Serve ‘N’ Protect by Tee O’Fallon

Chapter Twenty-Four

“So how did you two meet exactly?” Cherisse, Sean’s fiancée, asked Markus from across the dining table.

Cassidy sat to his left, looking like a Christmas ornament in a bright red sweater with tiny gold beads. Her younger sister, Kaitlyn, with the flaming head of curls sat to his right. On his lap bounced Jimmy’s four-year-old son, Finn. Though he’d done nothing to earn the honor, for some reason the boy had taken a liking to him and had practically crawled right up his leg.

“I, uh…” Explaining the circumstances was probably not for dinner table conversation.

“He fell off a ladder and knocked himself unconscious,” Cassidy supplied. “Send that bread over here, would ya, Ryan?” she asked Brianna’s husband.

“He what?” Cassidy’s mother, Fiona, paused with a bit of breakfast ham on her fork.

“Sure thing, Cass.” Ryan picked up the basket of Irish soda bread, handing it to Jimmy’s wife, Olivia.

“Were you hurt, dear?” Fiona pressed. “What were you doing on a ladder?”

With the entire Morgan clan, plus Brianna’s and Jimmy’s spouses and kids, as well as Cherisse’s parents and two older brothers, there were over twenty people seated at the table. Markus didn’t know dining tables came this big. He watched the basket of bread get handed off from one person to the next, finally making its way to Cassidy.

“Changing a lightbulb,” Cassidy said as she slathered butter on a slice of bread and winked at him. “He’s clumsy that way.”

Little Finn took that moment to toss a scrap of ham to Ghost, who lay on the floor directly behind Markus.

“I am not clumsy,” Markus countered, sending Cassidy a stone-cold glare he normally reserved for bad guys, but she wasn’t having any of it and just winked at him again. “I was in a prescription drug–induced haze, if you recall.”

“Oh, well, that’s true. I did kinda forget about that.” She pointed to a platter next to Brianna. “Bri, could you pass the sausage?”

Brianna handed her the platter. “You act like you haven’t eaten in a week.”

Cassidy speared a sausage. “I’ve been working out a lot.”

Kaitlyn snorted, arching a brow as she looked at Markus. “I’ll bet.”

Oh man. Accepting Fiona’s invitation had gone against every instinct of his being, but he’d also known how much the whole Christmas-with-the-fam thing meant to Cassidy. So he’d swallowed the ginormous lump of chickenshit in his throat and said yes. Now, he was paying the price because Cassidy hadn’t been kidding. Her entire family loved to talk and just plain say anything that came to their minds.

“Knock it off, Kaitlyn,” Ian admonished.

Cassidy jabbed a forkful of poached egg in her sister’s direction. “Seriously, that PT guy I was going to was a waste of time. Markus has been helping me with my rehab, and it’s working wonders. Didn’t any of you notice that I hardly ever need my cane anymore?”

Seemed like every single person seated at the table over the age of ten looked around for Cassidy’s cane.

“See what I mean?” Cassidy continued. “Markus was a military fitness instructor and knows what he’s doing.”

“What branch were you in?” Ian asked.

“The marines, sir.”

“And now you’re in the Secret Service protecting the President. That’s impressive,” Cherisse said with no small amount of awe in her voice—awe Markus didn’t feel he deserved, especially considering what had happened to him.

Then came the inevitable barrage of questions.

“What’s it like protecting the President?”

“What’s he like?”

“Is the First Lady as pretty as she looks on TV?”

“Have you and Ghost ever been on Air Force One?”

“I don’t actually interact with them much.” Markus fidgeted in his seat, not really comfortable talking about himself like this, let alone in front of so many people. “Ghost and I patrol the White House grounds. Our main job is to keep trespassers out and to respond if there’s an incident.”

Sean nodded. “Like that time a guy actually got over the fence and one of the K-9s took him down. I saw that on TV.”

