Page 49 of Serve ’N’ Protect

In her sleep, she rested her hand on his chest. A lock of hair fell across her face. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he rubbed the silky strands between his thumb and forefinger before tucking it behind her ear.

He didn’t have enough fingers on both hands to count all the reasons why starting something up with her was a bad idea. Those reasons kept stacking up higher and higher to the point where he couldn’t see over them.

What he needed was to focus on something else, like solving his own attempted murder, but with no leads to follow, he was shit outta luck. His thoughts automatically returned to the burglary.

Cassidy probably didn’t see herself as being strong, but he did. She’d been shot at and punched in the face and hadn’t shed a single tear. On top of all the other things he admired and liked about her, she was one gutsy woman.

Given that her laptop had been stolen, it seemed unlikely the incident had anything to do with who was trying to kill him. Not for the first time, though, he wondered why the burglar hadn’t taken her wallet, too. Maybe he would have if he hadn’t been interrupted when Cassidy had come down the stairs or by him and Ghost breaking through the window. That all made sense. But her purse had been right there on the counter in plain sight. Easy cash was the first thing a burglar would focus on.

No matter how many times he reviewed the evidence, nothing locked into place in a way that gave him peace of mind. He could easily have assigned blame for his unease on the fact that he was still on red alert and would remain in that condition until his own attacker was caught.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was at play here.

Chapter Seventeen

Hammering and voices woke Cassidy. The room was bright—too bright to be early morning. She squinted then hissed in a breath as the goose egg on her cheekbone made itself known.

Touching her face gingerly, she confirmed the bruise was bigger now and swollen. She’d have to dig out some makeup to cover what would likely be fifty shades of purple. Now, if she could only hide from her family so they didn’t get a glimpse of it. Otherwise, she’d be subjected to nonstop interrogation over how she’d gotten it. They’d only try to talk her into selling her house and moving back home. Not. Independence was important to her, as was getting back on her own two feet. Literally, and not without her third foot—the damned cane.

Her eyes flew open as she caught sight of the clock. It was one in the afternoon. She’d slept the entire morning away.

The bed beside her was empty, as was the floor. No Markus and no Ghost. After tying her robe around her waist, she went to the window. Markus stood on her porch, looking yummy in snug black jeans and—

What the—?

Two trucks were parked at the curb, one belonging to a window repair company and the other to a security systems firm.

She became dizzy as virtual dollar signs flew from her meager bank account. This couldn’t be happening.

Repairing the window was a basic necessity, but a security system was most definitely not in her budget, even after last night. It was financially impossible.

Annoyance at Markus’s presumption pushed her to clump quicker down the stairs than was prudent. She’d thank him for whatever miracle he’d performed in getting the window repair guys to the house so quickly, but he should have consulted her before calling a security company.

After shrugging into her jacket, she went outside and hobbled across the lawn, wishing she could move faster and hoping to intervene before any pricy gadgets were installed in her house.

Markus stood by the broken railing, supervising the installation of new glass in the empty space that used to be a window. Another man busied himself screwing something on the siding immediately adjacent to the front door.

Ghost bounded off the porch, greeting her with a happy smile and a tail wag. “Morning, Ghost.” A quick pat on the dog’s head and she beelined for Markus, readying to give him a big chunk of her mind.

His face was obscured by dark sunglasses and the shadow cast by the brim of his ball cap. The jacket he wore made his broad shoulders even broader, not that she was checking out his amazing body or anything along the lines of lusting after the guy. Certainly not that.

At her approach, he turned and smiled. “Morning.” Beneath the glasses, she glimpsed his eyes dipping to take in her bruised cheek and his jaw went rigid. “How’s your cheek?”

Ignoring him, she lit into the man working at the door. “Whatever you’re doing, stop. I didn’t order a security system, and I can’t afford to pay for one.”

The man stopped what he was doing, glancing from her to Markus, which only ticked her off more. Clearly, he didn’t know who actually owned this house.

“Have you looked in the mirror this morning?” Markus whipped off his glasses, frowning. “You can’t afford not to.”

She parked her fists on her hips, her cane dangling off the ground. The annoyance she’d been experiencing compounded by the second, as the man working at her door decided to ignore her and went back to doing whatever it was he’d been doing. “I only have one client at the moment and right now I can’t even manage that job. My priority is a new laptop, not an alarm system.”

Ghost sat between them, flicking his ears back and forth and making upset, mewling little noises that were more in sync with a cat than a dog.

“Cassidy.” Gently, Markus took her arm, leading her to the far side of the porch. Only then did she glimpse the other team of workmen measuring the opening of John’s broken window. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. Consider this a loan until you get back on your feet. As for the laptop, one is being delivered here later this afternoon.” She opened her mouth to object when he held up a hand. “Consider that a loan, too.”

Loans. Just what she needed, to owe more people money. The mortgage on her Craftsman alone had about tapped her savings dry.

Every shred of her common sense was at war. After being burglarized and attacked, a security system might be the only way she’d ever get another good night’s sleep in her own home. But money was tight. And another thing…