The Military K-9 Unit Collection. Valerie Hansen
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let out a shout of joy and clasped his arms around her and swung her off her feet into a dizzying circle. When her feet touched the ground she leaned toward him, needing a kiss.
But he held back. His face was serious as he looked at her. “Are you sure?”
Was he still so unsure of her, unsure of her feelings for him?
She laid her hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating in double time. She would spend the rest of her days making sure this man knew her love was true and forever. “Yes, I am sure. I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my days with you and, God willing, there will be many, many days.”
She fought back the specter of Boyd Sullivan and his horrible roses and notes. She wouldn’t allow him and his threats to crowd in on her happiness.
A grin spread across Westley’s face. “Close your eyes,” he said.
“What?”
“Trust me. Close your eyes.”
She closed her eyes. He wrapped an arm around her waist and turned her around. “We’re walking,” he said.
Chuckling, she allowed him to lead her forward. She heard the office door open. Then they were walking on the carpeted hallway toward the entrance of the building.
“How much farther?” she asked.
“Just a bit,” he said. “No peeking.”
“I won’t.” She heard the click of the outside doors opening and then they stepped out into the evening breeze.
“Stairs,” he told her. He led her down the steps in front of the command building and then across the asphalt of the driveway.
Her feet sank in the grass. Overhead the flap of the American flag let her know they were standing beneath the flagpole in front of the command center. She heard a chuckle, but not from Westley.
“Don’t open your eyes until I say so, okay?” Westley asked.
She sighed. “Okay, fine.”
He moved away from her, leaving her standing there alone. But she wasn’t afraid. She knew she was safe. Westley was close by.
“Open your eyes,” he said.
She blinked against the setting sun as her eyes focused. People stood at the edges of the lawn, but it was only the two males directly in front of her that held her attention.
Dakota sat next to a kneeling Westley, a large bow decorated the German shepherd’s neck. Her gaze locked on the small little silver box dangling from the ribbon. Her heart fluttered with delight.
“Surprise,” Westley said.
“Is that...?” She swallowed.
Westley undid the bow, letting the little silver box drop into his open palm.
She edged closer. Her body quivered with excitement.
He opened the box and held it up for her to see a beautiful marquis solitaire ring nestled next to a braided gold band.
“Felicity Monroe, will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She went down on her knees in front of him, her hands closing over his. “Yes. A thousand times, yes.”
He slipped the diamond ring on her finger.
Dakota let out a happy woof. A cheer went up from the spectators. She lifted her gaze to see that so many of their friends had gathered to witness the proposal. She grinned.
Westley touched the braided ring still nestled in the box. “This is for the ceremony and for you to wear whenever you don’t want to wear the diamond. It’s not safe to wear the diamond when you’re working with dogs.”
One of the issues they needed to resolve. She closed the box. “I’m the base photographer.”
“Only until the Red Rose Killer is caught.”
“What happens after that?”
“Once you are no longer in danger, I will give up my post and go into civilian law enforcement.”
She shook head. “Unacceptable. The only way this will work is if you stay at the training center.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but she put a finger to his lips. “Don’t you see? This way I get the best of both worlds. You stay at the training center and I can come visit you and the dogs anytime I want. You do your dream job and I get to be a photographer. A dream I never even realized I wanted.”
His lips split in a broad grin. “I love you.”
“Good. I’ll need to hear that a lot.” She held up her hand, admiring the sparkly ring on her finger. “I will wear this diamond with pride and joy. But more importantly, I will love you for always.”
He cupped her head and kissed her. Another cheer went up. Dakota wedged his way between them, breaking the kiss. The dog licked her face. She and Westley laughed with happiness. And they would be happy. Despite Boyd, despite her uncle and despite any threat to try to come between them.
Westley helped her to her feet. “How soon should we do this?”
“As soon as Pastor Harmon is available,” she said.
Westley waggled his eyebrows. “I was hoping you’d say that. We have him booked for tomorrow afternoon.”
She giggled. “You don’t waste any time.”
“I don’t want to spend another moment without you by my side.”
“By your side is where I want to be. Always.”
* * *
“It’s been a month, people,” Lieutenant General Hall said as he stood at the head of the conference table. Concern and displeasure were etched in his face, causing tension to ripple through the room.
Westley exchanged a quick glance with Felicity. His wife. Joy filled his heart. He took her hand beneath the table. They could face anything together.
They’d married in an intimate ceremony at the Christian church on base with Pastor Harmon officiating. Felicity’s mother had flown in and Ian had walked the bride down the aisle. Lieutenant General Hall had stood up as Westley’s best man, while Felicity’s friend Rae Fallon had been her maid of honor.
Westley and Felicity decided to postpone a formal honeymoon until after all the dogs were safely returned and Boyd Sullivan imprisoned once again. Westley moved his belonging from his studio apartment to Felicity’s house. He’d thought it would feel odd to live in the home she’s shared with her father but it wasn’t at all. In fact, he wanted to believe that Graham Monroe would have approved.
Felicity continued on as the base photographer, and Westley, with Dakota by his side, kept her safe 24/7. He still kept tabs on the training center, though Master Sergeant Caleb Streeter was in command. And he still worked to find the dogs that remained missing. Thirty-two dogs were still unaccounted for, including the prized four German shepherds. Searching for the dogs and protecting Felicity kept him busy. Guarding Felicity around the clock brought him immense joy marred only by the anxiety of the missing dogs.
This morning, Lieutenant General Hall had called this meeting out of well-known frustration. Boyd Sullivan was still at large. And the identity of his accomplice, someone here on base, remained a mystery.
“Special Agent Davison,” Lieutenant General Hall said as he turned to the man on his right. “Please update us on the Red Rose Killer.”
FBI Special Agent Oliver Davison stood to address the room. “We have conflicting reports all over the state of sightings of Boyd Sullivan. Now we’re getting reports of him being as far away as Louisiana.”
A murmur went through the room.
Lieutenant General Hall pinned his gaze on Captain Justin