Epilogue

EPILOGUE

SIX MONTHS LATER

HILL COUNTRY, TEXAS

Delaney climbed into Garrett's burnt-orange Jeep and shut the door. "Thanks for picking me up. Made it easier." She glanced back to say hi to Zim, only he wasn't there. Nobody was. So . . . he'd just picked her up? But he'd said this was a team event at the quarterly Navy SEAL Foundation fundraiser at Fox's Barbecue.

Only her.

She shifted in the passenger seat as they made their way to the restaurant. "So, is Zim meeting us there?"

"Can't," Garrett said, adjusting his ball cap as they sat at a red light. "He was deployed. Africa, I think."

"Oh." She watched as he pulled onto the county road leading to the ranch. "Caldwell?"

"He's in DC, busy with some spook business or another."

So how was this the "team event" he'd told her about last week when they'd met for one of their near-weekly meetups since returning from Indonesia? She'd enjoyed their alone time. Long talks. Real talks.

But that had been coffee, and this wasn't that. It felt . . . different.

"Team" with just Garrett?

She riffled through her brain, trying to find something to talk about. She could ask how his contracting was going now. Or how his new golden retriever pup was doing with the training advice she'd given him over coffee.

She looked over at him. The way he drove with one hand, the way his muscular arms just perfectly stretched his solid black T-shirt. . .

Delaney gulped. She thought about his arms way too much. She ripped her eyes away.

Um, God? What's happening?

They passed one of the signs announcing the fundraiser and she read it aloud. "Our quarterly SEAL Foundation fundraiser in December features the Choca Cantika Barbecue Sauce! Their coffee too! Today from four to closing." She smiled, satisfied their work had made that possible. "It's awesome they can still offer Choca Cantika."

"Right?" he agreed with a nod. "Between the US Army and the Indonesian police at the train explosion, Sachaai is gone," Garrett said. Then he hmph 'd. "But really, coffee with barbecue? I mean, Choca Cantika is great, but it's Dr. Pepper with barbecue, dude."

Coffee. There was a decent topic. "You sure you want to try the Choca Cantika Barbecue Sauce? I heard about a poisoning or something?"

The corner of his mouth lifted. "More flavor. Are you sure?"

"Well, I do know the guy who saved the Cantika Coffee Farm. . ."

His grin spread wide.

"Supposedly. So maybe I better not." Delaney laughed, and he took the turn into the barbecue place.

Someone pulled out of the parking spot right next to the entry to Fox's Barbecue. He pulled into it and turned off the Jeep. She reached for her purse and would've opened the door for herself, except Garrett appeared there, helping her out.

She hopped out and found herself right next to him. Liked the way she seemed to fit beside him. Felt her insides go giddy at his proximity. And the warm pressure of his hand on the small of her back.

Country music spilled from Fox's, and she just naturally danced her arms a little as they walked up to the restaurant. The smoker stood beside the door, smoke furling gently into the air. She screeched to a stop as the aroma of the meat smoking over mesquite made her mouth water. "How have I never eaten here?"

"No idea. There is some of that food to eat, inside." He grabbed the pocket of her burgundy jacket and gently tugged toward the door.

She laughed, and they walked in and joined the line. Brisket, ribs, pulled pork, chicken quarters. She read the menu but couldn't decide. She threw her hands in the air. "Just order for me."

"So you actually trust me, huh?"

She laughed. "So much I'll let myself be hoisted off a bullet train at full speed."

He groaned and shook his head, moving along in line. "Don't remind me."

A woman in a Fox's Barbecue apron approached, bearing a tray with mini plastic cups. "This is the famous Choca Cantika Barbecue Sauce that we're featuring today. Would you like to try it?" She leaned toward them, talking in a fake whisper. "Don't tell Mrs. Fox. I tried one. This sauce is so good. You're going to like it."

She and Garrett wouldn't have laughed if they hadn't made eye contact.

"I do," Garrett said, and grabbed a mini cup.

The lady hesitantly held the tray toward her.

Delaney bit her lip to stop the laugh and smiled as she took one. "Of course. Thanks." She tipped the barbecue sauce into her mouth. Her knees dipped. "Oh! Oh! That is so good," she groaned in pleasure. "I knew it would be good, but not this good. It's so . . . sweet and deep."

"Told you so," the lady said holding out a trash bag.

Delaney and Garrett tossed their mini cups into the bag.

They reached the front, where the cashier greeted them. "Hey, Mr. Walker. I suppose you want the usual pulled pork sandwich basket?"

"Two please, Charley. With fries and . . ." He narrowed his eyes in thought. "Dr. Pepper."

Delaney dug in her purse for her wallet, but Garrett was already paying for it. Like he'd paid for all their coffee.

He leaned up against the counter as they waited for their order. "How was Surge's last scent work contract with the Houston Police Department?"

"He found a very big drug stash."

The employee brought the two baskets on a tray, which Garrett retrieved and headed to the condiment trough. There he piled pickles and onions on his sandwich.

Delaney frowned. "Why do you cover up the awesome smoky meat with all that stuff?"

With a wink, he grinned. "Pickles and onions make the sandwich." He handed her one of the bowls of banana pudding. "And this makes the meal."

