He would. He would strive every second of his life to love Bailey as Christ loved the church.

But I can only do it through your strength, Father. Equip me to love her as you created me to. May our lives and our marriage glorify you always.

The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur, so much emotion welling inside him, in the words of love he spoke, in the words of love she spoke to him. Her hands were trembling as he slid the ring on her finger, but the joy in her eyes said it was all out of love. She placed the band on his finger and Pastor Braden said, "You may now kiss your bride."

My bride. The greatest joy he'd ever known, next to accepting Christ as his Savior, swept over him as he pulled Bailey into his arms and kissed his wife for the very first time.

"Mrs. McKenna," he whispered against her petal-soft lips.

She smiled, making his insides Jell-O. "I like the sound of that."

He grinned. "How about this?" He moved his mouth to her ear and whispered words of love only a wife should ever hear, and joy filled him as her smile widened, brushing her cheek close to his. A giggle escaped her lips.

Round tables with white linen tablecloths dotted the grounds, candles glowing in gla.s.s pillars at the center of each. Well over a hundred guests were in attendance, everyone smiling and enjoying the festivities.

Jake watched from the periphery as usual. The McKennas' property had been transformed once again-this time into an oasis beneath the stars.

Growing up with his well-to-do parents, he'd been to his fair share of elegant dinners and dances, but all that paled in comparison to the beauty before him and the rhythmic sound of waves tossing behind him.

Cole had doted on Bailey throughout dinner, and his bride shined. Memories of his wedding day flooded Jake's mind, and he wished he'd been more mature, more loving, more enraptured. He and Becca, while they loved each other, had been so young, and having recently become the youngest homicide detective in Boston history, he'd been far too c.o.c.ky. He hadn't known the first thing about being a good husband, but he'd tried his best, until the co-ed case fell in his lap and he'd become obsessed. He'd let Becca take a backseat to his career, and in the end she'd died because of it-because of him. How he regretted his arrogance, regretted a great many things.

And now he regretted not admitting to Kayden how he truly felt about her-about the depth of love coursing through every fiber of his being for her. The arrogance had been knocked out of him long ago. He was far more mature now, and when it came to Kayden . . . enraptured didn't even come close. But because he loved her so much, he remained silent. She wasn't interested in him like that. Despite the gentle looks he caught now and again, she never indicated anything more. It was better than her previous animosity and distrust, but it wasn't love.

"The bride and groom will share their first dance as man and wife," the bandleader announced.

Cole and Bailey stepped onto the dance floor they'd set up on the sand-taking great pains to level it out perfectly and place it high enough on the beach that the shifting tide wouldn't touch it. Old-fashioned gla.s.s bulbs fanned out in strings over the dance floor, and white Chinese lanterns dotted the perimeter. "Greatest Story Ever Told," by Oliver James, played as the two danced.

Jake's gaze shifted to Kayden, watching from across the dance floor, the light of the lanterns shimmering off her golden skin and radiant complexion. The turquoise bridesmaid dress suited her perfectly, her long brown hair nearly covering the open back.

The song concluded, but Cole and Bailey remained wrapped in each other's arms.

"The bride and groom request the bridal party join them on the dance floor."

Kayden's gaze locked on his.

He smiled to squelch his nerves, but they only jangled harder. This was it. His excuse to dance with Kayden. Surely she wouldn't refuse. She kept her focus on him as he made his way around the dance floor to her side. Piper and Landon were already dancing, and Gage was taking Carrie Matthews' hand.

Kayden's hand. He'd finally be able to hold her hand, to touch her skin, to feel her near him-if only for the length of the song. And it was a great one. "You and Me," by Lifehouse.

His heart hammered in his throat as he stepped toward her, closing the distance between them.

She looked . . . nervous. Was she that uncomfortable about dancing with him?

"Hi," he said, reaching her side. Hi? Wow. He was the master of vocabulary tonight.

She brushed her hair behind her shoulder. "Hi."

"May I have this dance?" He held out his hand, praying he wasn't shaking as badly as he felt he was.

Without a word, she placed her hand in his-lithe fingers, velvety skin. She felt more delicate than he'd imagined. Not what he'd expected from a climber's hands.

He led her onto the dance floor, wishing he could lead her all the days of his life, but he'd settle for this perfect moment in time.

He cradled his hand along the supple curve of her back, just below the tip of her lush hair, the silky strands tickling the top edge of his fingers.

He placed her free hand on his shoulder, and they began to move in step with the melody, in step with each other.

The lights overhead reminded him of fireflies in the night during his summers spent with his grandparents down along the western sh.o.r.e of Maryland. His parents had shipped him out to his mom's parents while they took cruises, visited spas, and toured Europe.

Many children would have been hurt by being left behind, but he'd loved every minute of it. His grandpa had taught him how to fish, to track, and to camp. His grandmother had taught him about comfort, laughter, and joy-all of which were sorely missing from his proper parents' lives. Best of all, his grandmother had taught him to dance.

It started one night after he was supposed to be in bed. He heard music-the throaty crooning of Patsy Cline-and had snuck down to catch his grandparents dancing on the front porch beneath the full summer moon.

Grandma's favorite song had been "Fly Me to the Moon," because Grandpa had always spun her-just as Jake was spinning Kayden now, her long lush hair flowing. The soft hint of a smile on her lips warmed him, and his head spun faster than his body. How did she do that? Utterly captivate him . . .

She was breathtaking, and he prayed this moment would never end.

