Breach of Trust (17 page)

“Didn't realize we had a date.” He stopped at the foot of the stairs, his black T-shirt making his green eyes brighter than ever. They focused exclusively on her. “Unless you're telling me I have a standing invitation?”

He could have whatever he wanted, but not knowing where things stood, she swallowed the sentiment. He was probably there to say goodbye before he headed off on another mission. Flitting around the world was what he did. And he did it well. She'd never take his passion from him. “Where's the next destination? Or is it classified?”

Something similar to amusement flickered in his expression, and it hit Meghan what was different. The lines around his mouth had almost vanished, as though a tension had released. And looking at her now, something in his expression softened even more. “As it turns out, there was a reward for anyone giving us enough information to stop Phoenix for good.”

“A reward.” Her heart picked up speed. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

“It's a big one.” He stepped one step closer to her. “Big enough to make dreams come true for a whole lot of kids who could use some dreams of their own. And it's yours.”

Meghan's breath caught in her throat. Her hand went to her mouth. “I can still—”

“You can still start the foster home. And, if I'm any good at math at all, you can run it for a long time.”

Tears she hadn't even felt coming broke through and coursed down her cheeks; prayers she hadn't even dared to speak were answered right in front of her. She sniffed. There was still one unspoken prayer. “What about you?”

Tate climbed the final step, and the heat of him telegraphed to her, his hooded gaze drifting to her lips, then to her eyes. “You tell me.” His hands eased to her sides, warm through her thin T-shirt, releasing a shiver to wrap around her spine and drop her stomach like the best kind of carnival ride.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

He slipped his arms around her, pulling her against him, his lips brushing her temple before easing to her ear. “I need a job.”

Meghan could hardly breathe. “What kind?” The question didn't even qualify as a whisper.

He pulled away enough to smile into her eyes. “Something permanent. Like...till-death-do-us-part permanent.” He leaned closer, his lips a whisper from hers. “Know of anything?”

There was no need to respond. Meghan closed the gap, pulling him closer, losing herself in a kiss that promised her the world they'd already seen together. That promised her the future they weren't supposed to have...and the dreams that were finally coming true.

EPILOGUE

M
eghan leaned against a porch post and crossed her arms, watching the progress on the backyard. The paint fumes in the den where she'd been working with some of the wives from the volunteer fire department left her needing a good dose of fresh air. The Saturday after Thanksgiving was chilly; the air cleared her head and reminded her how much she truly had to be thankful for.

Tate had gathered their small circle of friends to help on the holiday weekend as they put the final touches on the house. There was still plenty of legal red tape to push through, but soon they'd have their own foundation for foster children. One they'd run here, together.

The thought of starting “forever” with Tate in this house still thrilled in her stomach. She ran her thumb along the back of the ring he'd presented her on the Fourth of July. The sooner the house was finished, the sooner they could abandon their separate apartments, finally plan a wedding and move in here together.

So much change in the past few months. It still amazed her, all that Tate had brought to her life in these few short months. Changes that included a whole new kind of family.

Aside from the women in the living room, there was a crew from the school painting bedrooms upstairs. The youth from the church Tate and she now attended were busy at the far end of the backyard, stacking stones around a brick-lined fire pit. In the kitchen, Ethan, Ashley, Sean and his fiancée, Jessica, were painting cabinets and walls, having stayed on after a celebratory Thanksgiving dinner a couple of days before.

On the opposite side of the yard, the skeleton of a gazebo stood abandoned, the volunteer firemen away answering a call.

Meghan grinned. For all of Tate's need to settle down, a small part of him still sought to help others—and to chase the occasional adrenaline rush—and he'd found his place in the volunteer fire department that protected their community.

The porch floor creaked behind her. “You've got paint on your forehead.” Tate's voice ran the best kind of cold chills along her arms.

He appeared at her right shoulder and swiped his thumb across her skin, showing her the proof before swiping the paint onto his jeans.

She leaned into his chest, letting him bear her weight, still shocked at how easy it had been to trust him once she'd let God work on the broken places inside. There were still times when she needed reassurance, but the more days that passed, the fewer those moments became. “You're back fast.”

“False alarm.”

“Hmm.” She laid her hands against his chest, firm beneath his sweatshirt, and enjoyed the feel of being near him for a moment. But then she straightened and eyed something near the fire pit, something that was definitely out of place. “Tate? Why's there a six-foot penguin in the yard? Dressed like a firefighter?” All work on the fire pit had stopped as the youth lined up to laugh at and high-five some sort of huge penguin mascot.

