Edgar quickly stepped closer to Michelle. "Remember everything we talked about … Michelle. No matter if you leave now or two months from now, after all the legal red tape is out of the way, you will be leaving. The difference is whether Jake will go to prison or not. There's no way your marriage will stand up in a court of law. It'll fall apart like the house of cards it is within an hour of questioning."
Michelle looked from Jake to Edgar, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. You're wrong, she wanted to tell the INS agent. Hers and Jake's marriage was not a house of cards to be blown over with the lightest wind. While their union hadn't initially been based on love and permanent commitment, it had grown into that. And she suspected that rare were the times when young marriages could weather what hers and Jake's had in such a short period of time and manage to come out the stronger for it.
She glanced at her ringless finger. The absence of the simple wedding band meant little. Her bond to Jake transcended what a piece of jewelry could symbolize. She loved him, above and beyond nearly everything else in her life. She'd never thought herself capable of loving anyone other than her daughter for a long, long time, but from somewhere within, Jake had coaxed out a love that brimmed generously from her heart, filling it, filling her … bonding them.
Slowly, Jake began to lift his arms, inviting her into his embrace. With barely a hesitation, she slid from the booth and ran to him, burrowing into the soft folds of his sweatshirt, clutching him as if he were the four elements combined, everything in this world that she needed to survive.
"God forgive me for hurting you," she murmured, tilting her head to receive the kiss he pressed to the top of her head. "God forgive me for putting you through what you're going to face because of me. But I can't help myself. I love you, Jake McCoy."
Edgar muttered an especially crude curse. "You've just signed your death warrant, McCoy. Trust me on this. The company will never recognize your marriage."
Jake tucked Michelle tightly against his side and faced his co-worker. "You just go ahead and try to make this marriage look like anything less than a real marriage. You won't succeed. This is as sold as it gets. You're the one who's going to come away with something on the bottom of his shoes, Edgar."
The cowbell rang. Michelle looked up to see Melanie leading every last member of the McCoy family through the door like some sort of ragtag brigade. They were joined by the two men at the counter and the man with the cap in the kitchen. Liz rushed out on the cook's heels along with the other woman, then out came Lili. She bulleted to Michelle, tunneling her way between her and Jake, curving her thin arms around each of their legs.
Jake freed a hand and hesitantly reached down to touch Lili's blond curls. "You chose the wrong family to screw with, Edgar. No one ever crosses the McCoys."
* * *
Epilogue
« ^
Jake sneaked up on his wife—his wife; how he loved calling Michelle that, with no reservations, no fears that their relationship didn't qualify—where she talked to his sisters-in-law, Liz and Melanie. He put his hands on her narrow waist and swiveled her to face him, the rustle of her wedding dress filling his ears, her flushed features and twinkling eyes filling his gaze. He'd never seen a woman look so beautiful. He wanted to tug her into the mammoth white tent set up in case of inclement weather, hoist her on top of one of the linen-covered tables and have at her right then and there.
But there were a hundred or so guests milling about the McCoy farm so he limited himself to a chaste taste of her sexy mouth.
He'd planned to ask her if she was happy but no longer felt the need to. The way she glowed in the setting sunlight that kissed her profile, practically floated over the neatly trimmed lawn in her puffy white dress, her laughter tinkling above the sound of silverware clinking against china, told him she was happy. And it made him feel proud to know he was partially responsible.
It was difficult to believe it had been just three weeks ago that Michelle and Lili had been a heartbeat away from vanishing from his life. That the woman wriggling in his embrace had called Edgar Mollens and struck a deal that would get him off the hook with the INS.
So much had changed since then. Michelle and Lili had already transformed his apartment in Woodley Park into a home. Frilly curtains, colorful pillows, full cupboards and hoards of toys made it difficult to recognize the place when he came home at night. And he couldn't have been happier. Although he did have to talk to Michelle about the scruffy little cat Lili had brought home the day before.
"Hey, Jake, you know the rules," Melanie warned him. "No monopolizing the bride until after the reception."
Liz agreed. "That's right. You two are going to have plenty of time on your honeymoon."
