This time, she was the one who didn’t listen. “Diego says I should see the McCabe family hotel in San Francisco.”
Huck grinned. “He likes the towels. I should get him a set.”
“I’ve only been to San Francisco once,” she said.
“All right. We’ll stay at the McCabe family nuthouse-I mean, hotel-for a few days.” He put his arms around her waist, his eyes serious now. “But we’re not honeymooning there. No-don’t talk. I love you, Quinn. I want to marry you and be with you for the rest of our lives.”
“We fell hard for each other, didn’t we? Damn, Huck, I’m starting to cry!”
“A hard-ass Harlowe like you?” He grinned. “We need to get a move on. Diego’s waiting for us.”
“But he went back to California.”
“Nah. He had to come out here one last time. As himself. Without the Yankees shirt, not playing fisherman. Smoking one last cigarette.” Huck winked at her. “He wants to take us out on his boat.”
“I love you, Huck. I don’t think I said that-”
“I kind of got that feeling.” He tightened his hold on her. “We need to put some ghosts to rest, Quinn. You, me, Diego. We’ll go out on the water and drink a toast to lost friends, and we’ll make this place special again.”
Quinn looked out at the water, mirrorlike under the blue-gray sky. “I was thinking I’d have to sell my cottage.”
“Then I’d have to buy it. I can’t think of a better spot for a honeymoon than right here.”
She thought of Alicia, and knew somehow that her friend would approve.
An osprey circled out at the mouth of her cove. When they’d gone back for Alicia’s bag, the FBI evidence team had taken care not to disturb the nest. Now, there were osprey babies.
“Ospreys mate for life, you know,” Quinn said.
“My kind of birds.” He kissed the top of her head. “Let’s take a walk and go find Diego.”