Second Honeymoon Part 56

"It's okay," I said.

"I'm sorry."

"Really, it's fine. For the record, we went to Rome."

"Was it great?"

"It absolutely was," I said. "Right up until I broke my arm."

"You broke your arm on your honeymoon?"

"Yep. I tripped and fell down the Spanish Steps while eating a double scoop of chocolate gelato."

She started to crack up. For someone so attractive, she had this really goofy laugh, almost like Arnold Horshack's from Welcome Back, Kotter. I liked it.

"I know-how clumsy, right?" I started laughing, too. "d.a.m.n good gelato, though."

It occurred to me that up till now Sarah and I had barely talked about our lives outside of work. Felt pretty good. Natural. I could sense she thought so, too.

"So tell me about your two boys," she said.

"Ah, my favorite subject..."

I told her about Max and John Jr. while trying to keep the excessive fatherly pride at a minimum. Still, it was hard not to gush, especially given how much I was missing them. When I finally shut up about how great they were, Sarah simply stared at me and smiled.

"What? What's that look for?" I asked.

"I was thinking how lucky they are to have you as a father," she said. "They mean the world to you, don't they?"

"They do, but it's the other way around. I'm the lucky one," I said. "Now, what about you? Do you and your boyfriend both want kids?"

She shot me a look. "Nice try, O'Hara. You just want to know if I'm dating anyone."

"Well, we are on our honeymoon, after all. It's only fair that I know."

"In that case, the answer's no. I'm not currently cheating on you with anybody."

I opened my mouth to say something, but she stopped me with a raised palm.

"And please don't tell me how surprising it is," she said. "You know, the fact that I don't have a boyfriend."

"Actually, all I was going to say is that I understand. It's got to be hard for you."

She looked at me, unsure. "How do you mean?"

"You're a female FBI agent. You're trained in hand-to-hand combat and you carry a gun," I said. "Most guys would be intimidated by that."

Her look suddenly changed. She was staring back at me as if I'd just tapped into her innermost thoughts. "How did you know that?" she asked.

"Lucky guess," I said. "But don't get any ideas. I'm still sleeping on the couch again tonight."

She started laughing again. We both did. Then we both suddenly stopped.

The cabin had gone pitch black. Every light around us, even the one hanging over the porch outside, had gone dark.

The power was out.

Chapter 89

I WASN'T SURE which sound I heard first, the window shattering or the shots being fired. But I was d.a.m.n sure I felt the bullet that grazed my shoulder.

"Down!" I yelled. "Down, Sarah!"

My eyes had adjusted barely enough to see the outline of Sarah hitting the floor with me as more bullets-one, two, three-came through the window, the shards of gla.s.s landing all over us. How the h.e.l.l is this happening?

I reached for my Glock and could hear Sarah doing the same. Meanwhile, the shots outside had stopped. Was it over? Or just intermission?

I whispered to Sarah. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she said. "You?"

"Yeah. One nicked me, that's all."

"You sure?"

I pressed my palm against my shoulder. There's bleeding and then there's bleeding. Luckily, it was the former.

"I'm fine," I a.s.sured her. "Window or door; which one you got?" As in, which one do you want to cover?

"Door," she said.

I raised my arms toward the window, locking both elbows. The only other window, a tiny one, was in the bedroom, but we were clear of it.

"What's he got? M16?" I asked. It was my best guess, given the three-round bursts and slightly higher pitch of the weapon.

"That or an M4 carbine," she said. "Tough to tell, given the distance."

"At least forty yards."

"Maybe more," she said.

"And he cuts the power first?"