Stop in the Name of Love

by Nina Bruhns

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Mary Alice knew she’d only have one chance to get it right.

  Two tough-looking men had boarded the boat a few minutes earlier, accompanied by the cute brunette Sam Grayson had been dancing with at the party. Their eyes watched in silent curiosity as Charlie led Mary Alice up from the cabin and onto the deck. The men looked her up and down, male interest vying with outright suspicion in their expressions. She shuddered and turned her back on them.

  The sun disappeared over the horizon of choppy sea in a molten ball of red. The wind had kicked up, whipping the marina flags and rocking the boat. Mary Alice clutched her tote bag close to her heart, shivering in her thin summer dress.

  Deane strolled up and draped his jacket over her shoulders, but she shucked it off immediately. “No thanks. I’d rather freeze to death.”

  For a split second Deane looked taken aback, but then he shrugged and plucked the jacket off the deck, casually tossing it onto the bench lining the aft railing. “Suit yourself.”

  Watson watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. “Get below, Deane.” He motioned at Mary Alice and snarled to one of the strangers, “Keep an eye on her while we finish up.” To her he said, “This’ll take five minutes, and then we’re shoving off.”

  He disappeared behind Deane into the cabin, along with the brunette and the second man. Mary Alice noted the stranger was carrying a large satchel. Must be the final pay-off, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut. Which meant…

  I know too much.

  With a leaden sinking in her stomach, she realized there was no way she was going to get out of this situation alive. Not unless she made her escape. And the odds were not likely to get any better than right now to execute her plan. They were still at the dock, and she had just one guard. The man they’d left with her was armed and muscular, but she was counting on surprise to give her an advantage.

  Her only advantage.

  Sucking down a long, steadying breath, she shot a sidelong glance at the man, then looked around, pretending to decide where to sit. Deane’s jacket lay conveniently on the bench at the back of the boat. Rubbing her arms, she walked over to it as casually as she could, then bent to set her tote down. With a huff and her chin held high, she grabbed the jacket and slipped it on.

  Her heart pounded in her throat.

  Blocking the guard’s view with her body, she held her breath, reached inside the tote, and punched the ‘play’ button on the recorder.

  Sweet Lord in heaven, please let this work.

  One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three—

  She turned to the guard and smiled weakly, then slowly ambled along the railing until she got to where the deck narrowed and ran alongside the cabin toward the front of the boat.

  One thousand seven, one thousand eight—

  “That’s far enough,” the man barked, waving her away from the passage. He took a couple of steps toward the center of the deck.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, running her hand nervously along the cabin wall as she deliberately turned and made her way to stand with her back to the hatch door. Her knees shook so badly she was afraid he’d hear the bones knocking together.

  One thousand fifteen.

  Now!

  Please start now!

  On cue, her own voice, lowered an octave in a poor attempt at disguise, boomed out of the tape recorder. “FBI! Get your hands in the air! Do it now!”

  She and the man whirled in the same instant, he to the sound of the unidentified voice, and she to quickly slide the hatch door’s bolt home. She ignored the panicked look that flashed over Deane’s face through the small portal window next to the hatch as she turned back to the man on the deck.

  “I’m not saying it again! We’ve got you surrounded!”

  The guard yanked his gun from under his coat and searched behind the boat in confusion.

  Before he knew what hit him, Mary Alice took a long running leap, gave the man a huge shove, and tumbled him over the back railing into the harbor. As he surfaced, sputtering and cursing in the murky water, she grabbed her bag, shook out her aching shoulder, and dashed up the gangway toward the dock.

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  “Mary Alice!”

  Bridge could hardly believe what he’d just witnessed as he, Grayson, and the SWAT team they’d summoned on the way had prepared to launch their attack on Watson’s boat. Before they could even move, his pretty angel had single-handedly captured the bad guys—and using one damned cool maneuver.

  What the hell was she thinking?

  He thundered down the marina dock with the others, catching her up by the waist and swinging her in the air. “Thank God, oh, thank God you’re safe.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and dissolved into tears. “Bridge! Is it really you? How did you find me?” She sobbed into his chest, clinging to him as though she’d never let him go.

