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What. The. Hell?
Tracy consumed his attention again, rising on her knees to plant hands on her hips. “Let’s set a couple of things straight, mister. I wouldn’t have to be ‘flitting’, if you’d have come to the damn phone even once when I’d called. Do not even think of dreaming up another excuse on that. Second, this isn’t some damn ‘whim’.” She traced a broad circle on the air with the top of her head, including the guys and Mom—and now Dad, showing up behind her—with the motion. “You should be buying at least half a clue on that one by now, right?”
He scowled. Hard. And yeah, it probably did turn him into the goddamned pirate of Rebel’s reference, but it was better than admitting he didn’t comprehend even half her precious “clue”. Stumbling in the dark wasn’t something he handled well on normal days—and this was sure as hell not a normal day.
“Tracy. Fuck.” He topped off the growl by dragging a hand across his head. “I—I don’t know what the hell you’re looking for here.”
She lowered again. Scraped her own fingers across the length of his jaw. “For starters, how about repeating the good shit?”
Deep scowl. “The what?”
She grinned. “Okay, maybe not all of it. Just the part about me being your beauty, and taming your hot ass down. Oh, and that gift-from-the-gods stuff too. Definitely that.”
He swore beneath his breath but ended on a caustic laugh. So she’d been eavesdropping. What the hell did it matter? “I’d be thrilled to repeat all of it with you sitting right here, ku’uipo, but what’s it going to accomplish? You sure as hell can’t re-open that job offer,”—pointing out his Bluebeard patch would’ve insulted even the seagulls’ intelligence so he didn’t—“so there’s no talking about being your Secret Service fling anymore—”
“Oh my God.” She muttered it so fiercely, he expected a chest whack to follow. No such luck. She smacked him with the reproof in her eyes instead. Christ, her eyes. How had he lived a day, let alone weeks, without those dove wing depths? “I knew you were stubborn, but this is ridiculous.”
“Excuse the hell out of me?” Enough was enough. He pushed all the way up to his feet again. “No. don’t excuse me. I’ll do it myself—because clearly, I’m not stubborn. Just really fucking dense.” He spun a glare around the wide circle of his friends. “You all look like a bunch of penises. And you,” he gritted, pointing at the woman who’d matched his jolt with a rise of her own, “are too goddamned gorgeous for even this beach.”
Tracy’s chin, already jutted at him, tightened just a degree more. In a second, she went from gorgeous to outright hot. “Even if I came to this beach to get married?”
And from confusing to outright baffling.
“Married?” Franz shot back. “Now? Tonight?”
As she rolled her eyes, she was joined by her two best friends. Gemini Vann, looking more like Tracy’s sister due to her silky white jumper, folded her arms and imitated the chin toss. “Is he always this quick on the uptake?”
“If so, I’m worried.” The chime, along with a giggle and wink, came from a similarly dressed Veronica Gallo. The small plumeria bouquet in her hands didn’t miss his attention. Gem swept an identical bunch from behind her back before handing Tracy a larger arrangement.
Well…shit.
Pretty as all the blooms were, they didn’t touch Tracy’s laughing beauty as she murmured, “That’s usually the plan when two people are crazy for each other, Captain.”
Still…this crap didn’t compute. It sucked but he wasn’t such a douche he couldn’t cop to hitting the weeds. “You—you can’t get married, Tracy. You need the people’s confidence. The markets need to be—”
“The markets will do just fine.” She tilted her head, kicking up one side of her mouth. “Maybe even a little better, if I’ve got a ring on my finger and a hot military hunk on my arm.”
He went still. Really fucking still. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of stealth missions under his belt, and he didn’t remember concentrating this hard on not moving a damn muscle or taking a single breath. Simply put, he didn’t want to let the moment go. This diamond of an instant, surrounded by his men and basking in an island sunset, in which he hoped—believed—this goddess of a woman was actually standing before him, speaking the words of his craziest fantasies…
Until the instant was gone.
And she didn’t stand next to him anymore.
She knelt in front of him.
As she dropped, slipped her hand into his once more. From that connection, spread her warmth through every inch of him…a sizzling, permeating awareness eclipsed only by the radiance of her upturned face. Her eyes were like sunlight through mist. Her smile held the mystery of a knowing but naughty angel.
His angel.
By the gods. Could it really become truth? Was this really happening? If it all still really was a dream, maybe he didn’t want to know anymore. Because damn, it was the best dream he’d ever had. Most detailed, too. Maki, Nani, Lino, and Luke had even populated the scene, along with an older man looking so much like Tracy, he had no doubt about the guy’s role here.
Which had him freaking about his role here—
Especially as Tracy took a deep breath, and started speaking again.
“Keoni John Franzen,” she whispered. “You know that I love you, more than—”
“No.”
