Serve ‘N’ Protect by Tee O’Fallon

Chapter Thirteen

Cassidy stood in her bedroom, staring at herself in the full-length mirror. Her chest tightened, and a serious case of what-did-I-get-myself-into slithered up her spine. Aside from her doctors and her worthless physical therapist, no one had seen her legs since the accident. They were so horrendous-looking, she’d been too self-conscious and ashamed to let her family see them.

How would Markus’s hands feel on her bare legs, massaging her muscles, and—

She shook her head to clear it of the very vivid, very unwanted direction her thoughts were taking her.

Markus was a handsome man. His physical assets had been obvious that first day when she’d peeled him off the floor, but there was so much more to him than the outwardly hardcore, albeit gorgeous, facade. For such a big, tough guy, he had the heart of a gentle giant, something that would, in all likelihood, shock him if she ever said those words out loud. Until last night, they would have shocked her, too.

When he’d held her as she’d cried her heart out, she hadn’t really thought of him as being gentle, let alone tender and sensitive to her needs. Now that he’d be touching her bare skin, it was impossible not to. As a trained military fitness guru, he’d no doubt view her injuries professionally, methodically. But still… The reflection staring back at her from the mirror wasn’t pretty.

The sad little sigh that escaped her lips made her feel utterly pathetic. Where once she’d had firm muscle tone was now the athletic equivalent of limp noodles. Multiple surgeries had left her skin puckered and crisscrossed with Frankenstein-esque scars. Not even an unlimited lifetime supply of scar cream would make them disappear. They would always be there, a grotesque reminder of what had happened that night. Would any man really want her again?

If they could get past her severe limp on the first date, perhaps there’d be a second, and with any luck, a third. Eventually, there’d be intimacy. But one look at her legs, and they’d run for the hills.

Another sigh, this one louder. The answer to her question about whether any man would ever want her again? Nope.

Numbly, she limped to the dresser and dug into the back of the drawer crammed with workout clothes that hadn’t seen the light of day in over a year. With shaky fingers, she pulled out sweatpants, a soft, worn old blue T-shirt from the last 10K she’d run a lifetime ago, and a pair of snug purple cycling shorts.

She stared at the shorts as if they were her mortal enemy. Only yesterday she’d been lit by determination to walk without a cane and get back to her old self. Now that the moment had come, she was scared to death and thoroughly annoyed with her sudden case of chickenshit-ness.

Grow a set of lady balls and quit whining. Do this for yourself. Because the rest of my life will, most likely, consist only of me, myself, and I.

With more force than necessary, she slammed the drawer closed. Markus wanted to help her, and she’d be stupid to turn down free PT advice.

She tossed the clothes and her cane on the bed then sat and began undressing. Odd, how it took a total stranger to push her into doing things she should have done months ago but couldn’t, not even with her family’s help. Markus had been there for her yesterday, helping to seal an open wound with Hugh that had never closed. Now it was, permanently, and Hugh was finally part of her past. Hating him for what he’d done wasn’t in her nature.

There’d been a time, mere months ago, when she would have flown straight back into his arms if he’d shown up on her doorstep. Now, she couldn’t imagine taking him back. The life ahead of her was daunting and fraught with unknown paths, but they were paths forward, not back, which was a good thing no matter which direction she chose.

With heartfelt conviction, she finished dressing then went downstairs and grabbed her medical file. Before heading out the door, she called Teedle Tech’s main number and asked for Walt Teedle himself. A moment later, they were connected.

“Cassidy, how are you?” Walt asked cheerfully. “I hope you’re calling to tell me my audit is done.”

“Uh, no,” she admitted, grimacing even though it wasn’t her fault. “I’m still waiting on those receipts and invoices I requested two weeks ago. I left a detailed message with your office.”

“I apologize,” Walt said, then paused. “We’re in the process of switching to a new storage unit and some of the boxes were misplaced. Can’t you finish the audit without them and just use the annual income statements I sent you earlier by email? I’m kind of in a hurry to get this done. In fact, if you can make the Christmas deadline, I’ll throw in a twenty percent bonus.”

Cassidy nearly choked. Rather than charge Teedle an hourly rate, as was typical for most accounting firms, she’d gone with a lump sum fee. Twenty percent on top of that was not unsubstantial. With all that extra cash she could do beaucoup repairs on her house.

