“Rafe Maguire, you’ve finally crossed to the dark side!” Laughing hysterically, Mollie ran up to Rafe and tickled his ribs. “You just praised the Cranberry Festival. Wow. My work here is clearly done.” With a toss of her long brown hair onto the back of her cranberry red tank top, she turned to dart off.
But Rafe’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist to stop her. “Don’t. Don’t even joke about being done with me, Doc.”
“I was only teasing—”
He cut her off with a finger to her lips. “Doesn’t matter. Can’t stand the thought of losing you. Hell—” he dropped his pliers on the ground “—I can’t wait any longer.”
“To do what? Finally smile and lick your lips when you eat cranberries?”
“I’ve got a better use for them.” Off the top of the electrical box, he grabbed the cranberry-and-flower wreath Sierra made that Flynn had just handed off. Red and white ribbons trailed off the back. After holding it at eye level long enough for her to register, Rafe settled it gently on her head.
Holy shit. He was going for it. Right here, right now.
Kellan exchanged an excited glance with Flynn. Gave his big brother a silent-thumbs up. And was grateful as hell that he got to witness Rafe taking such a monumental step. This was heads and tails better than sitting next to him at the trial.
“I tried to wait, Doc. I wanted to do this tonight, on the stage, and make a big deal out of it. But I can’t wait. I can’t live another minute without hearing you promise that you won’t ever walk away from me.”
“Rafe, no, I wouldn’t leave you. What’s going on?” Mollie’s hands floated up to pat the wreath. “You look so serious.”
“This damned thing’s burning a hole in my pocket. If it stays in there any longer, I won’t be any use to you in bed.”
“Well, we can’t have that . . . oh . . . .” Her voice trailed off when she saw him pull out the square red leather box. “You don’t have to do this. We can wait. Until, you know, after everything’s settled. After October.”
That, right there? Proved that Mollie really was the one for Rafe. How many women would try and slough off an obvious diamond ring to keep their man calm?
“Fuck October.” Rafe’s expression was fierce. Like his whole life distilled down to this moment, this question. “It can’t mess with how much I love you. There’s no waiting. There’s only you and me. And I’m promising you forever, Doc, if you’ll take it. You could find a richer man, one with a squeaky-clean past. But I swear you’ll never find anyone who loves you more, who works harder every single day to make you happy. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“I don’t want a good man. Talk about boring.” Eyes already brimming, Mollie caressed Rafe’s cheek. “I love the streak of bad in you.”
Rafe dropped to one knee. Thumbed open the box. And didn’t seem to notice that his hip was up against a giant cranberry balloon, and that he had to shout a little to be heard over the din of the festival-goers packing the street. “Then will you marry me, Doctor Mollie Vickers? Will you let me kiss you awake every morning and fucking drench you in my love for the rest of our lives?”
Only his ex-mobster brother would find a way to use fuck in a marriage proposal—and make it sound good. Talk about legendary. Guess there were still a few things Kellan could learn from him.
Two tears tracked down Mollie’s face, blurring the tiny cluster of cranberries painted on one cheek. “Yes. Yes, I love you. Yes, I want to share forever with you. Please be mine forever, Rafe Maguire.” She held out a shaking hand and he slid on the pear-shaped diamond surrounded by a halo of rubies. Mollie gasped once she really eyeballed it.
She zoomed her ring finger up to right in front of her face. “Would those be cranberry red rubies, by any chance, you big softie?”
Rafe shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. “I know how important Bandon is to you. How much you love it here. How much the town did for you once your mom left. I thought, since it brought us together, it was only right to give it a nod.”
That brought on a steady stream of tears. Kellan looked away while they kissed. Well, he watched it at first, until it quickly turned from romantic to way too R rated for a city street. In unspoken agreement, he and Flynn turned their backs and formed a bit of a shield for the lovebirds until the smooching sounds died down.
“We’re thrilled to have you join the family.” Flynn hugged Mollie with one arm, and gave Rafe a high-five with the other.
