Guard of Honor by Tracie Delaney

Chapter Twelve

Mack hard-stoppedas he entered the kitchen. On the table were three enormous helium balloons and a white envelope with his name penned on the front in impossibly neat handwriting.

“Surprise! Happy Birthday!”

Honor flung her arms around his waist and pressed her warm cheek to his chest while he stood there, stunned.

Fuck. He’d forgotten today was his birthday. He’d stopped marking the event after his split with Clara. What was the point in celebrating on your own? And his Royal Marine buddies only ever wanted to go out and get shit-faced, something he no longer did since he’d entered the recovery program. These days, a mere sniff of alcohol would give him a three-day hangover.

“What the fuck is this? And how the hell do you know it’s my birthday?”

Honor tapped the side of her nose. “I have ways and means.”

“I don’t celebrate my birthday.”

“You do today. I’m going to bake a cake. I Googled the recipe for a chocolate fudge cake.” She frowned. “You like chocolate, don’t you?”

A faint smile edged across his face at her enthusiasm. What harm could it do to celebrate just this once? Besides, thirty was a milestone that, during his time in captivity in Syria, he hadn’t expected to reach.

“Yes, I like chocolate.”

“Excellent.” She pulled out a chair at the table. “Sit. You can watch while I bake.”

“Honor. It’s seven fifteen in the morning. We can’t eat cake for breakfast.”

“Says who?” She pushed the card toward him. “Open it.”

He gave in and, plunking his arse on the chair, slid his thumbnail underneath the seal. He removed the card and chuckled at the image on the front. “Is this how you see me? As a cuddly teddy bear?”

She snorted. “Hardly. But there’s a distinct lack of cards available to buy online that show growly, scowling, bearded, tattooed giants.”

“I am not growly.”

She grinned. “You are sometimes. Especially in the beginning. Now you’re friendlier. I wore you down.” She pointed at the card. “Read the inside.”

He opened the card and was met with rows of the same neat handwriting as on the envelope.

Thank you for showing me that the life I once had is within my reach. I have a long way to go, but with you by my side, I know I’ll get there.

Happy birthday, big guy.

Honor xxx

Mack reread the inscription several times, and a switch flicked inside him. He closed the card and laid it on top of the envelope. Rising to his feet, he curved his hands around Honor’s cheeks and tipped her head back, pausing to stare into her eyes while he gathered himself. Her face was so close to his, her rosy lips parted in silent invitation, and his heart beat faster, thudding brutally inside his chest. If he did this, there was no going back. She wouldn’t be satisfied with a one-off moment of intimacy, and neither would he. Two damaged souls coming together was a terrible idea, but as the smell of her—all peaches and vanilla—filled his nostrils, he stopped caring. Life turned on a dime, and tomorrow waited for no one.

The tips of her fingers glided up his sides and over his pecs, and slowly, she cupped the back of his neck, her featherlike touch a drug he’d gladly become addicted to. Groaning, he kissed her, and the moment he did, all lingering doubts scattered. Her kiss tasted like home, like happiness, like belonging. He swept his tongue along her bottom lip, then plundered inside. Using his body weight, he leaned into her, forcing her to take several steps backward. Her back hit the wall. Planting his hands on either side of her head, he circled his hips and ground into her like a teenager getting his first taste of a woman behind the sports hall at school. Urgent, anxious, and afraid of getting caught and serving a long detention.

The door to the kitchen burst open.

“Oh, sorry.”

Mack spun around, shooting a furious glare at Lizzie. “Don’t you fucking knock?”

She planted her hands on her hips. “Excuse me? I live here. And before you came, there was no need to knock.” She shifted her gaze to Honor, who was busy trying to catch her breath. “Are you okay? Do you want me to call the police?”

“Police?” Mack snorted. “And tell them what? Two consenting adults were making out and enjoying every moment until they were fucking interrupted.”

He knew he was going over the top, but something about Lizzie set his teeth on edge, and the more time he spent around her, the more she aggravated him. He wished he could put his finger on exactly what his problem was, but as he couldn’t find the words, he’d rely on his instinct. He neither liked nor trusted the woman.

“Mack, it’s fine.” Honor gently touched his arm. “It’s his birthday,” she explained to Lizzie.

“And that’s his gift?” Lizzie clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Honor, I’m so sorry. That’s crossing a line.”

“You think?” Mack muttered.

Honor sent the housekeeper a kind smile. “Don’t worry, Lizzie. Look, I’m baking a cake. Why don’t you stay? It’ll be far too large for just us.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t want to intrude.”

Any more than you already did, Mack thought.

“Besides,” Lizzie continued, “I have a lot to do today. I’ll just grab some cereal and leave you to it.”

She made a point of banging dishes and sloshing milk over the side of her bowl. Eventually, she disappeared, closing the door more heavily than necessary, although stopping short of an outright slam.

“Poor Lizzie.” Honor stared at the closed door, her teeth worrying her lip. “I think she feels shoved aside. Before you arrived, I spent a lot more time with her, but now, what with me finally making progress with my recovery and…” Her cheeks pinked up, and she gave him a coy smile. “Y’know. Us. That. The kiss.”

