“Quinn,” he whispered, kissing her on the cheek. “How are you?”

“Doing well.” She smiled, standing back. “Almost back to normal.”

“I’m not sure I know what normal is anymore.”

“It’s a word that has to be redefined from time to time. You? How are you doing?”

“All right. It’s still a day at a time.” He glanced at Thelma, who didn’t pretend she wasn’t listening in, then turned back to Quinn. “I’ve resigned from Justice. I’m taking a job at a law firm in Los Angeles. A fresh start.”

“I hope it’s a good one for you,” Quinn said.

“My wife and daughters-” He broke off, collecting himself before he lost it completely. “They’re coming with me.”

“Gerard, that’s wonderful!”

“I don’t know if it’ll work, but what happened in Yorkville woke me up. I wish I’d had an easier awakening, but at least I’m trying to make some positive changes in my life.”

She took his hand and squeezed it. “Good luck.”

“It was so easy to have a schoolboy crush on you, Quinn. I tried to deny it, even to myself, and I never wanted to pressure you…” He left it at that. “Be happy, okay?”

“I will-I am.”

“Huck McCabe.” Gerard smiled. “You’ll have to keep him. Thelma likes him.”

Quinn laughed, and Thelma scowled at him, and when he left, the Society’s door shutting softly behind him, he felt as if he’d just crossed the threshold from one life to another, and truly did have a chance for a fresh start.

Quinn took a glass of iced tea down to the water’s edge and gazed out at her quiet cove, her first day back in Yorkville since she’d ended up making international headlines.

The reporters were gone, the law enforcement officers were gone, Oliver Crawford and his people were locked up on a variety of charges and, for now, the wildlife of Virginia ’s Northern Neck once again had the run of Breakwater.

Diego Clemente had returned to California. “I’ll never have to wear a Yankees shirt again,” he’d told Quinn. “This is good.”

But Diego had also wanted to give her and his partner space.

“Huck doesn’t want to settle down.” She’d had to fight for the right words.

“He wants to settle down with you. There’s a difference.”

Since the end of his undercover operation in Yorkville, Huck had stayed in Washington, tying up loose ends, helping Nate Winter and his wife get settled into their new home, arguing with Juliet Longstreet-and listening to Diego and Ethan Brooker swap stories about their days together in the Special Forces. Quinn had joined him as much as she could, given his responsibilities and hers. Every minute she was with Huck, she found herself liking him more and more, enjoying his company, unable to imagine having him back in California and her in Washington.

But except for the occasional kiss, their encounters over the past two weeks were very chaste, and Quinn was going nuts.

She was, she mused, incredibly attracted to him.

“I pissed him off in Yorkville,” she’d told Diego.

He’d grinned. “There’s that.”

“Hey, Quinn.”

She spun around, spilling her tea, discovering Huck so close to her that some of the ice landed on his feet. “Do they teach you how to sneak up on people in fugitive-catching class?”

“Yeah, actually, they do.”

“I didn’t hear you. The wind, the tide coming in-” She looked around her. “It’s such a beautiful spot.”

“It is.”

“Huck-”

He seemed to know what she was going to say. “It’s okay. It can wait-”

“It can’t wait. It’s waited too long. I did what I did, took the risks I took that day because I had to. I’d failed Alicia. I didn’t want to fail anyone else.”

He smiled. “I should have locked you in the trunk from the start.”

“Your Rover doesn’t have a trunk. Neither does Diego’s truck. You guys are just a lot of hot air.”

“It was a figure of speech.” He took the tea glass out of her hand and set it in the sand, returning to her, his eyes squinted against the wind and sun. “We took a risk in leaving you alone.”

“I’m not an easy person, Huck. I never have been.”

“That’s why you’re an expert in transnational crime at thirty-two. You push hard.” He caught a few strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail and tucked them behind her ear. “You’re also more of an adrenaline junkie than you want to admit.”

“Kayak into the wind. That’s my idea of an adrenaline rush. But you-”

“No more undercover work for me. That part of my life is over. I’m not doing it again.”

“How much of the man I fell for in those weeks was Huck Boone, bodyguard, and how much was Huck McCabe, undercover federal agent?”

“I never lied to you.” He thought a moment and shrugged. “Well, almost never.”

“Are you going back to California?” she asked.

“After meeting your grandfather, I don’t see you in California.”

“You met my grandfather? When?”

He ignored her. “I want to be where you are, Quinn. I’ve got options. Nate Winter wants me in Washington. Hell, Thelma’s working on a grant for me from the Society for Plants and Animals.”

“The American Society for the Study of-”

“Right. She thinks I’m a born adventurer.”

“You’ll do what the USMS asks you to do,” Quinn said. “Another task force, another assignment. You love your work.”

“You? Have you done your workshop at Quantico? All those FBI guys.”

“All very buff, I might add. They listened to my every word.”

“That’s because they knew I’d kick their butts if they didn’t. And because you’re good at what you do and everyone knows it. You’re not a phony.”

“I just work hard, and I have an insatiable curiosity.”

“See? We’re two peas in a pod. If you hadn’t managed the situation, Lubec would have killed Steve Eisenhardt. Now, he’s talking. You’re independent, Quinn. You’re courageous. You make things happen.”

“But I’m not patient. You’re patient.”

“Only when I have to be. Right now, Quinn, I can’t last another second without making love to you.”

She smiled. “Oh, good.”

By the time they reached her front porch, Huck scooped her up and carried her inside to the bedroom, clean and tidy, everything back in order after Steve’s panicked search for the missing pills. Citalopram. That was what Alicia had taken, thanks to Steve, who was pressured by Travis Lubec, who’d believed he was acting on orders from Oliver Crawford through Sharon Riccardi. Only it was Sharon, not Crawford, who’d wanted Alicia dead.

It was all a mess, one still getting sorted out by local, state and federal authorities.

Huck laid her on the bed, easing on top of her. “Quinn?” He smoothed back her hair and touched the tears at the corners of her eyes. “I can tell you’re thinking.”

She smiled. “I’m always thinking.”

“Stop.”

He kissed her softly, briefly, then kept his mouth close to hers. She stared into his eyes, noticing how dark they were, how intent they were on her. He had such focus and control, and yet he was, she thought, one of the kindest men she’d ever known.

“Quinn?” He gave her a mock frown. “You’re thinking, aren’t you?”

This time she laughed. The afternoon sun filled the small room, the curtains fluttering in a warm breeze. She wrapped her arms around him and felt the weight of him on her, the hard muscles of his legs, his arms, his back. A wild mix of sensations made her head spin.

“Okay,” she whispered, pressing him onto her, feeling his urgency. “No more thinking.”

This time, their kiss was neither soft nor brief, deepening quickly, his hands sliding up her bare legs and over her hips to the waistband of her shorts. Quinn didn’t try to stop or control her reaction, or hide it from him. She helped him slide down her shorts, dispatch with them, and then her shirt and bra. He rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him, and, placing his strong hands just under her breasts, he held her up from him and gazed at her.