Page 50 of Serve ’N’ Protect

It had been less than twelve hours since her window had been broken, although they had to have been here for a while now, which meant Markus had to have been awake for hours. “How did you get all these companies here so quickly?”

He shrugged. “I can be very persuasive.”

“I’ll bet.” She could only imagine the extra money he’d spent to get these guys out here on a moment’s notice, let alone the home delivery of a laptop. Knowing he was right and that it would be futile to argue at this point, she waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Fine.” If he’d set up her account to include expensive 24/7 monitoring, that was something she could always cancel.

Two hours later, both hers and Markus’s windows had been repaired, and she had a brand-spanking-new security system, including a new deadbolt on her kitchen door. They’d tried out the new system and then gotten in a workout, the effects of which had not only loosened her leg muscles but worked off most, if not all, of her residual annoyance at Markus. Ghost lay snoring on the living room rug while Markus worked at the kitchen counter, still reviewing video footage.

He’d insisted on hanging out at her place, saying he was too bored to work alone at John’s house. In reality, she suspected he didn’t want to leave her alone. If she stopped fuming long enough to set aside her dismal financial condition, it really had been thoughtful and sweet of him to go out of his way for her like that. While she’d been sleeping the morning away in a cloud of dreamless bliss, he’d been arranging with no fewer than three companies to clean up her mess.

Measurements in the cookie recipe she’d been reading blurred. The bottle of vanilla extract in her hand shook and all of a sudden she couldn’t breathe. If Markus and Ghost hadn’t come when they did…

Who knows what that burglar would have done to me.

She stood at the counter, drawing in deep, calming breaths and trying not to think about how much her face throbbed.

A year ago, she hadn’t been so lucky. What she ought to be was grateful that she wasn’t lying in a hospital bed again.

As she took more cookie ingredients from the pantry, her stomach growled, and she tore open a bag of chocolate morsels, tossing back a handful. The rich, earthy chocolate melted in her mouth. Not exactly a healthy lunch, but what the heck? After last night, she was entitled to break nutrition protocol.

She licked her lips, swiping off remnants of chocolate and imagining she could still feel the taste and gentleness of Markus’s mouth on hers. The kiss had been brief, and granted, she’d been somewhat in shock at the time, but there was no doubting the effect it had on her. Her toes had curled. Yup, curled.

It had to have been the adrenaline and fear. That combination made people do all kinds of crazy things. That must be why he’d kissed her. Right?

With Markus, she might never know. To say he was emotionally wrapped up tight was an understatement. But beneath it all, he was a good man. Even if the Secret Service wasn’t paying her a thousand bucks a week to watch over him while he recuperated, she would have done it anyway because she’d liked Markus from the start. That was, after she’d gotten over thinking he might be a serial killer.

With no laptop, she was already well into baking what would be nearly a dozen varieties of cookies. Leaning over, she pulled a tray from the oven, inhaling the warm smells of vanilla, chocolate, and brown sugar as she set the tray on a rack to cool. She turned to find Markus watching her—specifically, her backside. “Are you looking at my ass?”

“Yes,” he admitted with a straight face. “From a purely physiological standpoint. Based on your height and body type, you should have more muscle back there. We’ll have to work on that, too.” He dug into an open bag of butterscotch chips and popped some into his mouth. “How many different kinds of chips do you need?” He indicated the row of dark and white chocolate, butterscotch, cinnamon, and caramel chips. “I didn’t even know there were so many kinds.”

She smiled at the look of horror on his handsome face. “Did you know there are more than fifteen different kinds of cookie chips available on the market?”

He grimaced, as if the thought alone made him nauseous. “There’s enough sugar here to keep the entire American Dentistry Association in business for a decade and give the anti-carb world a coronary.”

“I know, but it’s only once a year.” Good thing, what with her bank account at an all-time low. “Good chocolate is expensive, so I probably should have taken a year off from Christmas Cookie Week.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I could never disappoint all the kids. The look of joy on their little faces is totally worth it.” She retrieved the first basket of cookies she’d made, already wrapped in red cellophane and tied off with a big green bow. “This batch is for you.”

He peered through the cellophane. “I don’t eat coo—”

At first, he only stared, his face a blank mask. Then his expression turned into an ever-changing kaleidoscope of emotions.

His brows bunched and his forehead creased. For a moment, she thought he was angry with her at what she’d done. Given what he’d told her about his childhood, she’d only been trying to do something nice for him, but when his jaw clenched and his throat began working, she feared she’d made a mistake. A big one.

…

Markus’s throat clogged with so much he couldn’t verbalize, and he nearly choked.

The basket was filled to the brim with Hershey’s Kisses cookies, the same kind his mother used to make. But that wasn’t what had robbed him of his ability to speak. It was because Cassidy had remembered what he’d told her then gone out of her way to make these cookies. A tiny gesture on her part, perhaps, but to him… Again, his throat tightened and he had to swallow repeatedly or risk choking on his tongue.

“If you won’t eat them,” she said, reaching for the basket, “I’m sure I can find someone who will.”

“No!” He grabbed the basket. He’d no sooner let her give these cookies to someone else than he’d eat his own foot. “I’ll eat them.”

“Promise?” Cassidy pointed a finger at him. “I know how you feel about carbs, but I don’t want them going to waste.”

“I promise.” To show her he meant business, he tore into the wrapper, grabbed a cookie, and shoved it into his mouth. Chocolate hit his taste buds first, followed closely by brown sugar and vanilla. It had been over thirty years, but they tasted exactly as he remembered. Like heaven. He closed his eyes, smiling as he groaned.