Page 62 of Serve ’N’ Protect

She raised her leg up, slowly let it down to the floor, and repeated the movement twenty more times. Her heart was full yet empty. Full of sadness that he wouldn’t be a stone’s throw away. Empty because he’d become a friend and… And what? All she knew was that she didn’t want to lose him.

Feeling so strongly about someone again was frightening. Hugh had hurt her terribly, so much so that she’d thought she might never recover. Giving her heart away again, let alone to a man who would leave her, was a bad, bad idea. Worse than bad. It was like, no cookies for the rest of your life kind of bad. And unlike Hugh, Markus accepted her for all that she was and all that she wasn’t. As much as she tried—as much as she knew it was for the best—tamping down her feelings for him was impossible, and they were intensifying with every moment they spent together.

She pushed up from the floor and tugged open the end table drawer for the remote. Maybe if she stared at the cold, flickering flames of the Yule log long enough, it would knock her out. Otherwise, she’d lie awake for hours, fretting about Markus until she was fifty shades of freaked out. She reached for the remote but stopped. Next to it was the gun Markus had insisted on leaving with her.

Gingerly, as if she might set the thing off, she closed the drawer. With the new security system in place, she hadn’t seen the need for him to leave her with a gun she barely knew how to use. But it seemed to make him feel better knowing it was there.

She reached for her cane but decided to go the short distance to the kitchen without it. There were more and more instances every day where she’d discovered the cane was no longer necessary to get from point A to point B, so yay for that.

At the counter, she adjusted several daffodil and orchid stems, leaning in to inhale their delicate floral scents. The brimming bouquet of rich yellow and deep pink blooms had arrived late, at around eight o’clock. At first, she’d been annoyed, thinking they were from Hugh still trying to get back in her good graces. The first time she read the card, her jaw had dropped to the floor, followed by so much joy in her heart she’d nearly tripped over her cane.

She picked up the card, smiling as she reread it for what had to be the tenth time.

Thanks for the cookies. Thanks for everything. Alex.

A nice sentiment, although she wasn’t completely certain what he was referring to by everything. As much as she wanted this to be more than just a platonic thanks between friends, that it was a purely romantic gesture filled with hope and the promise of something wonderful yet to come, she didn’t dare risk it. If she did, she’d only wind up hurt, and that pumping muscle in her chest would be stomped into a giant puddle of goo all over again.

Maybe it was better this way. Better for Markus to find the killer and leave before it was too late and she did something totally and utterly stupid. Like fall in love. God help her. Just thinking the word made her heart beat faster, in a rhythm definitely not friendship-esque.

When her phone beeped with an incoming text, she snatched it from the counter, her heart crazily pitter-pattering in her throat as she read the message from Markus.

Home in a few minutes. Making a quick stop.

She shut her eyes for a moment, resting her hand on the counter so she didn’t sink to the floor. He was obviously okay, but did that mean that Mansfield was the killer? Had he confessed? Did Markus arrest him? If not, what had he been doing all night? The most confusing thing of all was his use of the word home.

There was no use speculating. He was safe, and that was all that mattered.

After blowing out what felt like the most relieved breath of her life, she went to the bathroom and checked herself in the mirror.

Purple goose egg aside, the royal-blue Henley she wore made her eyes look pretty, but the face staring back at her was plain, so plain she wished she was one of those women who could swipe on mascara and eyeliner and look like a million bucks. The kind of woman she imagined Markus was accustomed to. Women probably threw themselves at him, what with that whole muscular, man-in-uniform thing he had going on and totally rocked. There was no chance of him ever seriously wanting her over one of the glamor goddesses he could no doubt snag with a snap of his fingers.

That didn’t stop her heart from pumping madly again when the sound of a car door shutting filtered into the house. A few moments later, she heard Ghost’s clawed feet on her porch. Excitement and nervous energy made her hands shake as she deactivated the alarm, flipped on the porch light, then flung open the front door.

Ghost’s tail wagged and he danced around in excited circles. Markus took the steps two at a time. Puffs of white air condensed in front of his face. With his typical emotionless expression, she couldn’t tell if things had gone well or not. But he was here and looking more drool-worthy handsome than ever.

She unlocked the outer door, holding it open. Ghost bounded inside, licking her hand while she scratched the top of his head. Markus shut the door behind him but didn’t speak.

“Well? Was it him?”

His lips flattened, his expression turning grim. “Yeah. We arrested him.”

“So tell me what happened?” The suspense was killing her.

Instead of giving her any answers, he clasped her face in his big, warm hands then leaned down, his eyes never straying from hers. “That can wait.”

Vaguely, she was aware of Ghost settling in front of the door. She swallowed as her mouth turned as dry as sandpaper. When her lips parted, his gaze dipped to her mouth, his breath washing over her face like a warm caress. In that moment, she’d never wanted to be kissed so much in her entire life, and it was all she could do not to scream the words out loud, damn the consequences. Kiss me.

The second their lips touched, her heart felt as if it had wings, flapping around and trying to fly right out of her throat. The kiss was soft and gentle, yet stole every ounce of breath from her lungs. She flattened her hands against his ridged abdominal muscles, sliding them higher to his hard pecs. When their tongues met, she willingly melted against him, pressing closer to his body and inhaling his clean, fresh, citrusy scent.

With an utterly male groan, he wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her in tighter, angling her head to kiss her hungrily, like a starving animal that hadn’t eaten in a week. A deep rumble came from the back of his throat, sending a rush of need directly to her core.

As their tongues tangled and danced, she fisted her hands in his shirt. Being held so firmly within the circle of his strong arms should have felt like being trapped in an iron vise. Instead, it was as if she were cocooned in a circle of hot, steely strength.

Breathing heavily, he lifted his head. “Do you want this?”

Through the thick haze of desire clouding her vision, the honest, naked truth of his question got through to her. He wanted her, and he wasn’t asking for anything more.

Uncertainty and fear wound their way to that teensy part of her brain that could still think rationally. Could she really do this, give her body to him and make love knowing he would leave her? Could she somehow keep her heart out of it? As to the part about her body, yes. That fuse had been lit and the sparks were racing to the point of no return. As for the other part, it was a question she couldn’t answer. Not yet, anyway.