“Yeah—it’s great to know that if I’m wounded in the line of duty, I’ll have a doctor in residence to patch me up,” Kellan joked as he hugged her, too.
“No. Hell, no,” Rafe roared. “This whole house-sharing thing ends the moment we get back from our . . . ah . . . trip. You two can keep the place. Mollie’s leaving her gran’s, too. We’ll find our own love nest.”
This time her left hand sort of fluttered up to her face. “Oh, I have to tell Gran. I mean, I want to stay here and kiss you some more, but she’ll be so tickled . . .”
“Go. Hurry back, but go take your victory lap past Elena, Karen, and Lily, too.” Mollie gave Rafe one last wet smack before literally running off down the street, one hand clutched tight to her crown.
Kellan clapped him on the back. It wasn’t enough. Even for the very much non-hugging Maguire brothers. He moved in front and gave a squeeze that Rafe’s ribs would hopefully be protesting for days. “Way to go, bro.”
Rafe looked down. Then he reeled back a few steps, off the sidewalk toward the elevated stage. “My hands are shaking. Holy fuck, it worked. She said yes.”
Flynn pumped that shaking hand up and down at least five times, with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Best day’s work you’ve ever done.”
“Surprised you could cram it in after being so busy screwing me over.” From deep in the shadows beneath the stage came Davey O’Brien’s voice. This time he held two guns, both pointed at the tight cluster of the Maguires.
Shit. Shit. This was a hundred times worse than when he’d surprised them on the beach. Because of two words—collateral damage.
He was here for the Maguires, but their lives weren’t the only ones at risk. Any action Kellan took could end up with Davey shooting wild and endangering the tourists and townsfolk innocently walking by.
With the stage being at the far end of the festival area, nobody was really crossing behind them. Or looking their way, even. Davey was hidden pretty well. So Kellan needed to draw him out, get him visible. Attention was for sure the last thing the mobster wanted.
But Mateo was out there patrolling, along with a couple of deputies from Coquille helping out. No doubt Delaney was carrying, too, even though she was here unofficially, hanging out with Sierra.
He could try to edge behind Rafe for cover and dial 911 on the phone in his pocket. No guarantee he’d blindly hit the right numbers, though. The one thing Kellan knew that he couldn’t do was fire on Davey. His aim was true, but his draw wasn’t that fast yet. By the time he got a shot off, Davey would have more than enough time to fire both of his guns. And from this distance, chances of his missing were slim.
“What are you talking about, Davey?” Rafe’s tone was calm, his voice steady. “And what are you doing here? We had a deal.”
“We did. I was dumb enough to trust that you’d stick by your word.”
“We will.” Rafe held out his arms, palms up. He used the gesture to hide the fact that he took a couple of steps backward. Away from the stage, in an attempt to lure Davey out the same way Kellan had envisioned. “Nothing’s changed. Soon as we get to Chicago, we’ll get the money and hand it over.”
“Everything’s changed!” Droplets of spit flew from his mouth as Davey—gratifyingly—took three hurried steps forward. The guns wavered, too. “The money’s gone. Didn’t you see the news?”
Flynn spun in a wide circle, arms up, with much more dramatic flair than normal. Also trying to attract attention. It was like they’d all choreographed these
moves to get Davey out on the street. “Buddy, you see this craziness we’re in the middle of? This has been our whole world this week. So how about you clue us in as to why you’re pissed enough to be holding us up?”
“Some kids found your stash. Trying to hold a séance or some dumb stunt. Two million in a grave at Lakeside Cemetery sound familiar? Because as soon as it hit the news, Danny McGinty knew right off what it was. He’s pissed as hell that you used our hiding spot for it.”
“Why?” Rafe bluffed. Another wave of his hands. Another couple of steps back, up onto the sidewalk. “He can’t claim we stole anything when it’s in a known mob spot. Danny should be thrilled that we thought to hide it there from the Feds.”
“Nice try. I’m not buying it.” As he jabbed the gun in his right hand, Davey came all the way to the edge of the stage overhang. “And the mob sure as hell can’t touch it now. Those kids turned it over to the police. More to the point, you can’t get at it anymore and give it to me. You fucking two-timers. You played me.”
