• • •
WHEN VAUGHN GOT to the rendezvous spot, a parking lot a few miles away from the warehouse where he’d met Pritchett’s crew, Huxley and the rest of the backup squad were already waiting for him.
Huxley walked over to the Hummer, watching as Vaughn got out.
“So, I think we’ve established that the new guy is going to be a problem,” Vaughn said.
Shaking his head, Huxley stepped closer and held out his hand, his tone serious. “Well done.”
For once, Vaughn didn’t respond with a quip or a joke. “Thanks, Seth.”
The other squad mates gathered around them, and the SOG team pulled up in their SUVs. “Nice job not getting yourself killed out there,” Romero said as he climbed out of the driver’s seat.
The comment, Vaughn knew, was intentionally flippant. After the intensity of the situation, they were all coming down from serious adrenaline highs. A little levity was needed right then.
Everyone hung around for a while, the camaraderie thick as the agents rehashed the event from different points of view. After the group finally dispersed, Vaughn stopped at the office to swap out the Hummer for his own car. He and Huxley parted ways in the parking lot of the FBI building.
“So you’re good?” Huxley asked.
“I’m good.” At this point, Vaughn just wanted to go home so he could unwind and process everything.
“Something like this happens, it kind of gets you thinking, doesn’t it?”
Vaughn smiled slightly. Not the subtlest of points, but that didn’t make it any less valid. “I’ll see you on Monday, Hux.”
• • •
VAUGHN’S DRIVE HOME was short; it was after two A.M., and there was little traffic on the streets. He let himself into his loft and kept most of the lights off, except for one dim lamp on his nightstand.
He sat on the edge of the bed and slowly exhaled. In his head, he relived the events of the evening several times, and each time he kept coming back to the same thing. There’d been a moment, right as everyone was grabbing for their guns and pointing them at him, when he’d thought, This could be it.
And in that moment, he’d thought of Sidney.
It had been just a split-second image, a quick flash of her smiling as she tugged his tie at the restaurant. He’d held back at the time, trying to play it cool, but now all he could think was that he should’ve said . . . something. Something, that is, other than cheers to going out with another guy.
He was a fucking idiot.
He ran his hand through his hair, feeling more restless than ever. He slid off his suit jacket, wanting to get out of his undercover clothes, and then he realized he still had Mark Sullivan’s cell phone in the inside pocket. Remembering that he’d left his own phone on the counter earlier, he walked into the kitchen.
He turned on a light and picked up his phone, noticing that someone had left him a voice mail message.
Sidney.
He immediately hit play.
“Hi, it’s me. I was going to wait to say this tomorrow at the rehearsal, but I just . . . wanted to call. I got the purse from Ginny, and she told me what you did. Vaughn, that is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. I’ve been thinking of you, and . . . I don’t know. I guess I wanted to say thank-you. Oh, and I heard you kicked ass in the triathlon and that you’re now planning to climb a mountain. Why does this not surprise me, Roberts?”
Vaughn smiled, his chest tightening as he listened to her voice.
“Anyway, thanks again for the purse—I can’t wait to show it to Isabelle. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”
The message ended after that. Vaughn set down his phone and stared at it for a long moment.
She should’ve been here with him.
After what undoubtedly qualified as a fucked-up day at work, she was the one person he wanted to see. She was the one person he always wanted to see.
He knew then what he had to do. No more bullshit. No more playing it cool. Maybe he was about to go down in flames, maybe telling Sidney how he felt wouldn’t make any difference.
But there was only one way to find out.
Thirty-three
THE CLOCK WAS ticking. Twenty minutes into the one-hour time slot allotted for Isabelle and Simon’s wedding rehearsal, and they were still missing the groom, best man, and two bridesmaids.
Apparently Fate had decided to have a little fun with the opening festivities of the Sinclair-Roberts wedding.
“What are the odds?” Isabelle asked Sidney in disbelief, as they stood near the first row of pews inside the church. They waited with the other people in the wedding party who had made it on time. “Seriously, what are the odds that an airplane would make an emergency landing on Lake Shore Drive on the evening of my wedding rehearsal?”