She lifted a gla.s.s off a pa.s.sing tray. Quite a party the McKenna clan threw. She'd been hearing as much. Shame they didn't serve alcohol. She could use a stiff drink, but no matter. She took a sip of the wretched ice tea and moved closer to the dance floor, closer to them-the source of her problem. But not for long.

"Don't they make a handsome couple?" a man said beside her.

"Yes." She took another sip as Jake twirled Kayden around. Too bad they wouldn't live long enough to pursue a relationship. Such a pity.

17.

The next morning, the whole family and a few friends gathered on the dock to see Cole and Bailey off for their honeymoon. Kayden would fly them to Anchorage before heading over to Imnek with Jake to continue their investigation.

Piper had decorated the inside of the plane with balloons and streamers as a fun send-off, but Kayden would be taking them down as soon as she dropped Cole and Bailey off at Anchorage International. She wasn't flying around all day with pink and purple fluff.

"I know you two will have an amazing time," Piper said, hugging Bailey. "I can't believe you're going to Australia. Take lots of pictures of koalas for me." If anything came in second to Piper's love of moose, it was koalas.

"I will," Bailey promised.

"Okay, Piper, let them go," Kayden said. "They'll only be gone two weeks."

Piper made her annoyed face. "I know. I'm just so excited for them."

And she was going to miss them. Kayden could read it on her sister's face. It was sweet how much she loved them all and enjoyed being with them, but it was only for a couple of weeks.

She turned to Cole. "We better get going if we're going to make your flight."

He nodded and scooped Bailey up in his arms. "Time to go, Mrs. McKenna."

Bailey laughed. "I think you can stop carrying me over thresholds now."

"Nope. You get the special treatment for at least another day, maybe another week." He pressed a long kiss to her lips.

"Okay, lovebirds." Kayden tried scooting them along while keeping her gaze off Jake. What was wrong with her? Every time she saw one of her siblings express affection with their partner, her mind went directly to Jake-wondering what his lips would feel like, longing to be back in his strong arms, to feel his hand splayed on her lower back while they danced.

Stop it! You will not swoon over Jake. Over anyone, for that matter.

But that was just it. She'd had boyfriends growing up, but she'd never swooned over anyone. Not until now. Not until Jake.

Kayden lifted off from Anchorage International Airport. They'd seen Cole and Bailey off to their connecting flight for Sydney, and after refueling and grabbing a bite of breakfast, she and Jake were on their way to Imnek. An entire day of just her and Jake together, with all the raw emotions of last night's dance still welling inside. Great.

"Some wedding," she said, feeling the need to fill the silence.

"Yeah." He smiled. "I especially liked the dancing."

Her mouth went dry, and she blindly scanned the instruments, even though the plane practically flew itself, struggling to think of something lighthearted to say. "Yeah. Gage puts on quite the show. I particularly enjoyed his 'Thriller' rendition."

Jake laughed. "That was hysterical."

Gage always was the life of the party. "And did you notice how he raced to Darcy's side after his obligatory dance with the matron of honor was over?" It was so sweet.

"Obligatory?"

"Yeah, you know, the obligatory wedding dance."

"Right. Obligatory." He shifted back in his seat. "I got it."

What was he . . . ? Oh. Real smooth, Kayden. She'd just made it sound as if she'd only danced with him out of obligation. In a way it was true. She never would have gone up and asked Jake to dance on her own, but what she'd felt during the dance was far from obligation. Her heart was still racing. When he'd cradled her back in the palm of his hand . . .

Gooseflesh rippled up her arm.

"You cold?" he asked, always too perceptive.

"No. I'm fine."

"I've got a jacket."

"No. Really. I'm not cold."

He studied her a moment, no doubt taking in the flush on her cheeks.

A slight smile curled on his lips, and she knew she'd been had. Fortunately he was a gentleman and didn't call her out, but the smirk dancing across his lips was painful enough.

She still hadn't told him about the creepy phone call or the footprints outside her window, and she almost wanted to let it just slide, knowing it would only distract him from the investigative plans he had for the day, but he'd want to know.

"Jake."

He looked over, his green eyes dazzling in the sun streaming through the Cessna's front window. "Yeah?"

"I need to tell you something."

He shifted toward her. "Okay."

"I would have said something sooner, but I didn't want to distract from Cole and Bailey's day."

"I knew it."

"What?"

"I could just tell something was bothering you." He rested his hand on the back of her seat. "What happened?"

She explained the phone call and footprints, then tried to read his stoic expression.

Jake clamped his hand on the headrest, his knuckles bulging. "Brody's just going to keep pushing until he ends up behind bars."

"That's just it." She swept her hair over her shoulder. "I don't think it was Brody."

"What? Why not? Because we didn't catch him leaving the note on our windshield?"

"You still think he left the note?"

Jake looked down.

"You don't-the pieces don't fit-so why is it so hard to believe the creepy call was someone else too?"

Jake looked at her, concern filling his face. "Because Brody's easy. Containable."

"And whoever called me?"

Jake swallowed. "Why do you think it was someone else?"

"Because it felt different."

"Like the spray-painted message?"

"Yeah. The banged-up propeller rang true for a bunch of guys buffed up on alcohol and testosterone-stupid, but not dangerous-but the messages, they felt darker."

Jake sighed, releasing his grip on the seat and folding his hands in his lap. "I agree."

"Then who do you think is sending them?"

"Conrad's killer."

"Meaning . . . Viv and Stuart?"

"They're a strong possibility."

"But . . . ?"