The women fell silent, looking at a spot somewhere over his left shoulder. A man cleared his throat. Jake glanced to find Edgar standing awkwardly behind him and Michelle. His first instinct was to run, though running was no longer a concern.
Instead, he grinned, and he and Michelle turned to greet him. He extended his hand to his fellow agent. "Glad you could make it, Edgar."
"Yeah. Me, too." He glanced at Michelle. "Mrs. McCoy. Congratulations. You're a fetching bride."
Michelle's smile widened. "Thank you, Edgar."
Edgar's discomfort level seemed to grow the longer he stood there. He lifted a hand to his head and smoothed the little hair remaining there. "Look, I just wanted to, you know, apologize again for everything. And to give you this. Think of it as a wedding gift of sorts—except, of course, that you've earned it."
Michelle accepted the envelope.
"No need for apologies, Edgar. Funny thing is, you maybe partially responsible for Michelle and me being where we are right now."
His wife's tiny gasp drew his attention. She slid out a brand-spanking-new green card. She looked at Jake, fresh tears making her eyes look that much brighter. Then she threw her arms around Edgar. "Thank you. Thank you so very much."
Edgar's face turned beet red. "It's nothing, really. Your coming in and explaining everything that happened in California ten years ago helped enormously. The review board unanimously decided you were no threat. From there, I didn't have any problem expediting things to get you this." Jake pressed his lips against Michelle's ear. "Shall we forget Hawaii and make Paris our honeymoon destination, instead?"
Her answer was the closing of her eyes and a squeeze of his arm where it encircled her waist.
"Well … congratulations," Edgar said, ungracefully backing away and nearly tripping over a tent stake.
Liz and Mel immediately descended, wanting to see the new card that identified Michelle as a resident alien—though Jake didn't plan to stop until she was a full-fledged citizen. He caught a glimpse of Pops some distance behind his sisters-in-law, staring after the setting sun. The old man had been quieter than usual lately. And now, in the midst of the celebration, he couldn't have looked more melancholy.
Jake scanned the guests comprised of family, townsfolk and co-workers, until he spotted Mel's mother, Wilhemenia, straightening the hill of gifts on a nearby table.
Mel elbowed him in the ribs. "So are you going to leave us alone so we can indulge in some more girl talk or what, McCoy?"
Jake tore his gaze from Wilhemenia and held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay."
Michelle smiled. "Lili's in the barn, I think. Why don't you make sure she's not getting into any trouble."
Jake lifted her left hand and kissed the back, then reluctantly left his wife to continue her post-ceremony gossiping session. He caught Melanie saying something about Michelle's wedding ring, and his grin widened. He waved at David and Connor where they stood to the side clutching their long-neck beer bottles for dear life. The last two single McCoy brothers were obviously uncomfortable attending the third wedding reception for a McCoy in the past half year. Jake rounded the bandstand and navigated around one of several gas lamps. Ah, there she was.
Near the new barn, Mitch and Lili were feeding
the livestock His heart skipped a beat when Billy the Kid Goat licked Lili's palm, and she threw back her blond head and shrieked with laughter. Absently, Jake rubbed his leg.
In the past twenty-one days, he and Michelle and Lili had spent nearly every moment they could together as family. Except, of course, when he was at work, or when Lili took her afternoon naps and went to bed at night. It was then, when the little munchkin was otherwise occupied, that he and Michelle took advantage of every moment alone…
He looked at his monkey suit, longing for the jeans and oxford shirt he'd been wearing earlier in the day. Jeans. He couldn't remember the last time he'd worn a pair. But, as Michelle insisted, he looked damned good in them. He grinned. Well, he couldn't deny that they were more appropriate for a life that included a playful, messy four-year-old. For the first few days after Michelle's decision to stay and fight the INS with him, he'd been torn as what to do. Quit his job? Or stay until everything was settled? He'd already pretty much guessed they wouldn't terminate his employment. Their reasons would have been shaky, at best. After all, the job of deporting Michelle had not been assigned to him, so conflict never entered the equation.
Now that she had her green card, he had to decide what he wanted to do. Something that helped potential immigrants, he thought. He and Mitch were already discussing the possibility of his buying into his P.I. partnership and including immigration and naturalization aid to their list of services.