Assuming this was a rhetorical question, Sidney kept her head down as she scrolled through the news reports on her phone—in part because she was interested in the story, and in part to hide her smile, which she guessed wouldn’t be particularly appreciated by the stressed-out bride-to-be right then. It was just one of those random, crazy things: a pilot flying a single-engine airplane had been forced to land in the middle of the lakefront expressway after a stabilizing part broke loose from the aircraft. The good news was, miraculously, no one had gotten hurt. The bad news was that everyone who’d been on the Drive at the time was slowly being funneled off onto side streets.
“It says here that the pilot timed his landing while traffic was stopped for a red light. How incredible is that?” Sidney looked up, caught her sister’s glare, and quickly amended that. “Incredible, but also not so convenient in this particular circumstance.”
Isabelle nervously checked her watch. “We only have until six o’clock before the next wedding party gets here.”
Because Fourth Presbyterian was such a popular wedding location, the church often booked up to three ceremonies on Saturdays—as was the case tomorrow. Sidney put her arm around her sister reassuringly. “And that group will have people who are running late, too. I’m sure, given the circumstances, the church will be accommodating.”
“Maybe I’ll ask Corinne to talk to the pastor,” Isabelle said, referring to the wedding planner. “See if she can schmooze him for more time.”
As Isabelle hurried off to find the wedding planner, Sidney walked over to join her father and Jenny, who stood in a group with Kathleen and Adam Roberts.
“Any word from Vaughn and Simon?” Kathleen asked.
“Simon’s last text message to Isabelle said that Vaughn was going to ‘bring the FBI noise’ if traffic didn’t pickup soon.”
Chuckling at that, Kathleen looked around the church. She took in the striking architecture, which was a combination of English and French gothic styles. “I was just telling your father how beautiful your church is.” She nodded at the east window. “That stained glass must be breathtaking on Sunday mornings, with the sunlight.”
Actually, Sidney had no clue what the stained glass looked like on Sundays, since she hadn’t been to church in quite some time—something for which her heathen ass obviously would be perishing for all eternity. “It is a gorgeous church,” she said, dodging the question. “I can’t wait to see it tomorrow, with all the flowers for the ceremony.”
Kathleen nodded. “Yep, the big day is almost here.” She sniffed and suddenly got teary-eyed.
Adam pulled a travel packet of Kleenex out of his pocket and handed it over to his wife. “Figured we’d be needing a few of these.”
Kathleen dabbed at her eyes. “I’m going to be a mess tomorrow.”
Sidney leaned in affectionately. “If it makes you feel any better, Vaughn’s prediction is that I’ll be right there with you and those tears during the ceremony.” She’d meant it as a joke, but as soon as the words came out of her mouth, she regretted them. It made her and V
aughn’s relationship seem so . . . familiar.
A fact that Kathleen, seemingly, did not miss.
There was a sudden gleam of interest in her eyes. “Really? When did you two have this conversation?”
Sidney shrugged, being more careful now. “I think it must’ve been during the tasting at the Lakeshore Club. Isabelle and Simon asked us to tag along.”
“Oh. Of course.” Kathleen’s shoulders fell.
“Speaking of Vaughn,” Sidney’s father interjected, “I heard about the purse from Isabelle.” He held Sidney’s gaze pointedly. “I’m really glad that worked out.”
Uh-oh. Probably not the best time for her father to bring up the subject. Yes, Isabelle had been thrilled and very touched when Sidney had given her their mother’s purse. But having this conversation in front of Vaughn’s parents was likely to invite more questions—questions to which she had no good answers.
“Isabelle told us the whole story,” Jenny said. “It’s amazing that Vaughn was able to track down the purse after all this time.”
“Vaughn hunted down a purse? Sounds like the FBI is a little slow these days,” Adam joked.
“I guess we missed this story. Someone needs to catch us up,” Kathleen said.