  Grayson and the team streaked past and poured onto the boat, taking charge of the situation and fishing the flailing guard out of the harbor.

  “What the hell possessed you to pull a stunt like that?” Bridge lambasted Mary Alice as he poured kisses over her face. “They could have killed you! I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you.”

  “I had to get out of there. If I didn’t—”

  “Honey, you should have let Deane handle it. That’s his job—”

  “Deane’s dirty. He sold out to Watson.”

  He groaned. Of course she would think that. “Baby, he was undercover. A plant.”

  “Well, damn.” She leaned her forehead against his shoulder, wiping her eyes. “I never thought of that possibility. I was just so scared.”

  “Don’t ever put yourself in danger like that again. You’ve got to promise me. I couldn’t stand to lose you. Mary Alice, I—” He blinked at the expression on her face as she looked up at him. “What?”

  She just smiled through her tears.

  Suddenly it hit him. “This is what it does to you, isn’t it? When I’m out on the streets?”

  She gave a wry nod, and hiccoughed. “How does it feel?”

  “Lousy. No wonder you don’t want anything to do with me.” Fucking hell. He groaned, tipping his head back. “And suddenly, he gets it.”

  “Bridge, I—”

  May as well get it all over with. He raised his hand like a stop sign. “No, before you tell me to go straight to hell, let me just say a couple of things.”

  “I wouldn’t tell you to go to hell,” she murmured into his neck, snuggling closer. “But go ahead.”

  He laid his cheek to her temple, breathing in the scent of strawberries he’d grown to love so much. “I’m getting a promotion to lieutenant soon. No, it’s already a done deal,” he assured her when she looked up as if she would protest. “Which means I’ll be supervising from behind a desk—with Patrol at first. I will have to rotate back into SIS eventually, but it won’t be for a good while.”

  She looked up into his eyes, her own shining. “You did this…for me?”

  He nodded. “I need you in my life, Mary Alice. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you and keep you there.”

  “Oh, Bridge. Are you sure? I know how much you like the rush and excitement of being in SIS.”

  A thousand sparks of hope bloomed in his heart. This didn’t sound like a kiss-off. Did he really dare hope she still wanted him?

  He gave her his best lopsided grin. “Guess I’ll just have to get my excitement somewhere else. Got any ideas?” He gazed at her lovingly.

  Wishing. Wanting.

  Her expression softened and turned misty. “I might.”

  “Really?” He swallowed, hardly believing his luck. “Does this mean you’ll give me another chance?”

  “No.” She shook her head, and for a horrible moment his heart stopped beating.

  “I’m giving myself another chance,” she said tenderly. “At happiness. I was such a fool to deny the best thing that’s ever hap
pened to me, to turn away the best man a woman could ever hope to want. I love you, Bridge. I’m sorry I was so blind. Can you ever forgive me?”

  “Oh, God.” Relief flooded his body, and he crushed her to him. “I love you, too, Mary Alice. And there’s nothing to forgive. Please, just swear to me you won’t think about it and change your mind later.”

  She raised her lips and captured his in a deep, soulful kiss. “I’ll never change my mind, Russell Bridger, not if I live to be a hundred.” She kissed him again, heating his blood with her certainty and the depth of desire he felt stir in her body. “You know how to count to a hundred, don’t you, Lieutenant?”

  A low rumble came from deep in his throat. “I don’t know, Miss Mary Alice. I’m hopeless at math.” He pulled her even closer.

  “One of your more endearing traits,” she murmured.

  He chuckled as his heart melted. “I might need some serious tutoring in that department. Interested?”

  She smiled as their lips met. “I might have a few nights a week to devote.”

  “Nuh-uh. I’d want you every single night.”

  “Oh, my,” she said breathlessly, and batted her eyelashes.

  “It could take a whole lifetime for me to reach a hundred. You up for that kind of commitment?”

  She sighed into his chest, a contented sound, full of love and promise for the future. “Oh, yes. I wouldn’t take the job for any less.”

  Epilogue

  Bridge stood under the beribboned arch of the blossom-laden rose arbor and, grinning like a fool, placed a gold band on the hand of the woman he loved, and promised to keep her forever.

  Stop! he wanted to shout to the world. Stop and just let me savor this moment!

