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Fifteen
Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. It was one of the places Colleen had loved most as a child, so when she and Mark—and Red and Ragnar—were ordered to take a few days of vacation time, Mark had suggested it because she’d talked so fondly about it. And they were close.
No travel arrangements had to be made other than the booking of a charming bed-and-breakfast. Colleen’s neighbor would check on Jensen while she was on vacation.
To her surprise, Megan had taken a few days off too. Her publisher had insisted, and once everyone at her job got over being grateful Megan was fine—they were also thrilled and intrigued.
Though her publishing house was famous for its sci-fi books, they thought a nonfiction book by a woman who had nearly become a victim of “The Embracer killings” would be an amazing thing to have on their list.
Megan was still undecided.
And she didn’t really want to be alone right away. That was natural. So, she came to Harpers Ferry.
Ragnar figured it was an easy jaunt too.
So by day, Mark and Colleen were occasionally joined by the still-bickering pair while white water rafting, hiking, touring, and roaming the shops.
Mark had told Colleen that coming here was an idea—just an idea. Maybe she wanted a beach—far from any woods.
But Colleen had determined she wasn’t going to be afraid of the woods or nature, and so they enjoyed the hiking, rafting, and the sights.
She especially loved Jefferson Rock—named after Thomas Jefferson, who had written about the view in his Notes on the State of Virginia. The area had been part of the state of Virginia back then. It hadn’t split off until the Civil War.
But it didn’t matter what the area had been called when—the view was stupendous. The Potomac and the Shenandoah Rivers met there. From the rock, she could see rushing water and rapids and mountains and valleys. It was simply beautiful.
She loved the history of the place too, the national park plus all there was to be learned.
And she loved the quiet that could be found, the time they spent together, laughing, teasing, being passionate, and discovering more about each other and loving each discovery.
It was while they lay in bed one night, just enjoying the plush comfort of the mattress of their charming nineteenth-century bed-and-breakfast rental, when Mark suddenly turned to her and said, “I think we should just get married.”
“What?” Colleen exclaimed.
He shrugged. “Lots of us are couples. It doesn’t work that way in the main Bureau. I mean, agents can be together and married, but they’re in separate units or areas. In the Krewe, well, we’re the weird unit. And we kind of work best together, you know? So...”
She smiled. “Honestly, we’ve barely been together.”
“That doesn’t matter to me. I’ve never just...known. But I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you in any way. Hey. You said you might want a dog like Red. I think Red would love a second owner like you.”
She laughed. “Marriage for a dog! Haven’t heard that one yet.”
“Couples fight over pets in divorce cases all the time,” he said gravely.
She rolled over, edging on top of him. She loved the darkness of his eyes and the way his dark hair, damp now, fell over his forehead. And she loved the strength and life she felt in his body as she pressed against it, grinning.
“I promise I’ll never take Red. But I’ll never divorce you either.”
He frowned slightly. “Is that a yes?”
“For the sake of the child—er, dog—of course.”
“Big wedding? You have a family—”
“No. Megan can have the big wedding. I think we should just surprise everyone.”
“Courthouse?” he asked her.
“And maybe a small church wedding and reception somewhere along the line.”
“It’s a plan,” he said gravely.
She eased down on him, whispering just above his lips, “Wow. We’re engaged, and I guess we should seal the deal, don’t you think?”
He smiled.
Engaged was good.
His kiss was hot, wet, passionate...
Later, before they slept, she whispered, “Engaged sex is really great.”
“Thank you.”
“Hey! There were two of us.”
“And I thank you,” he said softly.
