe I want you to hold me to it.”
Frankie didn’t believe him. Didn’t believe in happily-ever-after when it came to her. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Luke sighed. “How long are you going to keep doing this?”
“What do you mean? Doing what?”
“I mean, how long are you going to keep denying what’s right in front of you? Frankie, I took a bullet for you. In some countries, we’d practically be engaged. What do I have to do to convince you that you mean the world to me? That nothing is more important to me than you are?”
She was afraid allow herself to believe that. Really afraid. “I—”
“Now, if you don’t feel the same way that I do, all right, I can accept that,” he told her. “But if you’re just running scared, then no, I can’t accept that. I love you, Frankie. And it’s not the pain medication talking,” he said, recalling what she’d told him the first time he’d said the words, “because I’m not on any pain medication. That’s just me talking. So, what do you say?”
She was afraid of what would happen if she said yes, but more afraid of what would happen if she said no and turned away.
“Is it always going to be like this?” Frankie asked. “You drowning me in rhetoric?”
“No, not always,” he answered, the corners of his mouth curving. “Sometimes I won’t say a word.”
“When?” she asked, sinking down next to him on the sofa. “When we’re asleep?”
“No.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, caressing her cheek. “When we’re making love.”
The warmth was starting. The warmth that even now was flowing through her body. The warmth that only he was capable of creating within her. “I think I can live with that.”
“Can you live with me?” he asked softly.
For a second, her heart stopped beating. It felt as if every fiber of her being was holding its breath. “You’re asking me to live with you?”
He started to laugh, but it hurt too much so he stopped. “I’m asking you more than that, DeMarco. I’m asking you to marry me.”
Her heart launched into triple time as she stared at Luke, not sure that she’d heard him correctly. “You’re what?”
Luke took her hands into his. “I’d drop to one knee if I could, but if I did, you’d have to help me up again.” Before sh
e could say anything, Luke was asking her that all-important question he’d been rehearsing in his mind ever since he’d opened his eyes in the hospital and seen her sitting there. “Francesca DeMarco, will you marry me?”
Frankie’s mouth dropped open. For a moment, it was too dry for her to say anything. And then she asked, “You’re serious.”
“Completely,” he answered. “And I’ll keep asking you until you say yes.”
“I thought you said that you could accept my not feeling about you the way you felt about me,” she reminded him. She wanted to be absolutely sure he wanted her before she accepted his proposal, that he wouldn’t suddenly change his mind.
“I lied.”
Frankie couldn’t maintain any of her barriers any longer. “Then I guess I should say yes, shouldn’t I?”
He grinned at her. “I like the sound of that. Know what else I like?” he asked.
“What?” she uttered breathlessly.
He didn’t bother answering her.
He showed her instead.
Showed her for the rest of the evening. And then the following morning, as well.
* * * * *
Don’t forget previous titles in the
CAVANAUGH JUSTICE series:
CAVANAUGH ON CALL
CAVANAUGH IN THE ROUGH
CAVANAUGH COLD CASE
CAVANAUGH OR DEATH
HOW TO SEDUCE A CAVANAUGH
CAVANAUGH FORTUNE
CAVANAUGH STRONG
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Fatal Threat
by Marie Force
A JOGGER SPOTTED the body floating in the Anacostia River just south of the John Philip Sousa Bridge.
“I hate these kinds of calls,” Lieutenant Sam Holland said to her partner, Detective Freddie Cruz, as she battled District traffic on their way to the city’s southeastern quadrant. “No one knows if this is a homicide, but they call us in anyway. We get to stand around and sweat our balls off while the ME does her thing.”
“I hesitate to point out, Lieutenant, that you don’t actually have balls to sweat off.”
“You know what I mean!”
“Yeah, I do,” he said with a sigh. “It’s going to be a long, hot, smelly Friday down at the river waiting to find out if we’re needed.”
“I gotta have a talk with Dispatch about when we’re to be called and when we are not to be called.”
“Let me know how that goes.”
“To make this day even better, after work I have to go to a fitting for my freaking bridesmaid dress. I’m too damned old to be a damned bridesmaid.”
His snort of laughter only served to further irritate her, which of course made him laugh harder.
“It’s not funny!”
