Epilogue 2
RAV
I couldn’t stop touching Brooke’s bare shoulder.
My thumb traced small circles on her warm skin—skin that had been hidden under turtlenecks and long sleeves for so long she must have forgotten what it felt like under sunlight.
The spaghetti straps of her dress left her scars exposed, highlighting the chaotic spattering of healed areas interspersed with the still-damaged ones.
I took in a long breath, inhaling the scents of a million flowers surrounding us on the island. It had been torn apart by a hurricane six and a half months ago, but nature always found a way to heal.
Six and a half months. When Brooke had come back into my life, after her team had assaulted the data center hidden under this island, taken us into custody, and all hell had broken loose.
And just like that hurricane, which had torn apart the island so it could heal, that incursion had started my own healing journey.
I kissed Brooke’s shoulder.
“You’re supposed to be watching the bridesmaids go down the aisle,” she murmured, not taking her eyes off the processional.
“Can’t help it.” I leaned closer, my lips brushing her ear. “You’re the most beautiful woman here.”
She turned slightly, and the look in her eyes—
Calisse, it still knocked me sideways.
The string quartet shifted into the wedding march, and everyone stood. I helped Brooke up, my hand finding the small of her back. In the crowd, I saw our entire family—because that’s what they were, all of them.
From the second row, Zac watched as Ashley passed him, heading for the front.
I remembered them in Boston, ducking into our getaway car after Zac’s hand had been sliced open in an unfortunate incident.
Ashley had fought against the obvious attraction she had for him, even after they’d broken up, because she joined the FBI.
She’d left the FBI last year and was now Brie’s right-hand in our software division.
Emmett stood beside the altar as Malcolm’s best man, steady as a rock despite the fact that nine months ago, he’d been ready to tear the world apart when Fenix took Jenn in Monaco.
The way he watched her now, as she stopped at the front, you’d never know he’d once been the guy who couldn’t admit what he felt.
He’d gone through so many changes over the past year. Kidnapping had a way of doing that to a person. At least he was finally in counseling and had admitted everything to Jenn.
Malcolm stood at the altar, and even from here, I could see his hands shaking slightly.
The composed private investigator who’d walked into our lives after the kidnapping, all smooth charm and hidden depths.
He’d saved Scarlett from Noah’s people in Venice when I couldn’t get to her fast enough.
He’d proven himself a dozen times over, and somehow convinced Scarlett—our untouchable, unbreakable Scarlett—to let him in.
The way he looked at her walking toward him, like she was his whole world…
Yeah, he was good enough for her, although it had taken me a while to admit it.
Will was probably the calmest of them all. He and Brie simply belonged together. How it had taken them so long to figure that out was beyond me. Nothing like pretending to be married to make you realize you actually want to be.
Across the aisle, Declan had his fingers intertwined with Leigh’s. The Roman catacombs had brought them together. Declan, who’d always been better with safes than people, had finally found someone who understood his language.
Jayce sat a row ahead of them, not eating for once, but clearly uncomfortable after sitting still for more than ten minutes.
Drew had his arm around her while she whispered endlessly in his ear.
Gideon stood on his other side, the tech billionaire having become friends with Drew since our job for him in Washington.
My family was complete. Our company was thriving.
And finally, we didn’t have to worry about Fenix anymore.
The officiant invited us all to sit, and the ceremony began.
I found myself studying Brooke’s profile, and she bit her lip, trying not to cry. She’d been so emotional the past week as we prepared for this trip.
My hand found hers, and she squeezed back without looking away from the altar.
Her collaboration with Pendragon’s science division had been eating at me lately.
Not because I didn’t want her working—she was brilliant, and her research into why Greek Fire had healed rather than destroyed her could change the world.
But Pendragon meant travel and meant time apart—two things I hated.
The officiant said something about love being patient, love being kind, and I pressed another kiss to Brooke’s shoulder.
She shivered slightly and leaned toward me to whisper, “I know we’ve talked about pushing Pendragon to open a lab in Halifax, so I don’t have to travel so much, but I’ve been thinking about taking a leave of absence instead.”
My heart rate kicked up, but I did my damnedest to keep my voice down. “Really? How long were you thinking?”
She turned slightly, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, maybe nine months or so.”
Nine months. That was… specific. Oddly specific. “Any particular plans for those nine months?”
“Well,” she said, her smile growing, “maybe nine months plus a year or so after that?”
The world tilted. I stared at her, and the ceremony faded into the background.
Nine months. Plus a year. Her hand had been resting on her stomach all afternoon.
She’d declined alcohol last night at the rehearsal dinner.
The way she was looking at me with that barely contained joy mixed with nervousness—
“Nine months?” My voice came out rough.
Her smile broke free. “Surprise?”
“But you’re on birth control.”
“Nothing’s perfect.” She shrugged. “And honestly? Maybe the regenerative properties went further than my skin?”
Oh. Mon. Dieu.
“Is this… is this a good thing?” she asked, uncertainty creeping into her voice. “Because if you’re not ready, or if you don’t want—”
I kissed her. Right there in the middle of the wedding ceremony, I turned in my chair and cupped her face and kissed her like my life depended on it. Someone behind us cleared their throat. Someone else chuckled.
And I didn’t care.
My hand found her stomach, resting gently where our child was growing. Our child. My years in therapy had taught me to recognize feelings, to name them rather than drown in them.
This feeling had a name: Joy.
Pure, uncomplicated joy.
“Marry me,” I said. The words just happened. “Right now. Today. We can get a license after this. Maybe we’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Hell, we can take the boat to Grand Bahama right now—”
“Rav,” she laughed, tears streaming down her face. “The ceremony—”
“I don’t care about the ceremony. I care about you. About us.”
At the altar, the officiant said something about hands. I glanced at them to see Scarlett smiling at Malcolm as she placed a ring on his finger. Brie was trying not to cry while Will looked like he might faint from happiness.
Brooke was still smiling when I turned back to her. “Tomorrow, then. First thing.”
“First thing,” I agreed.
The officiant asked if anyone objected to these unions. The beach stayed silent except for the waves, the breeze, and the gulls overhead.
“Then by the power vested in me by the Commonwealth of the Bahamas, I now pronounce you husbands and wives. You may kiss your brides.”
Malcolm pulled Scarlett close. Will cupped Brie’s face in his hands like she was made of spun glass. The crowd erupted in cheers.
But I barely heard them. My hand was on Brooke’s belly, feeling the warmth through the fabric of her dress. She covered my hand with hers, our fingers interlacing over where our future grew.
“I love you,” she said, quiet enough that only I could hear. “Both of you.”
Both of us. The family we were making.
“We love you too,” I said.
The celebration would go late. There would be speeches and dancing, and Emmett would definitely make everyone laugh with his best man toast. But right now, in this moment, watching our friends begin their married lives while we sat planning our own, everything was exactly as it should be.
Tomorrow we’d get a license. Find an officiant. Make it legal.
But we were already a family. Had been since I’d gotten out of my own way in Naples and told her how I felt. Maybe since Afghanistan. Maybe since the moment I’d first seen her arranging her equipment in FOB Masum Ghar.
Six years of silence. Six months of healing.
And now, a lifetime ahead of us.