  He’d waited for this for so long. Mary Alice had insisted on delaying the wedding until the next spring when her roses, and the ones he’d transplanted from his dad’s house, would be in full, resplendent bloom.

  The day had finally arrived, and Mary Alice was radiant, beaming up at him like an angel from heaven, her pale hair glinting red in the sunlight. Her white dress floated delicately on the teasing breeze, as did the heady fragrance of hundreds of roses in full bloom. He glanced down at his side, to Mama’s rose bushes, and could almost feel his mother’s love pouring out from the blossoms.

  His gaze wandered over the crowd of friends gathered around the arbor. His dad and Nancy stood beside them as best man and maid of honor. Bridge secretly winked to little Ivy, who swung her flower-girl basket back and forth in front of her as she watched the ceremony in awe. He spotted Mary Alice’s mother dabbing her eyes in the first row, along with old Mrs. Trent and the ladies of the Historical Rose Society. Behind them were Jason Deane and Captain Trujillo and the rest of the guys from the station. There was the ever-hopeful Gray, ogling one of the teachers from Mary Alice’s nursery school. The old road crew was there, too, complete with Gary and Denise and their new baby. And everywhere he looked, three year-olds ran around or squirmed in their mothers’ laps.

  It was great. Just the kind of wonderful, chaotic wedding day every man should have. His heart filled to bursting as he turned back to his beautiful bride.

  Mary Alice slipped a ring on his finger and in a soft, clear voice made her vows to him. For some reason he suddenly couldn’t focus, the gold band dissolving into a prism of soft colors. He took a shaky breath.

  From somewhere far away he heard someone suggest he kiss the bride. He gathered her in his arms, and amid sighs from the friends and family surrounding them, he tenderly pressed his lips to hers. She smiled up at him, on her face a look of pure devotion.

  “I love you, Mrs. Bridger,” he whispered.

  “And I love you, my darling Lieutenant Bridger.” Her eyes reflected an endless joy. “But you know,” she said, a special smile tilting her pretty lips upward. “I think we’re going to have to work on your math a bit more.”

  “And why’s that?” he said, mildly surprised at her choice of subject at a time like this. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

  She tilted her head and looked coyly through her lashes, then grasped his hand and laid it against her flat stomach. “People will probably tease you about not being able to count to nine.”

  Count to—

  His breath caught in his throat. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? “How far along have we gotten?”

  “Just one. Maybe two. Months.”

  He let out a whoop and swept her up in his arms, giving her a long, joyful kiss.

  “So, what do you suppose did it?” he whispered when he could think again. “The spurs?”

  “Russell Bridger!” She gave him a smack on the arm and giggled. “Of course not!”

  “No, you’re right.” He chuckled wickedly. “They just put a hole in the sheet, not in the—”

  Family and guests descended over them both, showering them with hugs and congratulations. He felt a warm, soft hand slip into his, and heard Mary Alice’s seductive voice in his ear.

  “It must have been your old stop sign,” she whispered. “It does need a sanding.”

  He looked into the laughing eyes of his new wife, and his happiness was complete.

  Sanding, hell. He’d have to remember to have the damn thing bronzed, splinters and all.

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  About the Author

  New York Times and USA Today Best Selling author Nina Bruhns pens adventurous romantic thrillers that contain a unique blend of interesting characters and settings, twisty suspense, and sizzling romance. To date, she has published over 35 award-winning novels:

  3-time Daphne du Maurier Award winner

  National Readers Choice Award winner

  3-time RITA Award nominee

  4-time RT BookReviews Reviewers Choice Award

  #1 Amazon Best Seller in Romantic Suspense, Police Procedurals, Anthologies, and Movers & Shakers Top 30 Amazon Most Popular Romance Authors

  Top 50 Amazon Best Seller in Thrillers, Romance, Action & Adventure, Mystery, Contemporary Romance, Thriller & Suspense, Detective, Anthologies, and Women’s Fiction

  Amazon Germany Top 10 in Krimis & Thriller and Polizeiromane

  Amazon Japan Top 100 in Police Procedurals and Romantic Suspense

  Amazon UK #1 Best Selling author in Anthologies & Collections

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