“Yeah, it really is.” With dark brown hair, an always-tan complexion and the perfect amount of stubble on his jaw, he really was too cute for words, not that she’d ever tell him that. Everywhere they went together, women took notice of him. For all he cared. He was madly in love with Elin Svendsen and looking forward to their autumn wedding. Wiping laughter tears from his brown eyes, he said, “I won’t make you wear a dress when you’re my best-man woman.”
“Thank God for that. I need to stop making friends. That was my first mistake.”
“Poor Jeannie,” he said of their colleague, Detective Jeannie McBride, who was getting married next weekend. “Does she have any idea that she has a hostile bridesmaid in her wedding party?”
“Of course she does. Her sisters left me completely out of the planning of the shower, no doubt at her request. I’ll be forever grateful for that small favor.” Sam shuddered recalling an afternoon of horrifyingly stupid “shower games,” paper plates full of ribbons and bows, and dirty jokes about the wedding night for two people who’d been living together for more than a year. The whole thing had given her hives.
But Jeannie... She’d loved every second of it, and seeing her face lit up with joy had gone a long way toward alleviating Sam’s hives. After everything Jeannie had been through to get to her big day, no one was happier for her—or happier to stand up for her—than Sam. Not that she’d ever tell anyone that either. She had a reputation to maintain, after all.
She’d been in an unusually cranky mood since her husband, Nick, left for Iran two weeks ago for what should’ve been a five-day trip but had twice been extended. If he didn’t get home soon, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. In addition to worrying about his safety in a country known for being less than friendly toward Americans, she’d also discovered how entirely reliant upon him she’d become over the last year and a half. It was ridiculous, really. She was a strong, independent woman who’d taken care of herself for years before he’d come back into her life. So how had he turned her into a simpering, whimpering, cranky mess simply by leaving her for two damned weeks?
Naturally, the people around her had noticed that she was out of sorts. Their adopted thirteen-year-old son, Scotty, asked every morning before he left for baseball camp when Dad would be home, probably because he was tired of dealing with her by himself. Freddie and the others at work had been giving her a wide berth, and even the reporters who hounded her mercilessly had backed off after she’d bitten their heads off a few too many times.
During infrequent calls from Nick, he’d been rushed and annoyed and equally out of sorts, which didn’t do much to help her bad mood. Two more days. Two more long, boring, joyless days and then he’d be home and things could get back to normal.
What did it say about her that she was actually glad to have a floater to deal with to keep her brain occupied during the last two days of Nick’s trip? It means you have it bad for your husband, and you’ve become far too dependent on him if two weeks without him turns you into a cranky cow. Sam despised her voice of reason almost as much as she despised Nick being so far away from her for so long.
Twenty minutes after receiving the call from Dispatch, Sam and Freddie made it to M Street Southeast, which was lined with emergency vehicles of all sorts—police, fire, EMS, medical examiner.
“Major overkill for a floa
ter,” Sam said as they got out of the car she’d parked illegally to join the party on the riverbank. “What the hell is EMS doing here?”
“Probably for the guy who found the body. Word is he was shook up.”
Dense humidity hit her at the same time as the funk of the rank-smelling river. “God, it’s hotter than the devil’s dick today.”
“Honestly, Sam. That’s disgusting.”
“Well, you gotta figure the devil’s dick is pretty hot due to the neighborhood he hangs in, right?”
He rolled his eyes and held up the yellow crime-scene tape for her. Patrol had taped off the Anacostia Riverwalk Trail to keep the gawkers away.
The closer they got to the river’s edge, the more Sam began to regret the open-toe sandals she’d worn in deference to the oppressive July heat. The squish of Anacostia River mud between her toes was almost as gross as the smell of the river itself. She had her shoulder-length hair up in a clip that left her neck exposed to the merciless sun.
Tactical Response teams had boats on the scene, and from her vantage point on the riverbank, Sam could see the red ponytail belonging to the Chief Medical Examiner, Dr. Lindsey McNamara. She was too far out for Sam to yell to her for an update.
“Let’s talk to the guy who called it in,” she said to Freddie.
They traipsed back the way they’d come, with Sam trying to ignore the disgusting mud between her toes. Officer Beckett worked the tapeline at the northern end of the area they’d cordoned off. He nodded at them. “Afternoon, Lieutenant. Lovely day to spend by the river.”
“Indeed. I would’ve packed a picnic had I known we were coming. Where’s the guy who called it in?”
“Over there with EMS.” Beckett pointed to a cluster of people taking advantage of the shade under a huge oak tree. “He was hysterical when he realized the blob was a body.”
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