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Marc stood again and tapped her chair. “Sit. You look ready to fold.”
Did everyone in this house realize how shaky she was?
She slipped back into her seat without argument. “I have news. You’ve received the family stamp of approval.”
“Good to hear.” He rested his elbow on the table, propped his chin on his fist, and played with the ends of her hair. “But I’m more interested in getting the stamp of approval from a blond I know.”
Her respiration lost its rhythm. “Consider it done.”
He scooted his chair closer. “Prove it.”
“I thought we had a dinner planned tomorrow to launch our transition to dating?”
“The dinner’s still on the books, but I’m accelerating the dating timetable—with all its perks. Any objections?”
A delicious flutter rippled through her as she draped her arms around his neck. “Not a one. But we’ll have to work around parts of my face.”
“No worries. I would never, ever do anything to hurt you, Bri.” His voice hoarsened.
“I know that.” Her own throat clogged. “I would trust you with my life, Marc Davis—and coming from a woman who’s stingy with her trust, that’s about the highest compliment I could pay you.”
He stroked her uninjured cheek with a feather-light touch, the tenderness in his eyes filling her with warmth and joyand hope. “Thank you for that. And now I have an admission to make.”
“Lay it on me.”
“I had a feeling the day we met at the fire scene that the sparks between us were going to lead to something big.”
She gave him a slow smile. “Is that a prediction or a promise?”
“It’s a promise. Starting now.”
With that, he oh-so-carefully claimed her lips.
Bri leaned into the kiss, giving back 100 percent as gratitude flowed through her.
For who could have guessed, back on the September day they’d met amid ashes and cinders, that the man who’d invaded her professional turf would end up staking a personal claim on her heart? Or that she would cede that private, guarded territory so fast and take a gamble on a happily-ever-after with him?
But in truth, it wasn’t much of a gamble. Marc was the real deal. Men didn’t come any finer than the ATF agent who’d partnered with her on the Kavanaugh case.
And unless her instincts were failing her big-time, another sort of partnership was waiting for them in the not-too-distant future. One that would be filled with the kind of love dreams were made of.
In fact ... if she were a wagering woman, she’d bet the house—and her heart—on that very outcome.
Epilogue
HE WAS A MARRIED MAN.
Grinning, Marc tugged open his black bow tie, unfastened the top button of his shirt, and took a long, slow, satisfied breath.
Until Bri had walked down the aisle in her knockout bridal gown, it had all seemed too good to be true. Like a fantasy that comes in a dream and then slips away, no matter how hard you try to hold on to it.
But this was real. She’d said I do, he had the ring on his finger to prove his new husband status, and the two of them had checked into the bridal suite of one of St. Louis’s high-end hotels as man and wife. Tomorrow they’d wing east for their Paris honeymoon, with a side trip to the Pyrenees.
What could be more perfect?
As Bri flipped on the faucet behind the closed door of the bathroom, Marc shrugged out of his tux jacket, pausing at a crinkle sound in his pocket.
Oh, right. The envelope Nan had slipped him as he and Bri prepared to leave the reception, with an instruction to open it tonight.