She sighed. Without those documents, Teedle’s numbers still wouldn’t add up. As much as she wanted that bonus, she couldn’t just make stuff up. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I can finish without them. I still need to see the receipts and invoices that support what’s in your annual income statements. Is there a possibility you have computer backups for those documents?” What she wasn’t saying was that everyone backed everything on computers these days. Even she did.

“Probably,” he answered after a long moment. “I’ll light a fire under my assistant and get them to you ASAP.”

“Thank you. And Walt,” she added quickly before he had a chance to hang up. “Thank you for this opportunity. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re quite welcome, Cassidy. Happy Holidays.”

After ending the call, she stared at the phone wondering why his assistant had dropped the ball. She’d sounded so darned efficient over the phone. At least Walt seemed to understand that none of this was Cassidy’s fault.

A moment later, she was out the door.

When Markus didn’t answer her knock, she used her key and went inside. Hopefully, since he knew she was coming back, he wouldn’t whip out his big, bad pistol again. “Markus?” The door to the basement was open. Scampering came from the basement stairs and a moment later Ghost’s head appeared as he greeted her, his thick white tail wagging.

“Hi, boy.” He pranced around her legs until she gave his ears a quick scratch. Unlike his partner, Ghost had no problem expressing himself.

“Down here,” Markus called.

With Ghost leading the way, she clumped down the stairs to find the room warm and toasty. Markus pulled a folded towel from a metal bin. When he faced her, every bead of saliva in her mouth dried up.

A snug black T-shirt covered his torso, outlining every cut muscle, and there were a lot of them. Black sweats covered his legs but there was no concealing the strength of his thighs or the power in his body as he walked toward her like a jungle cat slinking through the forest. If this was what the man looked like when he wasn’t working out, she could only imagine his body when he was.

“Let’s do this.” He took the file from her then set the towel on the bench. “First, we’ll warm your muscles with moist heat, then massage them to get the blood circulating even more. After that, I want to run you through some easy strength exercises to gauge where you’re at.”

That tightness in her chest threatened to make a comeback. Okay then. Moment of truth.

Turning away, she took off her jacket and draped it on a dumbbell rack. She sat on another bench and peeled off her sweats. One look at her scars and she squeezed her eyes shut, covering the tops of her thighs with her hands. Chickenshit,her mind screamed. Get up!

She walked to the bench where Markus waited for her. His gaze went to her legs but he wasn’t scrutinizing her body the way a man looks at a woman he’s interested in. This was an impersonal assessment, as she’d hoped and expected. It was the only way she’d get through this.

“Lie down.” He took her cane and handed it to Ghost as the dog walked over to see what they were doing. Ghost took the cane in his mouth then went to his bed in the corner and dropped it on the floor. A moment later, he curled up into a tight, fluffy white ball. “For the rest of this workout, no cane.” He draped the warm towel over her thighs, tucking it tightly beneath her.

“If you say so.” She moaned as the comforting warmth from the towel began seeping into her legs.

“I do say so.” When he crossed his arms, she couldn’t tear her eyes from his powerful biceps that threatened to bust his shirt at the seams. “You want to get rid of that cane? The time is now, so no negative thinking.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” She threw him a salute, much as she’d done to Captain McMurray.

Markus grabbed her file and a clipboard from a table. “You told me they said you’d never walk again, but you are. Limitations are only what you accept. Very few are unsurpassable.”

“Did Sun Tzu say that?”

“No. I did.” He caught her eye. “The point is, you have to believe in yourself. And before you ask, Sun Tzu did say that.”

Markus and Sun Tzu were right. She did have to believe in herself.For the first time in a very, very long time, hope coursed through her mind and her body.

He opened her file, making an occasional hmph as he flipped through page after page. The reports were one thing, written in emotionless, factual medical lingo, but she knew the instant he’d gotten to the photos. Dark brows lowered and his lips compressed. Yeah, the images of her leg shortly after the crash were vivid and awful. She could barely stomach looking at them herself.