“Sidney had wanted to give Isabelle something their mother had worn on our wedding day. Unfortunately, everything that I’d kept in the attic had gotten lost.” Ross held Sidney’s gaze, his tone softening. “That was my fault. Something that special can’t ever be replaced, I know that.”
Sidney stayed silent, surprised by her father’s words and the meaningfulness of his tone. Not sure how to respond, she simply nodded.
After a long pause, Jenny jumped in to cover the silence. “But your son saved the day,” she told Adam and Kathleen. “Vaughn located a friend of Sidney’s mother, and that friend was able to find the purse she had carried on her wedding day.”
Ross smiled at Sidney. “I still don’t understand how Vaughn even knew Ginny Gastel’s name. How would he know that she was your mother’s best friend?”
All four pairs of eyes fell on her.
Sidney kept her tone nonchalant. “I . . . guess I must have mentioned Ginny’s name to him at some point.”
And just like that, Kathleen had that gleam in her eyes again.
Then the doors at the front of the church opened and Simon and Vaughn strode inside. With a grin, Simon led the way up the aisle. “So apparently they’ve opened a new runway in Chicago.”
The group laughed, and Sidney’s eyes met Vaughn’s as he walked up the aisle alongside his brother. She found herself momentarily holding her breath.
Then he looked away when Isabelle walked up to greet him and Simon.
Sidney exhaled and turned back around, when she saw Kathleen studying her.
“Does he know?” Kathleen asked softly.
Sidney opened her mouth to protest—but before she could say a word, Corinne, the wedding planner, clapped her hands.
“All right, people. We’ve got a bride, a groom, and a pastor. Anyone who isn’t here can get the CliffsNotes later. Let’s get this rehearsal started,” Corinne said.
Quickly, the scene turned into a flurry of activity as Corinne hustled everyone into place. Simon and the groomsmen lined up at the altar, while the church’s wedding coordinator played the processional music through a portable iPod speaker system. The two missing bridesmaids ran into the church just in the nick of time, quickly hugged and apologized to Isabelle. Then Corinne cued Amanda, the first bridesmaid in the lineup, to go.
Sidney waited in the wings for Jayne, the bridesmaid ahead of her, to hit her mark. When Jayne made it halfway down the aisle, Sidney began walking. She first saw Simon, who gave her an easy smile, and then her eyes drifted over to Vaughn, who stood next to him.
He stared right at her.
So intense and direct was his gaze, Sidney found herself unable to look away—her eyes stayed locked with his the entire way to the altar. Then she walked up the two steps, and took her place next to the other bridesmaids.
“Well. That was interesting,” Simon said, standing between her and Vaughn.
The church’s wedding coordinator cued the processional music, and Sidney watched as Isabelle came down the aisle on their father’s arm. The pastor ran through an abridged dry run of the ceremony, making sure that the two readers and the soloist all knew their cues, and then Simon and Isabelle started off the recessional.
Sidney and Vaughn were up next. He stepped toward her, and she slid her arm through his. They moved down the steps in tandem and began heading up the aisle.
“I got your message last night,” Vaughn said. “I wanted to call you back, but it was after two o’clock in the morning by the time I heard it.”
“Late night, huh?” Wondering why he’d been occupied until two A.M., she felt her stomach tie in a knot when she realized it was entirely possible that he’d been with another woman. Which he was entitled to do—obviously, she had no claim over him.
“We need to talk,” he said, ignoring her question.
“Okay, talk.”
“Alone,” he said. “Stay back when the rest of the group leaves for the restaurant. I’ll drive you.”
They were almost at the end of the aisle, where Isabelle and Simon were waiting. Sidney hesitated, suddenly not sure what anything meant—the way Vaughn had looked at her while she’d been walking the aisle, her mother’s purse, his mysterious late night out, and now his wanting to “talk.”
“Please, Sidney,” he said, his voice more sincere than she’d ever heard it.
She nodded. “Sure.” Then she smiled as they reached Isabelle and Simon. “Whew. That is one long aisle.”