She stared at the banana pudding. "Deal." When they finally found the only empty, clean table, she sat down and snatched the Choca Cantika sauce from the sauce basket on the table and pointed it at him. "This. Sauce is what makes the sandwich."

He pulled out the sriracha smoke sauce and squeezed it onto his pulled pork.

"Let me guess. You always eat the same thing here."

"When it's good, it's good." He took a bite. Practically half the sandwich.

"Walker." Heath approached, his own basket laden with items from the trough and Crew trailing him with his own pile of barbecue. "Delaney. Mind if we join y'all?"

What was ABA doing here?

Crew took the seat next to Garrett. "Hey, Delaney. Garrett." He indicated the Choca Cantika she was holding. "Done with that?"

"Sure," she said with a laugh.

He took it and squeezed some onto his brisket. "Been wanting to try this."

Heath chewed, then took a gulp of water. Jutted his jaw at Garrett. "You ready to start tactical training with our handlers?"

Delaney almost spat out her Dr. Pepper.

Garrett nodded at Heath. "I'm good to go. When do you want me?"

"Monday too soon?"

"Negative."

"Ten-hundred every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, right?"

"That works."

"You—" Delaney's voice hitched, and she cleared her throat as she gaped at Garrett. "You're going to teach tactical training? At the ranch?"

"I am," he said with a slow smile. "Ghost and I talked about it and came to an agreement."

"How will that work out with you doing contract work?"

"I . . . I was going to talk to you about that. I'm done."

"Oh." She couldn't believe it—that meant he'd be here, around . . . a lot. That was good. Wonderful, even. Their relationship . . . Nerves thrummed, so she took a bite of her sandwich. Set her hand on the table, thinking through what he was saying, that he would stay . . . Did he feel what she felt?

He and Heath chatted about the different techniques and the possibility of finding a location for Garrett to train locals in self-defense for added income.

Delaney felt the whisper of a touch against her pinky and glanced down. Garrett's hand rested there, and he was apparently oblivious. So she slid her pinky closer, hooked his.

His gaze flicked there, then back to Heath with a laugh about something. She'd lost track, too focused on them. Could they have a future?

"Thompson," Crew said as he swallowed some food. "We've procured more dogs and want you to put them through scent training."

"Oh, wonderful. Nice to have some job security." At least she still had a career at the ranch, and apparently Garrett did too, so he'd be around for a while. "I hope to get in on Garrett's class too. That okay?"

"That's what it'll be there for," Heath said. "Classes are free for staff."

They ate in silence for a few more minutes, then Garrett stood. "We'll check y'all later. Ready, Rogue?"

Startled at his rapid change of topic, she faltered. "Uh, yeah. Sure." What was up with Garrett? She scooted out and stood, hung her purse on her shoulder. "See you guys later."

Crew and Ghost gave their farewells but kept eating.

On the way to the exit, Garrett dropped a large bill in the mason jar set out for donations. He stood by the passenger door at the Jeep, but instead of opening it, he leaned up against it. Definitely a bear face. But she trusted this Bear.

"That was a quick exit. You okay?"

"Yeah," he said with a huff. "I like Heath and Crew. Good guys." He sighed and opened the door for her. "Just wasn't expecting them today."

"You said today was a team event . . ."

He frowned and scruffed the back of his head. "Yeah, thought it was a good idea, since we saved Cantika and Fox was offering that Choca Cantika Barbecue Sauce. But when Zim and Caldwell had to cancel . . ." He gave her a sheepish look.

"You didn't want to cancel." She cocked her head at him. "You could've just asked if we could make this a date. We've been on a few. Remember, before your last op . . ."

"Right." He took her hands into his. "I've been praying, and, well, after all we went through together in Southeast Asia . . ."

She considered him.

"I want something more than a coffee date. I want a future with you."

Heart racing, she smiled. "Me too."

"Sorry I didn't talk to you about the self-defense thing. I . . . I want our lives to align. And while I was on that South America contract, I was praying about what was next for me, for us."

Oh, that made her heart swoon.

"Then last week, when Heath and I were talking, the self-defense training thing happened, and I realized it made a way for me to stay, to provide . . . and I got to thinking about us."

"Go on," she said, hooking her arm around his neck. "I'm liking this natural progression."

"I know with your dad here, you want to stay."

She smiled. "He really likes you, especially since you helped me get that leg for him."

"Seems I'm winning on all counts." Garrett stepped forward, pulled her into a bear hug, a hug she didn't want to ever step away from.

She laced her hands behind his neck. "So it would appear."

He eased back a fraction and looked into her eyes, then lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss was warm and gentle. Strong.

She loved his kiss. Wanted more.

"Put a ring on her finger, Walker!" came a barked laugh.

Garrett glanced over his shoulder as Crew and Heath laughed all the way to a big black dualie. He shook his head, but then looked at her, something deep in his brown eyes. "What do you think?"

Confusion skidded through her. "About?"

"Me, marriage."

She drew in a quick breath. "I . . ." Holy wow, was this really happening? "I think it's a sound tactical plan."

As they pulled out of the parking lot, his pinkie lapped over hers.

* * *

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