After a few more minutes of hmphing his way through the rest of her file, he tossed it back on the table then removed the towel from her legs and draped it over his shoulder. “This might be a little uncomfortable at first, maybe even painful. If it hurts too much, let me know.”

When he rested his hands on her thigh, she flinched but not from pain. Oh no, Nelly. Everywhere his hands touched, deliciously warm tingles skittered across her bare skin. As he gently began massaging her leg, her brain started shorting out. All she could feel now were his long, strong fingers digging into her flesh and— Oh, Jesus. Please, God, no. She glanced down, holding back a groan of abject mortification. Her nipples were as hard as olive pits, jutting so sharply against her T-shirt they looked ready to break right through the thin, worn fabric.

Not wanting Markus to shift his attention from her legs, she slowly moved to cross her arms over her breasts to cover the embarrassingly pert little buds, but not in time.

He glanced up. “Good?” Just before her hands reached their urgent destination, his gaze dipped to her breasts.

Shoot. Shoot, shoot, shoot!Two days ago, she’d been shot at and less than an hour ago Markus had pointed his gun at her. Ironically, all she could think right at that moment was: Just shoot me now.

“Um, yeah.” Aside from her embarrassment, she had to admit whatever he was doing felt better than good, significantly so, to the point where she really needed to focus on something other than the effect he had on her. “So other than what brought you to Leonardtown, I don’t know much about you.”

He shrugged, returning to his heavenly ministrations. “Not much to tell.”

Cassidy couldn’t be certain if he was regressing back into his stoic-guy thing or whether he was just concentrating. His hands continued working their magic, drawing her attention to his fingers. She’d never seen him wear a wedding ring, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one tucked away somewhere. Before the accident, she used to get hit on by lots of men who didn’t wear rings but turned out to be married.

“You said you’re not married and you don’t have a girlfriend. Why not? I mean, I’d think a guy with your looks would attract women like shrimp to a grit.” She held her breath. His response shouldn’t matter, but it did.

As he dug his thumb into a knot in her muscle, a corner of his mouth lifted. “You think I’m good-looking?”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” But yeah, like she’d thought earlier, he was. Now that she was thinking about it again, it wasn’t just his looks. Despite his surliness, there was something innately attractive about him. He moved higher on her upper thigh, close to parts of her that hadn’t known a man’s touch for quite some time. Involuntarily, she stiffened, relaxing only when his hands moved back down. “Answer the question. Why not?”

“You’re really nosy, you know that?” He kept digging into that knot.

“Like I said, it’s a family trait, so you might as well answer me or I’ll never stop asking.” Or wondering.

His hands stilled and for a moment she thought he’d shut down. “I don’t have a problem meeting women, but when it comes to lasting relationships… It’s never worked for me.”

“Because of your job?” she asked. “All the cop shows on TV have characters that wind up alone because of the long hours they work and their cynicism.” Ironically, for the last year, she’d been the poster girl for cynicism.

“It’s not that.” He moved to her other leg. “They all say I don’t open up enough.”

“Gee whiz.” She propped up on her elbows then batted her lashes. “I can’t imagine where they’d get such an idea.” The more she thought about their initial conversations and his terse, one-word responses to all her questions, the more she realized he’d been opening up a lot since then.

Markus narrowed his eyes, pinning her with his laser-sharp gaze, but there was unmistakable humor behind that killer glare. “Get on the bike, wiseass.” He hitched his head to the recumbent bike in the corner.

She swung her legs over and stood, expecting to revert to her usual wobbly state, but she didn’t. “Good massage. You have talented hands.”

He smirked. “So I’ve been told.”

“I’ll just bet you have.” Cassidy ambled to the bike, her muscles feeling looser than they had in months. She slid onto the seat and started peddling. “Why don’t you try opening up more? It’s as simple as that, really.”

“It’s not,” he snapped. His face had turned hard, telling her she’d hit a nerve. A seriously sensitive one. “There’s a lot of psychology behind why some people—like you, for instance—don’t have a problem spilling their guts to everyone they meet. You grew up with a loving family. Not everyone did.”

He turned his back on her as he adjusted the weights on a leg press machine. That nerve she’d hit was really sensitive. Even though she didn’t have a psych degree like he did, it didn’t take one to understand that his family life had been nothing like hers. From the tense set of his shoulders, prying any further would only push him away.

