Cassie smiled. “My head is clearing. You look like you got your bell rung.”
He ran a finger over the bandage on his brow. “Not the first time—and it won’t be the last.”
She cocked her head. “Gator?”
“You’re tough as nails, and your eyes, they remind me of an alligator.”
Cassie giggled. “What do you do for Ian and Kieran?”
“I am the first executive officer at Chase Security, which translates to driver, errand runner, bodyguard, and anything else they come up with.” Martin made his job appear simple.
She nibbled her bottom lip. “How long have you worked for them?”
“I retired from active duty with Ian. I couldn’t see myself working under another leader.”
“You were a SEAL too?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m still a chief petty officer in the reserves.”
“Why did Ian bring us here to heal?”
“Ian wanted us healthy and has the means to make it so.”
Cassie crinkled her nose. “You’ve known him a long time, but why me?”
“Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t say anything, but I will tell you this: I’ve never seen Ian Chase care about anyone as much as he does for you. So, ask him, Gator.”
Cassie realized she wasn’t going to get far questioning Martin about Ian. Instead, they watched an episode of Dr. Phil about misbehaving millennials.
* * *
Ian brought Martin up to speed on the night’s plan. Lillian and Rachel made fun finger foods to try to tempt Cassie to eat. Monique and Sophie brought in board games, comedies, and fun colors of nail polish.
“Boss, Cassie is more aware than you think. Why don’t you tell her you and Christian are flying to San Diego to exhume the baby?”
Ian snapped at him, “No, it’s too hard on her.”
Martin surrendered. “I’ll keep a watch on her. I’ll let your mom paint my toenails pink to amuse her.”
Ian laughed.
“If it’s alright if the ladies have a girls’ night, request permission to have a poker night with the Paulsens, Jamie, and Eric.”
“Sure,” Ian said.
* * *
The June air was thick with humidity as a Chase Group jet stood warming up at Reagan National. Ian’s neck prickled a warning as he followed Christian up the steps of the white fourteen-passenger Dassault Falcon. Christian took his seat while Ian conferred with the pilots.
A few minutes later, a steward closed the doors and prepared for takeoff. “We should be there in about five hours, sir.”
“Thank you, Ron.” Ian placed his head against the seat. “Hope she won’t miss us,” he mused as the steward brought them a meal.
“She will. Cassie was very alert today. Chase, I need to apologize for selling you short. I’ve watched you with Cassie, and I wish you could see her face when you hold her. She hasn’t let a man near her since Whitman. I can tell you, she never looked like that with him. God, I wish she had given us a clue about what he was doing.
“Cassie asked Caleb and me to join her therapy session today. She apologized for making us keepers of her secrets—the pregnancy, the engagement end, and Wilds. I think she understands that, as her family, we will always be behind her through anything. Take good care of her, Ian. Love her like she deserves.” Christian sipped his drink.
“I will … if she’ll let me.”