“For fuck’s sake, Davey. We didn’t hire ourselves some gullible teens to go ghost hunting. It was just bad luck that it was found. We didn’t have jack shit to do with that.”
Kellan’s mind raced at this information. What did it mean? Was the deal off? What was O’Brien’s plan now, aside from the whole gun-waving thing? And had he told Danny about the Maguires? Would they have to relocate if they survived the next ten minutes?
“You must have more money. You had to know there was a chance someone on McGinty’s crew would think to check that tomb eventually. You’re fucking still going to pay me off, or I’ll squeal.”
Rafe’s voice arrowed out, razor sharp. “So, you didn’t tell him about us?”
“Of course not. I want the damned money. I don’t want to split it with a man who’s going to spend the rest of his life in prison. But if you play me again, I will tell him. I’ll tell him about that pretty woman you just put a ring on, too.”
Sierra clutched Delaney’s arm and pointed down the street. “Oh, look, Mollie’s wearing the crown I made her. And she’s running like she’s trying to set a land speed record.”
Nibbling around the edge of a cranberry double chocolate cookie the size of a dinner plate, Delaney said, “I guess that means Rafe popped the question early. Probably couldn’t handle waiting. When I saw him this morning, he was already jittering around like a kid on meth. It was kind of adorable.”
“Was it hard for you? Keeping the secret from her for three days? I know I could barely do it.” Sierra grinned. “I canceled lunch with her yesterday just so I wouldn’t be tempted to spill.”
Delaney thought about the secret she and Kellan were keeping from everyone. For about the millionth time, she pushed down the impulse to put her hand on her belly. Because that gesture was one heck of a giveaway as to what was going on in her body.
“Sierra, I keep secrets for a living, remember? Life and death are pretty much riding on the line for me to hide what I know about my protectees. So no, I didn’t have any trouble keeping the imminent proposal from Mollie.”
Delaney was over-the-moon happy for Rafe and Mollie. Their big news, however, was about seventeenth down in her list of obsessions currently circling her brain like a swarm of bees.
She’d been beyond busy with the task force. They’d arrested someone on Thursday that not only tied to the bombings, but also opened up a lot of avenues to finding a drug distribution circle that had set up shop here on the coast.
Not to mention the small matter of thinking about being pregnant all the time, scheduling a doctor’s visit for next week to make it official, and trying to figure out if she could still be not just an effective marshal, but the best possible marshal.
And, oh, Kellan. How crazy she was about him. How crazy it would be if they actually figured out a way to be together. How impossible it would be to stay a marshal and be living with a former protectee.
How impossible it would be to not be with him and raise this child together.
Sierra tugged on her arm, pulling Delaney up the street. “Let’s go congratulate Rafe.”
“Do you want to congratulate Rafe, or do you want to go give your own boyfriend a big old smooch?” she teased.
Flynn and Sierra were one of those couples that always stuck together, like magnets. It was sweet to watch. It also made Delaney more than a little jealous. In a perfect world, she and Kellan wouldn’t be hiding anything, and they’d get to PDA all over the place in front of their friends and family, too.
“Both,” Sierra admitted, laughing.
Delaney handed over the cookie in trade for Sierra’s cranberry candied apple. “Didn’t you walk with him in the parade next to his float just a couple of hours ago?”
Stopping in her tracks, Sierra threw back her head and dramatically put the back of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, geez, thanks for rubbing it in that I haven’t kissed Flynn in hours. We’d better hurry.”
“How do you plan to find them in this crowd?”
“Flynn said Rafe had to tinker with the electrical box by the stage. I think Kellan was meeting up with them, too.”
That put a hustle in her step. Because Delaney hadn’t seen Kellan in hours, either. Sure, he was working, but she’d hoped they’d get to hang out at least a little at the festival. Ogling him in his uniform was her new favorite thing to do. He filled it out like every sexy cliché of a law enforcement hottie.
Thanks to his height, it was easy to spot his hat in a relatively empty section by the stage. Automatically she scanned for two dark heads with his same height and build. Looked like Rafe and Flynn were with him.