“Exactly.” Markus took another piece of ham away from Finn. He’d caught all the other kids doling out pieces of Irish sausage and black pudding to Ghost when they thought Markus wasn’t looking. “The dog’s name is Hurricane. He’s a black Belgian Malinois. Retired now.”

“Then Ghost is a cop, too, right?” This question came from Brianna’s nine-year-old daughter, Mikaela.

“He is. He wears a uniform and body armor, just like the rest of us.”

Sean stared at him, his eyes narrowing. “You’re an awful long way away from the White House. Any chance you’re here, say, recuperating from a serious injury?”

Beneath the table, Cassidy rubbed his thigh. It was as if she knew this would be difficult for him to talk about.

Might as well get it out there and be done with it. “I did get hurt. I’ve been taking some time off, recuperating at a friend’s house next to Cassidy’s.”

Sean smacked his palm on the table. “I knew I recognized you. You’re the Secret Service cop who got knifed in the back. Literally. And your partner was killed the same way. I’m sorry. Did you ever catch whoever did it?”

All eyes turned to him as the entire table went dead silent. Cassidy had taken his free hand, interlacing their fingers.

“We got him.”

Ian frowned. “So the danger’s over now?”

Markus nodded. “It is.” And he could finally breathe easier.

Fiona scooted back her chair then rose and wrapped him in a big bear hug from behind. “Oh, you poor boy!”

Every muscle in Markus’s body went rigid. Hugging of this magnitude by someone he barely knew was beyond his comprehension. He looked at Cassidy, whose subtle shrug and knowing smile said it all: This was the Morgan way. They really were a demonstrative bunch.

Fiona continued squeezing him, much the way he’d seen her do to Cassidy after hearing she’d been attacked by a burglar. Slowly, he forced his muscles to relax. This, then, was what he’d been missing most of his life. Aside from his sister and now Cassidy, there’d essentially been no heartfelt demonstrations of physical affection from anyone.

For the rest of the meal, Cassidy’s mother fussed all over him, plying him with more food than his stomach could possibly house. Then, after breakfast, the entire family gathered in the living room around the tree to exchange gifts. Initially, he’d hung back, figuring to make an excuse that Ghost needed to go out, but Ian had taken him firmly by the arm and insisted he join them.

Sitting on the sofa, jammed in like a sardine between Cassidy and Kaitlyn, sweat trickled between his shoulder blades. He didn’t belong here. Holidays were meant for family, and this wasn’t his family.

Ghost sniffed his way around the edge of the two-foot-high stack of wrapped gifts under and around the base of the Christmas tree.

“Ghost, come,” Markus said, indicating for Ghost to lie down at his feet. “Not for you, buddy.”

“Ghost has an excellent nose,” Fiona said, picking up one of the gifts. “One of them is for him. Who wants to give Ghost his present?”

In unison, all six children shouted, “Me! Me!” and reached for the gift in Fiona’s hand.

“Here,” she said, holding out the wrapped package. “All of you little ones hold on to it and give it to him together. Put it on the floor by his paws and let him open it.”

Giggling, the kids did as directed with Markus closely supervising. Ghost sniffed the wrapping paper, then, with one strategically placed swipe of his big paw, revealed the hard bone beneath the paper.

“Thank you,” Markus said, “but how did you—”

“My pleasure.” She made a dismissive gesture as she sat next to Ian. “We love dogs in this family. And I always have things on hand for every occasion.”

“She really does,” Cassidy said, snuggling closer to him until he draped his arm over her shoulders. God, can she smell any prettier? After her family had finally left this morning, they’d been in a hurry and showered separately in their own houses. One day, he’d find out what shampoo she used that never ceased to make him want to bury his face in her hair.

When the gift-giving commenced, the sweat trickling between his shoulder blades turned into a small river. Not only did he not have any gifts for anyone, but they wouldn’t have any for him. Not that he expected them to. Until a few hours ago, they hadn’t even known he existed.

Ghost made happy gnawing, chewing noises as he nibbled on the bone he’d been given. At least his dog was comfortable. He hadn’t even minded when the kids tied a big red bow around his neck.

