Page 98 of S.O.S. Mizzay

“I guess I can wait,” Andy sighed and winked.

Nik recovered with a cough and a straightening of his already perfect tie, then turned to Chuck. “Now, I’m dying to hear this, Smalley. Can I ask what damning intel you found on Special Agent Beranger?”

Chuck looked around to make sure the four of them were alone before he bent close and cleared his throat.

“Nothing,” he told them in a whisper.

“What?” Andy responded with a squeak.

“Nothing?” Nik followed up incredulously.

“That’s right,” Chuck confirmed. “But I know guys like him, and they always have skeletons, so… I made it all up. Let’s just say it’s a good thing he has at least some kind of shameful past, or we would have been sunk.”

Andy moved in for a high-five.

Chuck rolled his eyes, but returned the gesture.

Andy chortled. “Nowwho’s bad-ass?” She gave him kudos.

“My cousin,” Cobble seconded, stepping up to punch Chuck playfully in the arm. “And I’d offer to buy you lunch, but since you decreed that Andy and I can’t make out on the courthouse steps, I have to go home to take care of business.” He waggled his brows lasciviously at Andy, and she giggled.

“Gross, man. I’m with Nik. Don’t advertise that shit.” Chuck sighed. “And I have places to be, anyway,” he told them.

“Mmm,” Andy hummed. “That wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with a certain agent who had to spend time in jail, and might still need some…comforting, does it?”

“Mind your business,” Chuck gruffed, walking backward a few steps. “I’ll…talk to you later.” He regained his professional aplomb. “Good job in there today, Sawyer.” He gave a half-assed salute and hurried off down the stairs.

The three who were left, chuckled.

“He’s really an old softy, isn’t he?” Nik marveled.

Cobble agreed. “Yup. I couldn’t ask for a better cousin.”

But Cobble didn’t perseverate. He had an agenda, and now was the time to implement it.

He turned and yelled down to where Chuck was just about to get into his car. “Hey, Cuz. You’re going to be my best man, right?”

Chuck gave a rare, toothy smile, then sent Cobble a thumbs up.

“Cool,” Cobble grinned.

“Wait.” Andy was looking at Cobble with narrowed eyes. “Was that my proposal? I know we agreed we’d get married once the trial was over, but you said when you asked, I’d know it.”

“Oh,” Cobble blinked. “Were you looking for something like this?”

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small box, then got down on one knee.

Andy’s hand went to her mouth. “No way,” she rasped.

Cobble opened the box and took a deep breath. He hoped the emerald nestled within—the color of Andy’s eyes—met with her approval.

“Oh…Cobble.” It seemed like she was uncustomarily at a loss for words.

“You like it?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably but prepared to spend as much time on one knee as it took.

“I love it,” she hushed.

Taking that as permission, he cleared his throat.

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