Epilogue #2
His gaze sharpened at the mention of the east service gate, and Katherine’s smile softened. “Vivi said you’ve replaced everything twice.”
Her eyes were brighter than they’d been when she left. Her wrist was no longer braced. She looked whole.
He touched her cheek with the backs of his knuckles, almost afraid the contact would prove she wasn’t real. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She covered his hand with hers. “Actually okay. Not Katherine-functioning-while-everything-burns okay.”
Priss meowed, jumped down, and circled his legs. Katherine glanced at her. “She would like you to know she has not been properly greeted.”
Jasper released his hold on Katherine and scratched under the cat’s chin. “Hello, terrorist.”
Priss blinked slowly.
“I missed you too.”
Katherine looked back at him and turned serious. “She wasn’t the only one who missed you.”
His heart kicked once, hard. He cupped her cheek and smiled. “I’m glad.”
“I left the CIA.”
For a second, he couldn’t make the words connect. “What?”
“I resigned.” She smiled faintly, though her eyes were bright. “Officially, I’m on leave until the paperwork processes. Agent Porter called it a catastrophic loss for the Agency and then congratulated me in the hallway where no one could hear her.”
“You left?”
“Yes.”
“For good?”
“For good.”
His hand slid from her cheek to her shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I needed to make the decision when I wasn’t looking at you.” Her voice stayed steady, but he could hear the emotion beneath it. “I needed to know I was choosing this because it was right for me, not because I missed you so much I could barely breathe.”
He closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, she was still there.
“I did miss you,” she said. “In case that part needed clarification.”
“It did.”
“I missed you terribly.”
“Good, because I’ve been miserable without you.”
Her smile warmed. “I have more.”
“Proceed. I’m all ears.”
“I took a position with the University of Montana.”
His brain stalled again. “In Missoula?”
She nodded. “They need someone to head archival processing for a major research collection. It’s not federal intelligence—no covert killers hidden in the footnotes.” She huffed a laugh. “At least, none advertised in the job description.”
He stared at her. “That’s what you want?”
Her face brightened even more. “I start in a week, and yes, I can’t wait.
Research universities have amazing archives and records.
I’ll have to travel back to Virginia if Porter needs follow-up testimony, and the investigation isn’t completely over, but my part in exposing the Cinder operation is mostly done. ”
“You’re moving to Montana.”
“I’m moving to Montana.”
“Near here.”
“Close enough that Priss may continue her chicken-based relationship with you.”
He smiled. “You should have led with that.”
She laughed, and the sound went through him like sunlight after a long winter. Then she reached for her leather bag sitting beside the couch. “I also brought something.”
“If it’s another classified document, I’m going to need a minute.”
“It’s not classified.” She pulled out a folded sheet of paper and handed it to him. “I’ve taken the liberty of creating a new contract for us.”
He looked at the page, then at her. “Another NDA?”
“No.”
“For what?”
“Ongoing operational oversight.”
His eyebrows rose. “That sounds serious.”
“It is. This new partnership gives you full veto power on future decisions involving bullets, federal conspiracies, unauthorized meetings at service gates, and any situation in which I’m tempted to interpret ‘stay put’ as a flexible suggestion.”
A laugh broke out of him before he could stop it. The sound felt rusty but good. “You didn’t accept my veto when you left.”
She held up one finger. “Actually, I did. That’s why I’m here. I needed time to sort through what I felt for you. I had to be sure it was more than appreciation for you saving my life. I’ll never stop being grateful, but what I feel for you goes way beyond that.”
His chest loosened. “It does?”
She pulled a pen from her bag. “Yes, and that’s why I need a formal agreement.”
He glanced at the paper again. “I thought you said this was a contract.”
“It is.”
“This section says, ‘Party A agrees to provide strategic concern, emergency backup, emotional accountability, and coffee as needed.’”
“That’s you.”
“Party B agrees to disclose threats before walking into them.”
“That’s me.”
“Party B also agrees that cats are not to be used as tactical intermediaries without mutual consent.”
Her smile grew. “Priss insisted on that clause.”
Jasper shook his head, but his vision had gone annoyingly blurry. “There’s a lot of fine print.”
“I’m an archivist. Read carefully.”
He took the pen from her hand and signed at the bottom without looking at another line.
Katherine’s mouth fell open. “You didn’t read it.”
“I trust you.”
Her expression changed so quickly it almost broke him. Surprise first. Then tenderness. Then the kind of emotion she usually tried to hide before anyone could see it.
“There,” he said, handing the paper back. “File that carefully in your archive, Ms. Townsend.”
She looked down at his signature, then back up at him. “You just agreed to provide me with your premium package for the rest of my life.”
He stepped closer and slid one hand around her waist. “I told you that you already had lifetime coverage.”
“I needed it in writing.”
“Of course you did.”
Her fingers curled around the front of his shirt. “Is that a problem?”
“No.” He bent his head until his mouth hovered over hers. “I like knowing exactly what I’ve signed up for.”
“And?”
He kissed her, slow and deep, taking his time because there was no gate closing between them now, no convoy waiting, no federal agent at the door telling her it was time.
She’d chosen this. Chosen him. Not because fear had driven either of them across the country, but because certainty had finally caught up with love.
When he lifted his head, her eyes were damp again. “I love you,” she said.
The words went through him with more force than any bullet.
He cupped her face. “I love you too.”
Priss leaped onto the table to inspect the forgotten sandwich and sniffed it.
Katherine glanced over Jasper’s shoulder. “Your cat is about to commit theft.”
“My cat?”
She poked a finger into his chest. “Shared custody. It’s in the fine print you didn’t read.”
He chuckled. “She’s still on your side.”
“She’s on the side of poultry.”
Jasper reached for the plate and moved it out of Priss’s reach. The cat gave him a look of profound betrayal.
He laughed, and this time the sound came easily.
Katherine picked up the ping-pong paddle and held it out to him. “Now, about that rematch.”
He took the paddle. “You know I’m going to win.”
“Still delusional, I see.”
“I signed the contract. I’m entitled to be optimistic.”
She tossed the ball once and caught it, smiling at him across the table with mischief, warmth, and a future in her eyes.
For months, Jasper had watched every gate, every camera, every road leading away from Shadow Point, wondering if he was chasing Katherine out of fear or going to her because he was sure.
In the end, she’d come to him.
Not as a client. Not as a protected witness. Not as a woman running from danger.
As Katherine.
His partner.
His match.
His home.
She served the ball.
Jasper returned it, laughing when Priss jumped onto the couch to supervise with imperial disapproval.
Outside, the front gate stood quiet beneath the Montana sky. Inside, the compound no longer felt hollow. Katherine was across the table from him, alive and safe and smiling like she planned to spend the rest of her life beating him at his own game.
Jasper intended to let her try.
After all, she had lifetime coverage.
I hope you enjoyed Jasper and Katherine’s story! It was fascinating researching CIA archivists and their jobs. And of course, Priss turned into one of my favorite characters.
Keep the romance and action going by grabbing the next book in the series, Shadow Justice, featuring Navy JAG Reid Flemming and coffee shop owner Holly Bristol. The man who broke her heart is the only one who can protect her from a serial killer’s twisted justice. Get your copy here: Shadow Justice