Scarlett looked over at Connor, laughing at the amount of hot sauce the man had added to his eggs. No, not the man. Her man. Forever. She’d finally done it: put the hurt and guilt surrounding Derek’s death behind her and moved on.

In a weird way, she had Harrelson to thank for that, she supposed. Until that day of the school bombing, she hadn’t realized just how much guilt she’d been carrying around over Derek’s death. She’d blamed it all on her grief, but really her inability to move forward with her life was more than that. She’d blamed herself. That she’d encouraged him to the part of the taskforce, a “great opportunity,” that she hadn’t seen the danger before it was too damn late, even that she was a cop and still working the same job that had taken his life. It hadn’t mattered that Derek hadn’t seen it, either, or that he’d want her to be happy. Scarlett hadn’t been able to admit any of it to herself, and so she’d remained stuck in limbo for over a year. Not dead, but not living, either. Until Connor.

Connor McClellan had burst into her life in literally a blaze of glory. When she’d seen him at the first fire, in full turnout gear, outlined against the flames, he’d made her heart come alive again, to fight for something more than existing for the first time in months. And yet, her mind couldn’t follow what her heart had wanted. It couldn’t let go of the guilt.

Until Harrelson had admitted under interrogation that there’d been nothing she could have done. It was his fault: Derek’s death, the bombings, the entire damn thing. He’d masterminded the entire damn thing to cover up his own crimes. He was a dirty cop, on a terrorist’s payroll. Now, he was in federal custody, spilling the entire sordid secret to them. He was still trying to cover his own ass, but the good guys would win there, too. She was still sure of that.

She looked down at her plate, moving food around restlessly with her fork. They were supposed to be celebrating, and she was letting the past drag her down again. Recent past or years old, it didn’t matter anymore. She’d made the promise to Connor, and to herself, that she would allow herself to move on and live again. Love again. It was a promise she intended to keep.

All that time, she’d thought Harrelson’s grief from Derek’s death was the same as hers, when in reality, it had been the guilt of taking the life of one of his own men. He was forced to, according to him, by the men who controlled the syndicate he worked for. The same men who had masterminded the group Derek’s taskforce had been tracking, and the same men who had been experimenting with the deadly explosive TATP in Monroe.

It wasn’t until the day after the school bombing that the forensics from the earlier fires had come through. Amazing what you could do quickly when the Feds got wind of terrorist activity. She snorted. Guess they were useful for something, after all. Under the weight of the new evidence, Harrelson had folded.

The group had been trialing the explosive in Monroe, both for its explosive potential and damage and the first responders’ actions. All with plans to take out the National Guard building that day, and about a dozen high-ranking military officials and federal agents with it. The high school had been nothing more than a spectacular distraction, aimed at taking all the county’s resources away before they struck.

What they hadn’t counted on was Holly’s gut. Scarlett had learned the previous few weeks that it rivaled her own. Something hadn’t smelled right to Holly, even in all that chaos, and she’d kept a few units back. When Harrelson had been arrested at the school, those units, along with members of Derek’s original taskforce, had taken them down before they’d detonated their final bomb.

It was a bittersweet moment, seeing some of the men and women he’d worked with again. They hadn’t stopped after his death, vowing to discover what had really happened to him. Now, thanks to them and Connor, Derek had justice.

They all did.

The sound of a chair scraping on the floor brought her back to the present. “What?” Jeremy said, grinning at her. “You thought you’d be able to eat without us? Never.”

Scarlett chuckled, wincing in sympathy when their arms bumped together. Jeremy’s was in a sling too, his shoulder completely immobilized. He’d injured himself in the high school rescue, a torn rotator cuff that had sidelined him, likely for months. She could relate with his frustrations. She’d been damn lucky, with no nerve damage or broken bones, but the gunshot wound had still required surgery. She’d woken up to find Connor grasping her hand, his gaze locked on her face. When she’d opened her eyes, his expression had changed from tight stress to a smile so wide and beautiful she’d fallen in love with him all over again on the spot.

That’s what it was. Love. Now that the guilt and pain of the past had finally fallen away, Scarlett had been able to see what was right in front of her. She’d moved in with Connor while she was recovering from the surgery, and she’d never left. She still had at least a month before she’d be able to return to work, too, but hey, she could keep Jeremy company. Maybe they’d even see each other at physiotherapy. Though, from what she’d heard from the guys, Jeremy would rather keep his appointments just him and his new, very hot physiotherapist only. Scarlett chuckled. She and Connor had found each other on the job. Who was she to stand in the way of true love?

She leaned over the table, taking his hand and entwining her fingers with his. The crowd of sweaty and dirty firefighters that had surrounded their table prevented her from getting up and moving to sit next to him—had they even washed before stopping by on their last call of shift?—but that didn’t stop her from gazing into his eyes. From seeing the love that was reflected there. Nor did it stop her from quickly dropping his hand and stealing his last piece of bacon. Hey, she may be injured, but nothing was going to keep her down for long. Best he learned that now.

Connor’s eyes lit with lust, and he stood, leaning over the table, taking her mouth in a kiss. He ignored the hoots and cheers of his squadmates and took his time, his tongue thrusting into her mouth and tangling with hers, before he finally broke away, licking a droplet of maple syrup from the corner of her mouth. His eyes sparkled as he sat back down. “Hmmm,” he said. “Sweet.”

Scarlett grinned and stuffed the stolen piece of bacon in her mouth. Yes, life with Connor was sweet. Very sweet indeed. It even came with extra bacon. What more could a girl need? She stood, elbowing Jeremy out of the way with her good arm and ignoring his pretend yelp of pain, and then sat down on Connor’s lap. She rested her head on his shoulder, and his arms came around her, holding her tight. She needed nothing else. She was home.