Page 101 of Ground Zero
“You deserve a lot of thanks as well,” Maverick said. “I appreciate you sounding the alarm at the base. If those explosives had detonated . . .”
“It would have been ugly,” Trey finished. “I’m glad it all worked out.”
“Me too.”
They chatted a few more minutes before Trey left them alone.
Sheridan touched Maverick’s arm as she peered up at him. “You doing okay?”
“Getting there.” He studied her face. “What about you? The two of us haven’t really had time to talk. What about your career with the FBI? Is it?—”
“It’s intact. Cook’s actually recommending me for a promotion.” She smiled. “But I’m thinking about taking some time off first. Maybe not a lot of time. But a few days at least.”
“Oh, yeah? Some time off sounds really good right now. You have any plans?”
She grinned. “Actually, I do. I’m thinking about unwinding on a secluded little island off the coast of North Carolina.”
Maverick raised his eyebrows as a smile tugged at his lips. “That sounds like the perfect place to unwind.”
“From what I hear, I may be able to be down there as early as Saturday.”
“That’s only in a couple of days.” He tilted his head.
“I was hoping you might meet me at the beach Saturday morning. At the same spot where we first met.”
His eyes crinkled at the edges. “Where you tackled me?”
“Where I arrested a suspected terrorist who turned out to be a hero,” she corrected.
Maverick’s grin widened. “I’ll be there. Eight hundred pounds of explosives couldn’t hold me back.”
CHAPTER 55
The morning sun painted the Lantern Beach sand gold as Sheridan waited at the spot where everything had started. She’d placed her surprise on the sand underneath a couple of beach towels behind her. Her heart raced with anticipation.
She saw him before he saw her—walking down the beach in board shorts and a T-shirt, looking more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. The bruises were fading, the exhaustion gone from his eyes.
When he spotted her, his face lit up with a smile that made her stomach flutter.
He paused in front of her. “Morning, Agent Mendez.”
“Just Sheridan now,” she said. “I’m officially on vacation.”
“It suits you.” He stopped a few feet away, and his eyes caught on what she was hiding. “What’s behind you?”
“A surprise.” She turned and jerked the towels away, revealing a surfboard.
She watched his expression transform from curiosity to shock to something that looked like joy mixed with tears.
“How did you . . . ? My father’s board. I thought it was gone.”
“Jimmy James helped me track it down. Some kids found it washed up two miles south. They’d been keeping it, but whenthey heard what happened, what you did . . .” She shrugged. “They wanted you to have it back.”
Maverick ran his hands over the worn surface, tracing the dings and repairs that told the story of years of use. “This was the last thing my father and I did together. Surfed these waves the weekend before he died.”
“I know,” she said softly.
He set the board carefully in the sand and pulled her into his arms. “Thank you. This means . . . everything.”