Her heart went out to him. No matter how big and strong he was, no one was immune to emotional pain. Whatever was simmering beneath the surface wasn’t good. If he didn’t get it out, one day he’d explode.

The rest of the workout passed in relative silence. They made their way around the gym equipment with Markus noting her weight and rep limitations on the clipboard. When they finally made it to the leg press, sweat beaded her forehead and her T-shirt was damp with perspiration.

“Two more reps,” Markus ordered. “You can do it.”

“No pain no gain, right?” Cassidy gritted her teeth as she pushed harder. In comparison to what she’d endured in the moments after the accident, this was no more painful than a bee sting. With her last rep completed, she pivoted and swung her legs off the equipment.

“They all said I couldn’t express myself,” Markus said, his face a blank mask.

For a moment, she didn’t know what he was talking about. Then it hit her. “You mean the women you’ve known?” He gave a curt nod and she took that to mean he’d opened the conversational door. “Why do you think that is?”

“After my mother died, my father took over our lives. When he wasn’t an absentee parent, he was a narcissistic asshole. The only affection he had was for himself. He…”

“He what?” She touched his forearm, urging him to continue.

“That’s enough gut-spilling for one day.” He gave her a half smile—one that, characteristically, didn’t make it to his eyes.

There it was again. The figurative door shutting in her face. He was a man in pain who wanted to talk but couldn’t. “I’m guessing that was more personal information than you’re accustomed to giving.”

“Your guess is spot on.” He jerked his head to a table on the other side of the room. “Ghost. Water bottle.”

Ghost went to the table and grabbed a water bottle in his teeth. He brought it to them, letting the bottle slip free into Markus’s waiting hand. She expected it to be punctured in at least one place, but it wasn’t.

He handed her the bottle. “You earned this.”

“Water? I earned a lot more than this.” She held up the bottle. “Try that pepperoni pizza in the bottom of my freezer. Talk nice to me, and I’ll share it with you. Oh, wait. I forgot you’re carb-free. Well, more pizza for me. If the weeds were growing outside, I’d make you a dandelion salad.”

“Actually, Little Miss Snark,” he said, setting the clipboard on the bench behind him, “that’s not a bad idea. Dandelion leaves are loaded with vitamins and antioxidants.”

“Well, don’t botanical factoids just get your heart racing?” She stood and her leg, unaccustomed to the workout, promptly gave out from beneath her.

Markus grabbed her upper arms, steadying her. Instead of releasing her right away, he just stared at her, frowning and scowling, if that were even possible. “Yeah. They do,” he murmured.

His gaze dropped to her lips and he took a step closer, cupping her face with one hand. The fresh scent of whatever soap he’d used filled her lungs, along with his own brand of sexy-as-hell man-scent. As he slowly lowered his head, her lips parted and she held her breath.

Was he going to kiss her? Did she want him to? Oh. Yeah. She did, and with every inch their mouths drew closer, her stupidly hopeful heart pounded faster.

Who knew dandelions were the way to this man’s heart?

Markus released her and when he stepped back, there was no missing the flicker of regret in his eyes. “We should get that pizza in the oven,” he said in a voice so gruff it sounded as if someone had taken sandpaper to his vocal cords.

Or not.

As she watched him and Ghost go up the stairs, Cassidy breathed deeper to slow the wings of those beating butterflies in her belly. Kissing him had just leaped to the top of her Most Wanted list, but it was just as well he hadn’t gone through with it. Getting too attached to him would be in direct violation of the second item on her New Year’s resolutions list: Never, ever, get her heart broken again. Just as importantly, being kissed by him would only have given her a fleeting taste of something that wouldn’t last. Sooner or later, Markus would leave. He was part of another world, and he’d only dropped into hers temporarily.

What she ought to do was make the most of his company and his physical therapy while it lasted. Then call it good when he left.

Cassidy took a deep breath then grabbed her cane and headed for the stairs. Not that she was close to falling in love with Markus, but getting hung up on a guy like him would be stupid. It had never been in her nature to give up on love or stop hoping for it again, even if the price to be paid for love gone wrong was loss and pain, but with Markus, that pain was guaranteed.

And she wasn’t ready for more pain.