Chapter 24
Nic was surprised at how many people were in attendance at the scattering of Curtis’s ashes, though he suspected the crowd was there more to support him and Lette than to grieve Curtis’s passing.
Standing at the edge of the pond on the Hillsborough property, he and Lette tossed Curtis’s ashes into the lightly rippling water while Garrett and Victoria, together with Cam, Mary, and Eddie, and Aidan, Jamie, Mel, Danny, Lauren, and Elton, stood below the cypress trees, a silent vigil on their behalf.
Everyone who had helped them survive. Who’d become their family.
Four months later, they closed the house for the final time, turning the keys over to the realtor who’d sold the property. He and Lette, whom he talked to or texted almost daily now, would deliver a check to RAINN. His sister hadn’t wanted another cent of Curtis’s money either.
Past behind them, the next day was all about the future.
With Cam’s brothers and Nic’s retired JAG admiral in tow, they fought the St. Patrick’s Day traffic in San Francisco to make it to the Federal Courthouse for Nic’s swearing-in—as US Attorney for the Northern District of California.
The appointment had been confirmed on the recommendations of Deputy AG Hayward, AD Moore, SAC Talley, the SFPD Chief of Police, and all of the other AUSAs in San Francisco.
Even the AUSAs from San Diego, where he’d subbed in last summer, had sent in letters to the Senate committee overseeing his confirmation.
Thankfully, there’d been very little interruption to the USAO’s work, which hadn’t miraculously stopped with Vaughn’s indictment.
Nic had inherited a deskful from the now discredited and incarcerated Bowers, but with attorneys reenergized and willing to work with him—not for him, he’d emphasized—and with their FBI cooperation better than ever, they’d already made a dent in the backlog.
And they’d officially closed Vaughn’s case, striking a deal that would keep him in jail for life and divest him of all his holdings, legal and otherwise.
A year ago, Nic was unsure if he had a future at the USAO, debating whether to retire and work full time at Gravity.
Now he held the reins, driving an agenda he was proud of and working with attorneys he respected, protecting victims and justice.
And with a team of prosecutors he trusted, who wanted to work with him, balancing his day job with his other gig at Gravity became easier than ever.
He had the best of both worlds officially now.
Nic could have been sworn in in DC after his confirmation hearing last week, but he wanted to do that here in his home courthouse, with his family, friends, and colleagues who’d helped get him here.
He also wanted to be wearing his dress blues at his swearing-in, as a testament to that part of his life and career, many of his JAG colleagues and SEAL teammates also in attendance.
And because at the celebration afterward, Cam’s heated stare from across Gravity’s packed event space was molten, the twinkling overhead lights reflecting like flames in his swirling dark eyes.
The uniform always did it for him. Except those dark eyes hadn’t strayed once to the other uniformed servicepeople in the room.
It was the same reason Nic’s gaze kept roving back to Cam whenever he was between conversations.
Someone clapped him on the shoulder, and Nic turned to find Aidan, grinning like a tipsy leprechaun. About what Nic expected from the Irishman on St. Patrick’s Day and on his and Jamie’s anniversary.
“How many boilermakers have you had?” Nic asked.
Jamie slung an arm over his husband’s shoulders. “Don’t ask that question.”
“Shut it, Whiskey.” Aidan rolled his eyes, then withdrew a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to Nic. “I don’t think this is necessary anymore.”
Nic unfolded the sheet, eyes scanning down the increased insurance certificate he’d given Aidan when he’d moved in with Cam. Another piece of paper appeared over top of it. “Unless, of course, you want to carry that much extra insurance on your own house.”
Nic gasped, staring wide-eyed at the deed in his and Cam’s names. “Talley, are you sure?”
“Am I sure I want to sell—because you are gonna pay market value—my first home to one of my best friends?”
“And to my best friend,” Jamie added, likewise grinning.
“Yes, Dominic, I’m sure.” Stepping out from under Jamie’s arm, Aidan pulled him into a hug. “After all, it’s staying in the family.”
Nic didn’t have the words, so he held on tighter, looking again at the deed over Aidan’s shoulder.