“You’re blushing.” Mack grinned. “And this from the woman who baldly stated she wasn’t a virgin and knew what a… what was it you said? Ah, that’s it. Knew what a hard penis felt like.”

She reddened further until her face must have felt as if it were on fire. “Stop teasing me.”

Mack caught her hips and tugged her against him. “I like teasing you. You’re pretty easy to wind up.” He rubbed his semi against her. “Not quite a ‘hard penis,’ but give it a minute.”

“Mack!” She jabbed the heel of her hand against his shoulder.

He laughed and released her, showing his palms. “Okay, I’ll back off. Now, where’s this cake you promised?”

Honor reached into several cupboards, lining up jars of… stuff. He had no clue what went into making a cake, and given that she’d had to Google it, neither did she. He just hoped it was edible when she finished baking.

She stepped over to the fridge and opened it. “Where are the eggs?”

“I hope that’s a rhetorical question,” Mack said.

She spun in his direction, wide-eyed and panicked. “There were eggs in here yesterday. I checked specifically, knowing I’d planned to bake a cake, and now they’re gone.”

Mack shrugged. “Maybe Lizzie ate them. I’m sure she’ll go get some more if you ask. Or, even better, you and I can take a walk to the nearest market. Call it the next stage in your recovery.”

“No, Mack, you don’t understand. There were twelve eggs in here yesterday. I haven’t eaten any. Have you?”

He shook his head, bemused by her overreaction to a few bloody eggs.

“And Lizzie couldn’t have gotten through twelve eggs in as many hours.” She fisted her hair. “Where are they?”

“Hey now.” Mack got to his feet and pulled her into his arms. Her entire body trembled, her reaction completely disproportionate to the issue at hand. “What’s going on, Red? It’s just a few eggs. Nothing to get worked up over.”

She stared at him, her pupils dilated and her skin pale.

“But it’s something else I thought was there, but isn’t. On top of everything else. The tapping, the missing pebbles, some of my things turning up in strange places.” She fisted her hair again. “I didn’t tell you this, but when we got back from the deli the other day, I found my snow globe—you know, one of those things you shake and it snows. Papa bought it for me years ago on one of his trips, and I always keep it on my dresser. Well, I found it smashed and carelessly tossed in the bin inside my bathroom. I don’t remember breaking it.”

“Maybe Lizzie did when she was cleaning your room.”

She shook her head. “I asked her about it, and she said she hadn’t.”

Mack sighed and rubbed up and down her arms. “I’m no doctor, Red, but if I had to guess, I’d say that your brain is so busy processing all the progress you’ve made that you’ve become a bit forgetful with things that don’t really matter. Once, on a trip home after a particularly difficult tour in Afghanistan, I could have sworn I bought a twelve-pack of beer on a trip to the supermarket. I drank pretty heavily back then. It was a way to silence the voices in my head. Anyway, when I went to the fridge that night, they weren’t there. Guess where I found them? In the oven. Good thing it wasn’t switched on.”

“Really?”

Hope lit up her eyes, and his chest tightened for her, and for him. He recalled that time with such clarity. He and Clara had laughed about it, but later that night, lying in bed, it had crossed his mind that he was going crazy. Several tours in war-torn nations where he’d witnessed such devastation had to take their toll in the end.

On his next trip downrange, ISIS had taken him and changed the course of his life forever.

He forced his attention back to the present and to the woman standing before him, willing him to convince her she wasn’t losing her mind.

“Really.”

She tugged on her bottom lip, drawing his eye. Damn, he wanted to kiss her again. That single taste had jump-started his libido and reminded him how addictive the taste of a woman was.

“But that still means we haven’t got eggs for your cake,” she stated. “I’ll ask Lizzie to go to the store. I’m not feeling up to attempting a trip out myself.”

As she moved off, she knocked a jar of flour to the floor. The jar smashed, and glass went everywhere, sending plumes of flour shooting into the air.

“Oh, shit.”

“Stay there,” Mack ordered. “Where’s your dustpan and brush?”

“My what?”

“Your dustpan. You know, a little handheld brush and a small… scoop thing to sweep the mess into.”

She sniggered. “Oh, I know what you mean.” She pointed to a cupboard beneath the sink. “In there.”

Mack picked his way through the broken glass and flour. Sure enough, she had what he needed, and within a minute, he had the worst of the mess cleared away. Walking over to her kitchen bin, he pressed the pedal—and stopped.

“Uh, Honor.”

“Yeah?”

“I found the eggs.”

She came to stand next to him and stared into the bin at the pile of eggs. Each one was smashed, the carton they came in haphazardly tossed on top.

“How?”

“Do you remember breaking them?” he asked.

“No.” She gazed up at him, and that look was back in her eyes, the panicked, shaken one. “Could I really have smashed them and not remember? Just like I smashed the snow globe and did all those other things?”

Mack tossed in the broken glass and closed the lid, then wrapped his arms around her. “I think we should talk to Lizzie.”

Honor tipped her head back. “You think Lizzie did this?”

“I’m not saying that. But apart from us, she’s the only other person in the house, so if only for elimination purposes, we should speak with her.”

“Okay,” Honor said. “I’ll talk to her. It’ll be better coming from me.”