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She snuggled into his arms as a nighttime stillness settled outside, and a breeze rustled the new leaves on the old poplar tree just beyond their bedroom window, filling the room with a soft, whispering sound.
“How was your day?” she murmured.
“Busy, filled with training as usual.” He draped his leg over hers and she smoothed her hands up, slowly mapping the contours of his back. “You? Kick anyone’s ass yet?”
She chuckled, too spent to move. She savored the heady sensation of contentment, loving the feel of his smooth skin beneath her touch. She found a ridge of scar tissue on his chest, the knife wound he’d gotten in Banja Luka so long ago before she knew him.
That reminded her. “2-Stroke called today. He said Aleksandar graduated with honors from high school.”
“That’s one good kid,” Preacher said. “Well worth saving and nothing like his Uncle Darko.”
“I agree.” She remembered Alek as a handsome teenager when she and Volk had been assigned to protect him from repercussions from Darko Stjepanic, a powerful Balkan crime lord, and Zasha Vasiliev, Fast Lane’s former CIA liaison and treasonous bitch who had been under the alias Kelly Sparks. “Anyway, he’s going to BUD/S.”
“Hoo-yah! That’s amazing news.” He captured her hand and brought it to his mouth kissing her palm with a soft smile. “Are you changing the subject because you did kick ass?”
She huffed a laugh. “No, I didn’t kick anyone’s ass…yet.”
Stirring heavily, he kissed her wrist, then her mouth. “Do you miss it? Regret the decision to give up the CIA?”
“No,” she said softly. His mouth was moist and warm and slightly swollen, and she drew her thumb across his bottom lip, thinking about the care he’d taken with her. “It gives me more time with you, and I want all the time in the world with you.”
She felt him smile, then he lifted his head and looked down at her, the faint glow from the yard light catching in his eyes. “I love you, babe, more than I can say. As long as you’re content, I’m content.”
She pulled him down for another kiss, knowing that her life was so complete. She had Preacher and her job and in the back of her mind, there would be children…maybe soon. That’s all she would ever need.
* * *
Celeste satat the vanity in her hotel room where she was getting ready to marry Remington Nash, then she would be heading over to the Norfolk Botanical Garden, specifically, the stunning Sarah Lee Baker Perennial Garden where they would say their vows outside in front of a limestone fountain and terraced canals. She was putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She looked up pensively at Rose, Luna, and her mom’s reflections in the mirror. “How’s that?”
“You look gorgeous.”
“Radiant.”
“Beautiful, Celeste.” Her mother beamed. “I had such high hopes for this day, and here it is. My daughter, a hero against a terrible terrorist. I’m so proud of you, and you know how much your father and I love Remmy.” She bent down and kissed Celeste’s cheek. “I’m going to find Diana. I’ll be back.” She left the room.
She breathed a sigh of relief that No Safe Haven had been demolished, and the architect of terror, Aaron Trasker was dead and wouldn’t hurt anyone ever again. The government had seized all his assets, putting his hotel empire up for sale, some of the money earmarked for reparations to France, Bolivia, and London, along with cash settlements to all the victims' families. It was a fitting end.
“I don’t understand this ritual,” Ailee said from Celeste’s phone. Celeste had engineered it so that Ailee could talk to her whenever she wanted to while the AI performed her many duties for the NSA computer system. “What is makeup and why is it necessary for this arbitrary ceremony?”
“She doesn’t understand why I’m going through all of this,” Celeste said.
“She doesn’t get marriage?” Luna asked. Her brows arched.
“No,” Celeste replied. Her friend was a brilliant machine, but she had yet to completely comprehend what love was.
“But she understands love. Romantic love?”
“I am right here listening,” Ailee said impatiently. “Love. Romantic love is a combination of attraction and idealization resulting from a bonded relationship. Love is complicated, eliciting strong emotions. This kind of love has inspired artists for centuries and been the subject of countless plays, songs, movies, books, and other creative outlets. There are many forms of love. Friendship, infatuation, unrequited love, platonic love. There are many phases of romantic love?—”
“Ailee. You know the terms of everything, but not the emotions. Love is here.” Celeste covered her heart. It’s a combination of affection, admiration, and connection.”
“And you connect so much with GQ you want to go through an elaborate and costly ritual? Does he not know where your love lies?”
“It’s a ceremony where we pledge ourselves to each other in front of witnesses. It fulfills our need to express our love to each other in a public way, to share it with others.”
“Have you, Rose, and you, Luna, been through this ritual? Exposed yourself in public?”
“Yes,” Luna said, laughing softly. “I married Preacher…Boyce. He saved me when I was lost, helped me find myself, and through it all, we found each other.”