But . . . her quick scan doubled back. The bald man facing them, just out from the overhang of the stage, looked familiar. “Hang on a second,” she said, grabbing Sierra probably a little too hard.
“What is it?”
“I need to think. Just . . . wait.” Delaney closed her eyes. Tried to place the face that had sent a chill up her spine. And then it hit her. As SOP, she’d memorized the faces of everyone in McGinty’s crew. It gave her an edge in protecting the Maguires while they were still in Chicago, and even five moves later, she still reviewed the photos once a month to stay sharp.
That man was a Chicago mobster. She didn’t remember his name, but she’d swear he worked for McGinty. The fact that he was standing less than ten feet from the Maguire brothers couldn’t be a coincidence.
And it couldn’t be anything but dangerous.
But she’d stop whatever he had planned. There was no way she’d gone through so much to keep the Maguires safe for ten long months that she’d let some pissant mobster who evidently wasn’t even important enough to be indicted and jailed bring them down.
Pissant idiot was more like it. Clearly, he wasn’t smart enough to know what he was up against with the U.S. Marshals Service.
Delaney dropped the apple. Then she whipped her phone out of the pocket of her red shorts. “Call the sheriff. Not 911, just Mateo directly. He’s in my contacts. Say I told you that I need immediate backup at the stage. He’ll understand.” She thrust Sierra at the nearest shop door. “Do it from inside. Don’t come back out at all until I come and get you.”
“What’s wrong?”
She’d always suspected—but not been able to prove—that Sierra knew all of Flynn’s secrets. Right now, she hoped it was true. Delaney needed her to be scared enough to heed the warning and stay safe.
“I think Flynn and Rafe’s past just caught up with them. Now go.”
Looking to her right, she saw the vast majority of people streaming off the street. It must be almost time for the Cranberry Bowl kickoff. Good news in terms of potential collateral damage, although even the handful of people left could be in danger. Delaney needed to take down the mobster before he even realized she was coming for him.
If only Rafe’s big body wasn’t blocking her view of anything besides his head. Did he have a gun? A knife? Or was he just here to threaten th
e Maguires? Maybe try to bribe them into not testifying?
Delaney reached into her purse. She angled her approach more to the right, to get around Rafe to make a full assessment. If she took her gun out now, the woman in the pink flowered hat might see, react, and freak out. Said freak-out could lead to a chain reaction of an attack that could be prevented. On the other hand, if she didn’t take out her gun now and nameless mobster was armed, she’d be a minute too late in her reaction to whatever he had planned.
Rafe, Flynn, and oh, God, Kellan could all be victims.
Damn it. There wasn’t time for fear. That’d flood in later, when this was over and she relived however it turned out a thousand times. Now there was only focus and training and the absolute belief that she could and would prevent any harm from coming to those three men.
Cursing her noisy red flip-flops, Delaney stepped out of them. And then kept walking, right at the stage as she pulled out her gun. She had it arcing up and out, her left hand moving to steady it while she identified herself as a marshal. But before she could wrap her left hand around the grip, a woman screamed GUN at the top of her lungs at the same moment a shot rang out.
It came from the mobster and the dull black gun he held out sideways, gangster style, pointed right at her.
Shit! Delaney squeezed and fired. Weirdly, it looked like she missed, since he didn’t so much as waver, aside from the cruel smile spreading on his thin lips.
But she never missed a target.
Except . . . she wasn’t standing still. She’d missed because she’d already started falling to the ground. Screams sounded all around her.
Confused, and, ow, suddenly on her knees on the hot asphalt, Delaney looked down.
Blood spilled out of a black-edged hole in the side of her white tank top.
Then she heard yet another gunshot. Looked back up to see Kellan, arms locked, service weapon smoking as he stood over the man who’d, holy crap, shot her. A second later, Flynn viciously kicked the prone body.
Good. The Maguires were safe. Delaney slipped from her knees the rest of the way to the ground. Falling didn’t hurt. Nothing really hurt.
Got it Bad Page 27