To his and Cam’s home.
They’d made it that already over the past year and now it truly would be. “Thank you,” he said, drawing back. He folded the papers and tucked them inside his jacket, next to his heart. “We’ll take good care of it.”
Aidan cozied back up to Jamie’s side, slinging an arm around his waist. “I’m sure you will, though maybe don’t kill the kitchen again.”
“It’s his kitchen now, Irish,” Jamie said with a wink over Aidan’s grumbled objections. Until Danny shouted for another round at the bar and Aidan enthusiastically heeded the call, dragging the big man behind him.
Laughing, Nic turned, seeking out Cam and coming face-to-face instead with the troublemaking foursome that had become fast, extremely talkative friends, frequently blowing up Nic’s phone with group texts.
Eddie’s and Garrett’s uniforms did nothing to hide the servicemen’s devious expressions.
Nor did Lauren’s and Lette’s party dresses and matching clover tiaras make the arm-locked duo any less suspicious.
“Keg’s tapped,” Eddie said, giving him a thumbs-up.
“And that”—Lauren tossed a dark velvet pouch at Nic—“should be sized right.”
“How’d you manage?” he asked.
“Pretended it was a piece of evidence. Told him his hands were close to the same size as our suspect’s.”
“You pulled a fucking OJ on him?”
She waved her hand in the air, fingers dancing. “Except the glove fit.” He hadn’t intended for Cam to see it but if he hadn’t known what it was, maybe Nic could still pull off the surprise he had planned.
“Can I steal you for five minutes first?” Lette said, interrupting his thoughts.
He held out his elbow, Lette transferred from Lauren’s arm to his, and they walked together around the edge of the crowd.
The overhead lights caught the ruby of his class ring around her neck, and he couldn’t help teasing about another childhood relic.
“You and Lauren exchange BFF necklaces yet?” Not that he minded.
The more he got to know his sister, the more he liked her, and he already thought the world of Lauren.
“Do keys count?” She drew a shiny new one out of her pocket, brandishing it between them. “I can’t wait to be her roommate.”
Nic’s step faltered. “Her roommate?”
“I wanted to surprise you. A gift on your big day.” She smiled, big and bright, just like her mother. “You remember that job I was out here interviewing for?”
“You got it?”
“Damn right I did.” Every bit as cocky as both her brothers too and that was just fine with Nic. Better than, and he couldn’t wait to have her in the Bay Area full time.
“Congrats, Lette.” He clasped both her shoulders, squeezing, and she barreled into his arms, hugging him tight. “Aww, look who’s gettin’ all sappy.”
She reared back, playfully slapping his biceps. “And to make even more trouble for you, Garrett’s put in for a transfer out of the Marines to the Coast Guard unit here. You can thank your boy Eddie for that one.”
His reconnected family here, with him, but it wouldn’t be complete without . . . “Victoria?”
“Will come too, of course.”
This time he scooped his sister up in his arms, Lette yelping with surprise, and Garrett’s and Eddie’s combined “Coasties!” from across the room had him laughing out loud.
Better than the tears that were threatening at the corners of his eyes.
From no family to more than Nic knew what to do with.
It was a problem he was happy to have—an argument he was thrilled to lose, especially now that the threats had been eliminated—and there was one person responsible for making his life whole again, who’d brought him into the fold with their friends, with his family, and then helped save Nic’s too.
He found the cluster of dark heads across the room and caught Keith’s eye. He tilted his head toward the bar, then started making his way there himself, trusting Keith, Quinn, and Bobby to herd their brother that direction too.
Sneaking behind the bar, Nic pulled two pints of stout from their newest tap and held one glass out of sight, below the bar top.
He fished the special delivery from Lauren out of his pocket and dropped it in, waiting for it to hit the bottom with a plunk.
Assured it was settled and relatively hidden in the dark beer, he set the glass next to the other on the bar top, circled back around to the front, and tapped a metal thief against a tap, the pinging noise echoing through the cavernous event center as the music lowered.
