Skye gave him a teary smile. “It’s definitely a yes.” She kissed him, then stood and drew him to his feet. “I don’t want you to sleep on the sofa.”

“Are you sure? After fighting those two big goons, you have to be hurting.”

Her pretty eyes sparkled. “I trust you to be careful.”

Edge couldn’t stop a smile. He kissed her softly, then followed her into the bedroom.

Half his life, he had been searching for a home.

With Skye, he had finally found one.

EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE

Six months later

SPRING HAD ARRIVED IN THE ROCKIES. MOUNTAIN SNOWS STILL COVERED the peaks in the distance, but a warm sun encouraged the grass to break through the soil, and the trees had begun to bud out.

After a productive day of working with Edge on a burglary case that involved the recovery of a woman’s valuable jewelry, Skye sat next to her husband at a table in the Fainting Goat. Around them at nearby tables, the after-five crowd laughed noisily, the sound echoing off the exposed brick walls, but Skye’s attention remained on the man she had married.

Her husband. The words made her smile.

She glanced down at the beautiful diamond wedding band on her left hand, wiggling her fingers to make the diamonds sparkle, then looked over at the gold band Edge was wearing.

Just weeks after Klaus Mahler and Webb Rankin had been arrested, they’d been married in an intimate ceremony with family and friends in a small, white-steepled chapel. Afterward, Conn had arranged a reception in his lovely old Victorian, the house Skye had grown up in. She and Edge had honeymooned in Aspen, in a suite at the five-star St. Regis Resort.

Now they were back in Denver, living in Edge’s apartment, which was larger than hers, with more closet space and even better views. Skye had changed a few things to make the place feel more homey, and they had settled in. They were comfortable and enjoying married life, but it hadn’t taken long before they were ready to get back to work.

Though Daniel Henson was in jail, serving eight to ten years in prison after cutting a deal with the DEA, law enforcement was still hunting the rest of Henson’s crew, names Daniel had traded for a lesser sentence. Skye and Edge were particularly on the lookout for Harley Purcell.

Skye took a sip of the ice-cold Coors the bearded server had brought and looked up to see Trace approaching them. Tall, handsome, and usually smiling, he strode toward them with a frown on his face.

“What’s up?” Edge asked as Trace pulled out a chair and took a seat across from them.

“I just got a call. I’m headed out to Boulder. Could be trouble.”

Skye and Edge exchanged glances. “If there’s trouble, you might need backup. You leaving right now?”

Trace nodded. “Yeah.”