The rest of the bridesmaids and groomsmen filed in behind them. Because they’d started so late, the next wedding party was already waiting in the vestibule as they finished. Things turned chaotic after that, as the wedding planner wrapped things up and tried to hustle everyone out of the incoming group’s way. Purses and coats were quickly gathered from the church as people coordinated who was driving with whom to the restaurant for the rehearsal dinner.
Sidney watched as Vaughn spoke with Simon, presumably to explain that he would give her a ride to the restaurant. The brothers exchanged a look, and Simon clasped Vaughn’s shoulder before heading off to join the others.
Vaughn returned to Sidney, putting his hand on the small of her back to lead her through the crowd in the direction of a side door. They stepped outside, into an open-air portico with wide stone arches that looked out at a serene garden.
“This way,” he said, cutting through the garden. On the far end of the grounds was a bench hidden almost entirely by green shrubbery.
He gestured to the bench. “Why don’t you sit down?”
Now he was starting to freak her out a little. He was just acting so . . . serious. “All right,” she said cautiously, taking a seat.
Vaughn peered down at her. “Just a heads-up, I’m probably going to fumble my way through this. So bear with me.”
She wasn’t following. “Fumble your way through what?”
He looked at her for another moment, then bent down on one knee.
Sidney’s heart leapt out of her chest. “Oh my God, what are you doing?”
“Um . . . getting eye-to-eye so we can talk,” he said, as if this were evident.
“Oh. Right.”
“And . . . here I’d felt a little awkward before.” Vaughn got up and took a seat on the bench. He ran his hand through his hair, as if debating where to begin. “Yesterday, something happened at work. Things got a little hairy during an undercover meeting.”
Sidney frowned, not liking the sound of that. “How hairy?”
“One of the guys went for his gun, so I pulled out my gun, and then his five friends all pulled their guns on me.”
 
; “Oh. So, by ‘a little hairy,’ you meant that you almost got killed yesterday. Granted, I’m not an FBI agent, so maybe I’m not down with the lingo, but to me that sounds more than a little hairy. Like, I’d probably call that monumentally hairy. Or colossally hairy. And, well . . .” She trailed off, all riled up and feeling relieved and worried at the same time. But more than anything, she wanted to be sure of one thing. “Are you okay?”
He touched her cheek. “I’m okay. You know what helped? When I got home last night and heard your message. Your voice made me smile, just like you always make me smile.” He turned to face her. “We’re good together, Sidney. And I know you feel it, too. These past couple months I’ve been fighting the way I feel because this is definitely not what I had planned, but the truth is . . . I’m in love with you.”
When her eyes widened in surprise, he kept right on going. “I know you’re afraid of getting hurt again. I know you think I’m not the right man for you. You sized me up the moment we met and made up your mind right then. And you’re right, the guy who walked up to you that day in the coffee shop wasn’t looking for a serious relationship. But that guy is gone.” He peered down into her eyes. “He’s been replaced by a man who can’t imagine his life without you.”
She cocked her head, her voice soft. “Vaughn . . . ”
“Use the checklist on me,” he said intently.
When she paused—her head spinning with everything he’d just said—he continued on with the list himself.
“Not hung up on a prior relationship. Check. Settled in my career. Check. Available whenever you want. Check. I have all the qualifications. The only thing I was missing was the number-one rule: I said I didn’t want to be in a serious relationship.” He moved closer, linking his fingers through hers. “And now I know that with you, I want that more than anything. Just give me a chance, Sidney. Let me show you that I can be the man you’re looking for. I promise you won’t regret it.”
Sidney sat there for several moments, her throat feeling tight. He was right—she did know how good they were together. She could so easily picture them laughing over dinner, or breakfast, or while hanging out with friends or spending the holidays up in Wisconsin with Isabelle, Simon, his parents, and a cozy ranch filled with little kids. She could picture the quieter moments, too—when she would be there for him after a tough day at work, or him listening as she talked about some new development in the complex relationship she had with her father.