"You proposed," Mace says quietly as we walk. "During a tactical extraction. While bleeding from a gunshot wound."
"Seemed like the right moment."
"You're insane."
"Probably." I grin despite the pain. "She said yes, though."
Mace shakes his head, but I catch the hint of a smile on his face. "Yeah, she did. Congratulations, Deck."
"Thanks."
"Now shut up and let us save your life so you can actually make it to the wedding."
I shut up.
But I'm still smiling when they put me under.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
VIVIAN
Three weeks later, I watch Dominic Castellano's face as the jury foreman reads the verdict.
"Guilty on all counts."
The courtroom erupts. Castellano's attorneys leap to their feet, shouting objections that go nowhere. The gallery buzzes with reporters and spectators. Federal marshals move in to take him into custody.
But I only see Deck.
He's in the back row, where he's been every day of the trial. His left arm is still in a sling—Cade says it'll be another month before he has full mobility—but his eyes are sharp and alert, scanning the room for threats even now.
Those green eyes find mine across the chaos, and he smiles.
It's over.
The Castellanos are finished. Dominic will spend the rest of his life in federal prison. The contractors who attacked us have been arrested, and Carver is facing twenty years for his role in compromising witness protection.
I'm free.
The realization doesn't fully hit me until hours later, after the press conferences and the debriefs and the endless paperwork. Marshal Taylor shakes my hand and tells me I'm the bravest witness he's ever worked with. The US Attorney offers me my job back, a corner office, whatever I want.
I tell her I'll think about it.
Because what I want is standing in the hallway outside, leaning against the wall with his good shoulder, waiting for me.
"Hey." I walk into his arms like I've been doing it my whole life. "Miss me?"
"Every second." He kisses my forehead, my temple, the corner of my mouth. "Ready to go home?"
Home. The word still sends a thrill through me.
We decided two weeks ago that I'd move to Whisper Vale permanently. I gave notice on my San Francisco apartment and had my things shipped to the cabin. My mother's assisted living facility has a sister location in Reno, only two hours away, and I've already started the transfer paperwork.
My old life is over. My new one is just beginning.
The drive back to the mountains takes four hours. Deck drives one-handed while I control the music, and we argue about everything from dinner plans to wedding dates to whether we're getting a dog.
"I want a big one," I say. "Something intimidating."