“If I can interrupt for a minute,” he said. “I’d like to say a few words.”
Danny started a chant of “Speech! Speech!” that lasted long enough for the Byrne brothers to deposit their charge at the front before moving off to stand with Aidan and Jamie.
Eyes dancing, Cam sidled up to Nic, coasting a hand across Nic’s lower back and resting it on his opposite hip.
Nic found it there on his left hip a lot these days, Cam touching the new tattoo every chance he got.
He’d never forget the look in Cam’s eyes the night he’d revealed the finished design.
Wonder and appreciation, lust and love, swirled together in deep pools of molten heat.
He’d wanted to live there, in that moment, in Cam’s warm dark eyes, for the rest of his life.
Until he’d remembered how much he’d wanted this one and all the others to follow.
“What are you up to?” Cam asked.
“Thanking our guests.”
And more.
He gave Cam’s runaway brow a quick peck before turning back to their gathered friends, family, and colleagues. “I wanted to thank you all for coming out today to the swearing-in and for joining us here to celebrate. When Cam and I first got together—”
“Without telling any of us,” Mel quipped from where she stood next to Danny.
Nic laughed with the crowd. “Says the woman who knew all along.”
She blew him a kiss.
He shot her the middle finger, smiling. “Okay, what was I say—”
“When you two started to bone,” Eddie shouted.
More laughter. More than Nic had ever heard here at Gravity, which only made the moment more special.
“Right,” he said. “When Cam and I first got together, he made me see we don’t celebrate the victories enough.
I’m not exaggerating when I say it’s been the wildest year of my life.
Nor am I exaggerating when I say it’s been the best. So I wanted you all here to celebrate with us, and I wanted you all here for the official unveiling of Gravity’s newest brew, Fighting Boston Irish Stout, a special imperial brewed and named for the man without whom none of this year’s victories would be possible. ”
Cam’s face turned bright red, not expecting to be the center of attention, but it was split by the biggest grin Nic had ever seen on his handsome face. Handing Cam his pint glass, Nic picked up the other and clinked their rims together. “For you, Boston.”
Cam’s arm tightened around his waist. “I like how you celebrate.” He raised the glass and took a sip. His eyes fluttered closed and his features went slack with bliss, a look Nic was more accustomed to seeing from him in bed.
He lowered the glass after another sip, opening his hooded eyes and teasing Nic with a flick of his tongue across his lips.
“Baby, it’s wonderful.” Then he gave Nic a taste of the flavor he craved the most—his beer on Cam’s lips—in a searing kiss that lasted until Eddie and the rest of the soldiers assembled began shouting “Chug, chug, chug.”
As Nic had told them to do.
“Drink up,” he encouraged Cam, and struggled not to appear too eager as Cam tilted his pint back for more. Nor too knowingly excited when Cam startled at the object inside the glass bumping his lips.
Brow furrowed, Cam lowered the glass and tipped it over. Into his palm fell a black titanium ring with an electric blue band around the middle. The same color highlights from Cam’s hair on that undercover gig last April, the one during which Nic had fallen in love with him.
Cam gasped out a “Dominic.”
Nic snagged the ring from his palm, then went down on one knee to thunderous shouts and applause. He was asking, officially, in front of all their friends and family.
“Boston, will you marry me?”
Cam’s dark eyes were a mix of fire and water, heated to burning and on the brink of tears. “I thought we already went over this.”
Nic smirked. “I don’t remember you saying—”
“Yes!”
Nic shot to his feet, slid the ring on Cam’s finger, and hauled his fiancé, officially, into a back-bending kiss.
When they righted themselves, coming up for air, Cam rested his forehead against Nic’s. “Just one question,” he said.
“You already said yes, Boston.”
“Will you dance with me at our wedding?”
“I’ll dance with you every day for the rest of our lives.”
Cam kissed him again, hard, and Nic relished the love on his lips and in his arms, the promise of home in his jacket pocket, and the support of his friends and family all around them.
A future—a happily ever after—Nic never thought he’d get.
Victory was his.
Theirs.
Case closed.
Thank you for reading!