Tate laughed, running a hand down her arm, leaving a warm shiver behind. “Funny story about that.”

“Do tell.”

“That's Joe. He's a volunteer in the next town over. I was on my way back from the call when I saw this...this penguin wearing turnout gear standing beside the road next to an old pickup.”

“This sounds like the start of a very bad joke.”

“Yeah, but it's true.” He planted a kiss on the top of her head. “He was at one of the churches doing a program on fire safety and how the kids shouldn't be afraid of firemen in gear, even though they can look scary. His station got the same call we did, so he took off still suited up, but his truck broke down and here we are.”

“He came to entertain the kids? They're a bit old for that.” Still, it was cute watching Joe the Firefighting Penguin pretend to direct the fire pit build while the kids saluted. Laughter drifted across the yard as Joe kept up the game. He kept looking their way though, as if he was more interested in the happenings on the porch than in the yard.

“No.” Tate shook his head, eyes taking on that spark that said he was about to bring on some sort of new surprise. “He's actually here for something else.”

“To teach you not to pick up strangers by the side of the road?”

“I've told you before—you're not half as funny as you think you are.” Tate pulled her to stand in front of him and wrapped his arms around her waist, his green eyes boring into hers. “Joe's a preacher. Young kid, fresh out of seminary.”

“And?” She was having trouble following. When he looked at her like that, it made her want to drag him to the nearest courthouse to get married right then. She'd held out so far, but she wasn't sure either of them could live apart much longer.

“And all of our friends are here.”

Something in his voice tweaked at her heart, amping up the beat to double time. “And?”

“And in the state of Michigan, it only takes one party to go to the courthouse and get a marriage license issued.”

Meghan tried to back away from him, but he held tight. “What are you saying?”
And please let it be what I think it is.

“That since the house is pretty much finished, I had this grand plan to drive you up to Mackinac Island and marry you before Christmas. I took your ID last week and got a license, but...” He let his gaze sweep hers, then the yard around them. “But now I'm thinking you and I have never been close to normal. And you? You never got to do all of those great kiddo things like going to theme parks and meeting all of those cartoon characters the rest of us grew up with. We have our family here and we have Joe the Firefighting Penguin Preacher here and...” When his eyes came back to hers, they were burning with the kind of fire she'd always wanted to dive into. “And I'm very, very sure I don't want to wait another minute.” He dipped his head and brushed a kiss over her lips, whispering against them. “So what do you say, McGuire? Marry me right this minute in this wreck of a backyard in your paint-stained blue jeans?”

Nothing in her whole life had ever sounded so right. Meghan knit her fingers together behind the back of Tate's head and pulled him lower, answering him with a kiss that promised him the craziest wedding in the world...and every crazy day for the rest of her life.

* * * * *

If you enjoyed this exciting story of
military suspense and intrigue,
pick up these other stories from Jodie Bailey

FREEFALL
CROSSFIRE
SMOKESCREEN
COMPROMISED IDENTITY

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COUNTDOWN
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Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed Tate and Meghan's story! These two gave me some serious fits and starts. Tate kept insisting he had no flaws that he knew of. Meghan kept telling me she didn't need anybody's help. For a while, they refused to work together at all. But when the characters finally let me wrangle them, they showed up on the page like no others. They may just be my favorites. I think Meghan just didn't want the world to know about her past.

We all have a past, don't we? I am fond of saying, “If we all got together and talked about the worst things we've ever done, it would probably curl all of our hair.” It's true. We all have that something we're not proud of, and sometimes we let our past stand in the way of our future.

Like Meghan, some of us try to bury history. This is the thing I've learned: the more we try to bury it, the more it controls us. When we bring it into the light, the most amazing thing happens. It's no longer the driving force in our lives and, if we let Him, God will use it to do amazing things. Things we can't even conceive. We just have to be brave enough to hand Him the controls.

The driving verse for Tate and Meghan's story was Isaiah 43:18–19. I love it when God says, “See? I am doing a new thing!” Or in 2 Corinthians 5:17: “The old is gone, the new is here!” It's there again in Revelation 21:5: “I am making everything new!” (Love how there is always an exclamation point, like God's excited about it. He is, you know.) Over and over again, God lets us know He is all about making us new, not who we used to be, but the brilliance of who we could be. That is one of my favorite things about Jesus. And thank God He sees the new and not the old!

I would love to hear from you! You can find me on the web at
www.jodiebailey.com
or email me at
[email protected]
. Maybe you've got a story about how God's “made all things new” with you. Seems to be the story of my life.

Happy reading!

Jodie Bailey

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