Ten gifts in, the children alternated between rubbing Ghost’s belly and playing with their new toys. Fiona handed Markus a flat box wrapped in shiny red paper. “Merry Christmas, Markus.”

He stared at the pretty package for a moment, then realized everyone in the room was watching, waiting for him to unwrap it. How had they managed to come up with a gift for him so quickly?

Cassidy nudged him. “Open it, silly.”

He did. Inside was a black knit cap with matching gloves. “Thank you,” he mumbled, swallowing hard. On a scale of one to ten, his familiarity with family holidays pegged a solid zip, but this was so not what he’d expected today. “How did you do this?”

Fiona used the same dismissive gesture as when he’d asked about Ghost’s bone. “As I said, every occasion, my boy.”

Sean reached under the tree then handed him another gift, this one in a small white envelope, the kind you find on the checkout line at a grocery store. “We pitched in and got you something. We don’t know you well, but you’re a cop, so…this seemed like a safe bet.”

“I can’t accept this.” He held out the envelope, intending to return it to Sean, when the entire room went silent, even the kids who’d been rubbing Ghost’s belly. “I didn’t get anything for any of you.”

“Didn’t you?” Ian nodded from his patriarchal chair. “A year ago, we almost lost Cassidy. This year, it could have happened again when that burglar broke into her home. Cassidy is here with us, and we have you to thank for that.”

A lump the size of a Texas hail ball lodged firmly in Markus’s throat. He didn’t know what to say, which was a good thing because he doubted that he could talk at the moment. Job appreciation was something he’d become accustomed to. But this was different. This was personal.

Markus already knew it was a gift card. He could feel the hard plastic inside the envelope. He opened it and grinned. A $200 gift card for Dunkin Donuts. He laughed, as did everyone else. “Thanks.” Now he really needed to get his ass back in the gym.

When there was only one gift left under the tree, Cassidy’s lap was full of all sorts of presents from her family. She set them on the floor then reached under the tree and handed the last package to Markus. “Merry Christmas, Markus.”

Ah, shit. Not having gifts for Cassidy’s family was one thing, but he didn’t have anything for her. The flowers he’d sent her last night didn’t count. More sweat trickled between his shoulder blades. When they’d loaded up the back of his SUV with baskets of cookies and bags of wrapped gifts, he’d assumed they were all for her family.

She sat back down, nudging him again. “Open it.”

His hands never shook, not even when his platoon had invaded a tent city full of terrorists or when he’d faced down violent protestors in front of the White House. But as he tore off the gold paper, they trembled. Jesus, what was wrong with him?

His gut clenched tightly as he looked at the silver framed photo of him and Ghost. Ghost had his paws on Markus’s chest. They were in John’s backyard with their heads together in silent conversation. “When did you take this?” Christ, even his voice sounded gravelly.

She smiled. “Apparently, when you weren’t looking. It was a moment of perfect harmony between man and dog, one I just had to capture.”

And she had. Beautifully. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing there were a lot of eyes watching them. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“Did, too.” She landed a quick kiss on his lips, one he wanted to return but didn’t dare in front of her family, particularly her father and brothers. “You’re here with me, on my favorite day of the year, and,” she whispered, “I have a feeling you’re not going to let me pay you back for the laptop.”

She was right. He wasn’t.

A jumbled mess of feelings rolled through him. Contentment and joy muddled with a healthy dose of confusion. Part of him wanted to bathe in the warmth and belonging Cassidy had brought into his life. The other part left him edgy and uncertain. The idea that he would inevitably give her reason to run far and fast terrified him.

This, these people sitting all around him, was what Cassidy wanted—a big loving family of her own. After everything she’d been through, she deserved that and so much more. But he was broken and would probably always be that way. There was no reason to think this time things would be different and he wouldn’t fuck things up like he always did.

And then he’d lose the love she’d so selflessly given him.

The tightness in his chest was all too familiar, and he rubbed his fist along his breastbone.