And Michelle… Well, she had already been snapped up by a French restaurant within walking distance of their D.C. home, and her plans to open her own restaurant were already in the works.
"Jake!" Lili called, snapping him from his reverie.
He smiled and continued to the barn as she ran toward him. Even now, he acknowledged a tiny pang of awkwardness around the little girl. She was so … tiny. He, so large. But the pang instantly disappeared as she catapulted herself into his arms, giggling as he compensated for her weight by swinging her around. He crouched and straightened the skirt of her frilly dress. He couldn't be sure how much she understood of everything that had happened in the past three months. He planned to make the rest of her life as carefree and happy as possible.
"Did Maman tell you I talked to Nana and Grandpa this morning?" Lili said, speaking so quickly the words emerged as a single very long, breathy one.
Jake nodded, watching as Mitch gave him a wave then disappeared into the barn. "Yes, in fact, she did."
"They may be coming to visit me next month, did you know that?"
"Really?" He feigned ignorance, though he and Michelle had discussed the possible ramifications of their visit for the past three days. "That's great."
She hooked a finger inside the buttoned flap of his shirt and tugged. "Uh-huh." Her face screwed up into an expression that was becoming as familiar as her smile. It meant she was chewing something over. That she would share the thought was a forgone conclusion—another one of the qualities she'd inherited from her mother. "Since you and Maman are married, does that make you my papa?"
Jake tried not to cough at the sudden tickle in his throat. "That depends."
She frowned at him. "On what?"
He swept her bangs from her forehead with a brush of a finger. "On whether or not you want me to be."
She appeared to consider it long and hard. "Okay."
His chuckle vibrated straight down to his feet. "That easy, huh? 'Okay'?"
He hadn't heard Michelle approach, but her words were impossible to ignore. "She knows a good find when she comes across one." She came to stand between them. "Just like her mother."
Jake stood up, taking a giggling Lili with him. Michelle locked her arms around them both and kissed Jake soundly on the cheek. Lili did the same on the other.
Jake closed his eyes and tightened his hold on both of them. He wasn't sure what he'd done, but it must have been something very good indeed to deserve the love of both of these special women.
Life just didn't get any better than this…
"So, shall we fly this joint?" Michelle whispered into his ear.
He chuckled, knowing she meant "blow this joint," but not caring. "Don't we have a couple of things to take care of first?"
He put Lili down, then took Michelle's hand as Lili tugged them to their guests. Liz clinked her glass several times until everyone settled down, then directed all the single men to gather for the tossing of the garter.
Jake eyed Michelle. He'd been aching to get under those yards of white material for hours. He only wished his family and most of Manchester weren't gathered to watch as he finally did so. To hoots and calls, he knelt and slowly slid her skirt up. He grinned at her surprised giggle and attempts to keep him from lifting it too far. But all laughter left him when he slipped a finger under the red and white garter, the flesh of her bare leg unbearably hot, air suddenly a rare commodity. It didn't matter how often he made love with this woman, every time was like the first time. Awkwardly, he drew the scrap of material down her leg. Once he finally had it free, he turned, twirling it around his index finger.
"Throw it, Papa!" Lili shouted from where Pops held her nearby. His throat tightened as he faced the small crowd of single men.
He chuckled when Marc and Mitch forced Connor and David to join the group, then stood as crossed-armed, smiling sentinels when the two bachelors tried to bolt. Turning, Jake gave the garter a squeeze, then flung it over his shoulder. A roar of laughter rippled through the gathering, and he turned to find the naughty bit of silk and lace sitting on top of the youngest McCoy's fair head. David dragged the garter from his hair and nearly tripped over his own feet when Connor punched him good-naturedly on the arm.
"The bouquet!" the waitress from the town's diner shouted. Bulleting her way through the throng of men, Myra waved her hands. "Do it just as we practiced, Michelle!"
Jake chuckled as he helped his wife to her feet.
But whatever the two women may or may not have practiced, the bouquet went far wide of the target of ten or so women gathered … and landed straight in Wilhemenia Weber's lap.
* * * * *
FOR HER EYES ONLY Page 19