Undercover Engagement by Samanthe Beck
Epilogue
“How do I look?” Eden eyed herself in the side mirror of Swain’s Bronco and tried to decide if leaving the top three buttons of her black, silk blouse unbuttoned seemed okay for a member of Bluelick PD on a night out at the newly re-opened Rawley’s. Did it say, off duty and relaxed? Or was putting that much cleavage on display a little too Eden Braxton for the occasion? She wanted to get this right.
“You look hot, choux,” he said from the driver’s seat, and sent her a grin as he pulled into the parking lot.
She pushed a lock of hair back and turned to him. “Hot? Uh-oh.” She buttoned the third and second buttons on the blouse, leaving only the top one undone. “I wasn’t aiming for hot. I want to look celebratory, but respectable. I don’t want people to think I’m the Eden they first met in Rawley’s.”
Swain put the truck in park, turned off the ignition and shifted in his seat to look at her head-on. “You look hot,” he reiterated, then reached out and undid the buttons she’d just buttoned, putting her back where she’d started, “and respectable.” A slow smile spread across his lips while he fiddled with her pearl earring. “In fact, you say the word and we’ll skip this shindig, go back to our place, and I’ll show you how hot and respectable you look.”
“No.” But she felt an answering smile tug at her lips. “This is a big night—celebrating Kenny and Dobie completing their twenty-eight days, as well as Rawley’s grand re-opening. We can’t miss it.”
“We can if it’s making you this nervous.”
It was, but then she watched him re-roll the sleeve of his light blue button-down and suspected she wasn’t the only one battling nerves. Was Marc Swain, for all his swagger, a little vulnerable at the prospect of walking into a crowd of locals—even mostly friendly locals—without a cover, or a uniform, or anything except his authentic self? He needn’t be. She spent quality time through the joint op and in the month that had followed with his authentic self, and she knew he didn’t need a con to win people. They’d all warm to him as much as she had. And they’d warm to her too, hopefully. If they didn’t, she’d live. She had a boss she admired, as well as talented and dedicated co-workers who had been nothing but welcoming. And she had Swain—the man she loved. As long as she had him in her corner, as long as she had her place in his corner, everything else would work itself out.
She took a deep breath, took his hands. “I’m not nervous.”
“Really? ‘Cause a second ago I would have sworn you were as nervous as a new kid on her first day at school.”
“Not anymore. You know why?”
“No clue.”
“You’ve got my six. I’ve got yours. And if nobody sits with us in the lunchroom, it’s their loss.”
He flashed the cocky, allegedly panty-dropping smile that had, in their academy days, made her want to punch him…and also drop her panties. “You got that right, choux. Let’s do this thing.”
He took her hand as they walked up the steps and into Rawley’s. Not much had changed. Same scarred wood floors, same neon liquor signs around the bar, same TouchTunes jukebox glowing blue on the back wall and old, coin-operated pool table at the back of the main room. And, like always, a throng of locals congregated, filling barstools, tables and booths. The hum of conversation ebbed as they walked in, and curious eyes swung their way. She threaded her fingers a little tighter with his and sent him a ‘What now?’ glance.
Before he could reply, someone from the main room let out a long, loud whistle. She turned in the direction of the noise to see Junior standing at the head of three tables someone had pushed together, packed with familiar faces. “Swain! Eden! ‘Bout time you got your asses here. Now it’s a party.”
That brought calls of agreement from those around the tables, including Shaun and Ginny, who waved them over. On the way, they stopped to greet Ellie, and meet her handsome contractor husband Tyler, who had provided Swain with the cover job on Junior’s crew. She got a hug from Melody, and shook hands with her handsome husband, Josh, who served as Fire Chief. Fellow Bluelick PD officer West Donovan was there with Roxy, who was all decked out to perform later, looking respectably hot in her own unique and colorful way.
Lou Ann jumped up to hug her when the made it to the far end of the table. “Oh my God. I couldn’t believe when I heard you two were really cops under deep cover. You had us fooled.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t be honest with you,” she said, and included Junior in the reply.
“Hey, no worries. I get it,” Junior said, and clapped Swain on the shoulder with enough friendly vigor she heard him grunt under his breath. “It was like, top secret. You could tell us, but then you’d have to kill us, right buddy?” He winked and gave Swain’s shoulder another hearty clap. “Anyhow, I can’t believe we were part of an undercover deal.”
“A really important part,” Eden assured him. “You and Lou Ann had a hand in bringing down a whole drug ring.”
“Hey, Buchanan, you hear that?” Junior called down the table. “Next time you need an undercover couple, you just deputize Lou Ann and me, and we’ll get the job done.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” her boss replied, before mouthing the word never.
Someone tapped her shoulder. She turned to find Kenny and Dobie standing there, combed and clean-shaven and looking, well, hot and respectable. “Hey, Eden, Swain,” Dobie held out a hand. “Thanks for coming out tonight to celebrate us cleaning up our acts.” Swain ignored the handshake and pulled the slighter man in for a bro hug, then reached over and did the same to Kenny. “You guys clean up well. Who would have guessed?”
“Nobody. Not even us.” Kenny laughed, and accepted Eden’s hug.
“It’s kind of a big deal,” Dobie added, and went into her arms. “I haven’t graduated from anything since high school, but now I’ve got that certificate from the rehab place. I feel so legit.”
“You are legit,” Eden said. “I’m proud of you both.” When she drew back, Dobie grabbed her left hand. “Hey, you’re engaged for real. To who?”
“Fuck you, Dobs,” Swain laughed.
Dobie held up his hands. “I’m kidding. I swear. I heard you two worked things out, and I’m glad. Sincerely. Congratulations.”
Swain took her hand, gazed down at her. “Us, too.”
“Congratulations,” Kenny added, then paused and gave them a slow smile. “Wow. All that bullshit wedding planning you guys did will actually pay off.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Eden demurred and looked at Swain. “We haven’t really planned things yet…”
“The hell we haven’t,” he interrupted, narrowing his eyes as if to dare her to contradict him. “I’ve got my heart set on the Platinum Package from the Riverview Inn, followed by a honeymoon in Jamaica.”
“Right on, man,” Kenny said, and fist-bumped him. “My mom will take care of you. I’ll be your DJ. All you have to do is name a date.”
“I’ll get back to you,” Swain said, and tugged her over toward the dance floor where Roxy was now strumming the early chords of her original song, “Wet and Reckless.” “Let’s consult.”
When he pulled her close, she linked her hands behind his neck and draped her arms over his shoulders. This time, when they danced together, nothing was for show. “So, the Riverview Inn? Really?”
He grinned, shrugged. “If you don’t mind. I think we should do it local.” He glanced around the room and his grin turned to a full-fledged smile. Seems like we have everything we need right here in Bluelick. The venue, the DJ, some friends to raise a toast.”
She looked around as well, then back at him, and a thrill of joy bubbled through her. “I think you’re right.”
“It’s home.”
The thrill evened out to a steady warmth. She pulled him close for a quick embrace, and whispered, “It is home.”
He kissed her. Slow, sweet, and oh, so thoroughly that little shivers raced up and down her spine by the time he raised his head. Damn, the man was good. “Also,” he added, and cocked a brow, “I’m kinda partial to that Honeymoon Suite.”
“You’re not going to steal the towels this time, are you?”
“Nah, choux.” He laughed, and then pressed his forehead to hers. “Trust me.”
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