Page 84 of Undercover Hearts

"Even with the complications?"

"Especially with the complications," Michelle replied with quiet certainty. "They're ours, not fabricated for an assignment."

As they settled into bed, Jenna felt the rightness of this transition—not an ending but a beginning. What had started as professional partnership, evolved into undercover intimacy, and transformed into genuine connection now had space to grow without pretense or limitation.

Outside their window, Phoenix Ridge continued its nighttime rhythm, the city they had both sworn to protect now truly home in the deepest sense. Not because of geography or architecture, but because they had found in each other something neither had expected to discover—a partnership that transcended professional boundaries and undercover identities to become the most authentic relationship either had known.

EPILOGUE

5 YEARS LATER

Morning light filtered through the bedroom windows of the two-story house, casting familiar patterns across hardwood floors that Michelle had refinished herself three summers ago. She stirred slowly into consciousness, her internal clock still reliable at 5:45 a.m. despite the weekend. Beside her, Jenna remained deeply asleep, one arm thrown across Michelle's waist in the unconscious claiming that had become as natural as breathing over five years together.

Michelle allowed herself these precious moments of stillness, watching dust motes dance in the early light. The bedroom bore evidence of their intertwined lives: Jenna's chaotic stack of case files on one nightstand, Michelle's precisely aligned reading glasses on the other. A framed photo from their wedding eighteen months ago—both in dress uniforms, Jenna's smile radiant while Michelle's held that rare, unguarded joy she'd learned to show more freely.

She eased from bed stealthily, though Jenna barely stirred. Downstairs, their kitchen welcomed her with its domestic warmth. The coffee maker—a wedding gift from Chief Marten—began its automated cycle as Michelle retrieved two mugs fromthe cabinet. One bore the Phoenix Ridge PD logo; the other proclaimed "World's Best Wife" in Jenna's parents' handwriting.

Through the kitchen window, their backyard garden showed signs of Jenna's latest project: raised beds overflowing with tomatoes and herbs, evidence of her determination to master something beyond case files. Michelle smiled, remembering similar determination during their first undercover operation together—that focused intensity now channeled into creating their shared life.

An hour later, Jenna appeared in running gear, hair pulled back in a ponytail that made her look impossibly young despite her new responsibilities as head of Undercover Operations Training.

"Morning, baby," she said.

"Mmmm, morning," Michelle replied. "Ready for the department picnic?"

"As ready as one can be for mandatory fun." Jenna accepted her coffee, fingers brushing Michelle's with casual intimacy. "Though I hearsomeone'sreceiving a commendation today."

Michelle felt warmth creep up her neck. "Julia talks too much."

"Julia's proud of you. We all are." Jenna's expression grew serious. "The Reyes-Walsh Protocol has revolutionized multi-agency operations. Seattle just adopted it wholesale."

The recognition still felt surreal that the operational framework she'd developed had gained national attention. But more significant was how naturally their hyphenated name rolled off Jenna's tongue, the decision to combine surnames feeling inevitable rather than complicated.

Azure Park buzzed with the controlled chaos of Phoenix Ridge PD's annual picnic. Jenna navigated the crowd with ease, exchanging greetings with officers from various divisions while keeping Michelle in her peripheral vision—a habit born from their undercover days that had evolved into something tender rather than tactical.

"Lieutenant Walsh!" A young officer approached, nervousness evident in his posture. "I'm in next month's undercover training cohort. Any advice?"

"Remember that the best covers contain truth," Jenna replied, the lesson she'd learned from Michelle echoing through time. "And trust your partner completely. The connection between operatives can make or break an assignment."

The recruit nodded eagerly, unaware of the deeper meaning behind her words. As he departed, Detective Morgan Rivers appeared, her copper hair in a single braid.

"Are the novices getting younger or are we getting older?" Morgan asked.

"Both," Jenna admitted with a laugh. "How's the tech division treating you?"

"Can't complain. Though I miss our operation days sometimes." Morgan's expression grew wistful. "Speaking of operations, I hear you and Commander Michelle are consulting on the Harbor District case?"

"Starting Monday," Jenna confirmed. "First time we'll be running parallel operations since?—"

"Since you two couldn't keep your hands off each other during the PWC case?" Morgan's grin was deviously charming."The surveillance footage from that safe house was quite educational."

Heat flooded Jenna's cheeks. "That footage was supposed to be classified."

"Please. Half the department had a betting pool on when you'd finally admit what was obvious to everyone else." Morgan's expression softened. "For what it's worth, you two set the standard for how to transition a partnership from professional to personal. You literally wrote the handbook on it."

Across the park, Michelle deep in conversation with Chief Marten, her silver hair fully white but her posture still military-straight. Even from a distance, Jenna could read the subtle tension in Michelle's shoulders that meant she was discussing something she cared deeply about.

"The community liaison program," Morgan supplied, following Jenna's gaze. "Your wife's been pushing for expansion into the neighborhoods affected by the PWC fallout."