Was he being selfish by staying? God, he didn’t know. The only thing he knew with unerring certainty was that he didn’t want to hurt her. He’d leave before ever letting that happen.

Being alone was what he did best.

…

Cassidy wiped another dish dry then peered into the living room. The children played with their toys, opting every so often to play with Ghost’s ears. Markus, along with all the other men, had their eyes glued to the TV, watching one college football game after another. Finn had taken a serious liking to Markus and sat firmly in his lap, rocking back and forth as if Markus was a rocking horse. He didn’t seem to mind.

A series of “ohs” came from the room as the quarterback was brutally sacked. Turning back to the kitchen, she shook her head, stacking the plate on top of the others she’d already dried. “Who declared Christmas afternoon a testosterone-fueled time of year for men to hog the TV? What if I want to watch a cooking show or a good movie?”

“It’s tradition,” her mother said, washing another plate at the sink and handing it to her. “Just as making cookies is yours.”

Well, she couldn’t fault her mom’s logic. At least Markus seemed to be more at ease watching football with the guys than he’d been over breakfast and during the gift giving. He’d been so antsy, she half expected him to cut and run.

“How long have you and Markus been a thing?” Cherisse asked as she wrapped up the leftover soda bread.

A thing? Were they a thing?

“Cass?” Brianna prodded. “C’mon. We’re on the edge of our seats here. How long have you been hiding him all to yourself, and are you a thing?”

She leaned against the counter. “We’ve been together for about a month. Well, not been together a month, we only just—” Oops. No need to get into that. After this morning, the entire family knew she and Markus had been intimate. “That part of our relationship is new, and for the record, I wasn’t hiding him. He was hiding out until he could figure out who tried to kill him.” Considering her family’s reaction to the burglary, there was no way on earth she was about to tell them about the shooting attempt on his life outside the hospital.

“Whatever he’s doing with your PT, it’s obviously working,” Brianna said. “I almost bought you one of those hand-carved wooden canes for Christmas. I’m glad I didn’t, because it looks like you won’t be needing it.”

She hoped not. It was high time she put that part of her life behind her.

“You’re good together,” Kaitlyn said, unwrapping a basket of chocolate chunk macadamia nut cookies.

“You think so?” What had Kaitlyn seen that made her so sure of that? Markus had never expressed his feelings for her. Given what he’d told her about himself, there was always the possibility he’d never be able to. Soon, he’d go back to his life, and the most she could hope for was scraps of his time. Being with him was still a big risk, and she had to accept that.

“Oh, come on.” Brianna swatted her with a towel. “Everyone knows you guys were holding hands under the table.”

Her mother pointed a dripping wet spoon at her. “You two looked like one of those couples in a Hallmark movie. Destined to be together, even if you don’t know it yet.”

Cassidy’s hands tightened around the towel. Destined to be together. Yes, she could see it, but could Markus?

“He doesn’t say much.” Kaitlyn began opening another basket of cookies, this one chocolate chip. “He’s got that strong, silent, and excruciatingly handsome thing down pat.”

Cassidy lowered her voice. “He had a rough family life, and it’s affected his ability to share his feelings and express himself.” To say the least. “But he’s kind, generous, caring, and courageous. I think he’d do anything for those he cares about.” She reached for a cookie and was about to bite into it when she caught everyone staring. “What?”

“Oh, my dear.” Her mother set down the platter she’d been washing to hug her. “You’re in love with him.”

Was she? The answer was swift and sure. Dear God, yes. She was.

“Have you told him?” Olivia asked.

“Has he told you?” Brianna prodded.

“No!” And she didn’t plan on it, not anytime soon.

“Okay.” Olivia held up her hands.

Brianna did the same. “Didn’t mean to pry.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump down your throats.” It was just that she didn’t have a clue how he really felt about her. Did he—could he—love her, or did it stop at caring?

The delicious food she’d eaten throughout the day gurgled uncomfortably in her stomach. She hoped she could get through Markus’s ironclad emotional wall. When the time was right, she’d tell him how she felt.