“I know. You look great, Marcus.” Her smile was forced and didn’t reach her eyes.
“There’s a but there somewhere …”
“It’s me and my commitment issues, which has to do with my daddy issues.” She glanced at him. “And it has nothing to do with your age. I want to be clear about that.”
Marcus nodded.
“I know you’ve worked through your baggage, and I’m still working through mine. You saw what havoc I leave behind after a breakup.”
“It’s their problem they’re not man enough to handle you.”
“Are you saying you won’t confront me in public after we’ve broken up and you see me with another man? That scene with Trevor? I don’t care to repeat that.”
“That’s not gonna happen, because I’m going to get to the bottom of what’s keeping you from opening your heart fully to a man. You already said you have daddy issues.”
“Every one of my boyfriends has tried.”
“You’ve never had a SEAL for a boyfriend. We’re good at solving problems.”
“I am not a problem to be solved!” Cindy jumped up from the bar stool and walked to the coffee maker to pick up the carafe.
“That didn’t come out right,” Marcus said with a sigh. He lifted his chin when Cindy held the carafe over his mug and watched the dark brew fill it up. “I’m saying, sugar, we’re tenacious.”
Her brows furrowed as if in deep concentration. He watched her circle the counter and take her seat. “You’ve been through enough heartbreak, Marcus.”
“You think I’m still fragile? Is this the problem here?”
“Also …” She began, clamped her mouth shut, twisting a thought in her head, because Marcus could hear the gears turning, then said, “I don’t know how to say this without coming across bitchy or selfish—”
“Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“I don’t want to compete with her.”
“Her? I don’t … Dianne?”
“Yes.”
“She’s dead, Cin,” Marcus stated flatly.
“Don’t you get it?” She sprung up from her chair again, but this time, she started pacing. “It’s hard to compete with a dead spouse. It wasn’t your choice to leave her.”
“Dianne did kick me out of the house.”
“That’s not what I mean. She died and Izzy told me you and Dianne had planned on reconciling, but then you cheated on her.”
This conversation wasn’t going the way he planned. “Cindy, take a seat.”
“I can’t, I’m too fizzy.”
“Fizzy?”
“My stalker … what almost happened between us—”
“And it’s still going to happen, but before we can move forward you have to let me start from the beginning.” At her pained look, he added, “I promise to keep it as short as possible.”
“Marcus—”
“I married Dianne because she got pregnant.”
Cindy’s eyes widened. She immediately dropped to her seat, eyes riveted on him.
“I wish I could say we were young and stupid. No, I was twenty-six and had been a SEAL for five years. Dianne wasn’t even my girlfriend. Not in the real sense. We’d hook up when I was in town. We weren’t exclusive and yes, Adam was mine. I insisted on a paternity test.”
“And you married her.”
“Thought it was the right thing to do. My son would get my benefits if anything happened to me.”
“Did you love her?”
Now there was a thought, how could he describe his relationship with his deceased wife? “I did, but it wasn’t the kind of heart-racing, can’t-sleep-at-night and thinking-about-the-girl kind of love.”
“Are you saying you’ve had that kind of love before?” There was a sharpness in her tone that made him smile.
“Sarabeth back in high school.”
“I hate Sarabeth from high school,” Cindy grumbled.
Marcus laughed, the tightness in his chest eased and he felt he could do this. Talk about Dianne and his kids. Cindy deserved to know. “Hold that thought. I’ll come back to that point. Anyway, I loved Dianne, don’t get me wrong. She was a good mother. She gave me Joe and Adam.”
“How old were they?”
“Adam was twelve, Joe was ten. I couldn’t ask for better kids. Didn’t nearly spend enough time with them as a father should have.”
His chest constricted.
Fuck.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Cindy said gently, reaching out and touching him on the arm.
He put his hand over hers, gripping it tight. “I’m gonna be the man in your life. Get it in your head that you deserve to know everything about me so that heart of yours will feel safe.”
Cindy swallowed. “The press had a field day when they found out about your affair.”
“Ahh.” He took a sip of his coffee. He knew this would come up. Better now than later. “It was the biggest regret of my life, my moment of weakness. Dianne and I had been separated for close to a year when my affair with Ally started.”
Allison Tierney was the former chief of staff of the vice president and had operational knowledge of the mission which she had leaked to the terrorists in exchange for favors for Exetron Oil’s operation in Africa. The public was outraged and a senate committee hearing ensued. Allison and the CEO of Exetron Oil were charged with treason.
When they were convicted, Marcus felt little satisfaction because it did not bring back his team. Dianne and his sons were still dead.
“It took almost a year with a therapist before I knew, unequivocally, that I had not caused the death of my men and my family.”
“It must be hard,” Cindy whispered. “Living with that guilt for so long.”
“It was.” Marcus had lived with survivor’s guilt for three years, and when the truth came to light, almost a year and a half would pass before he accepted that he deserved some happy.
That happiness was sitting right in front of him. If only she’d give him the chance.
“I’d give my life in a heartbeat just so my sons, Dianne, and my team would live. It was hard wrestling with that thought, but I didn’t die that day for a reason. I was meant to survive it. I know that now, and I’ll be damned if I waste that chance that I was given. There’s no time for regrets, Cindy. Life’s too short for that.”
“That’s what my gram said.”
“Your gram was a wise woman.”
He was feeling raw but, in a way, lighter. He hadn’t spoken about this loss to anyone except his therapist and Drake. He raised his hand and cupped her jaw. “I’m ready for a clean slate, Cin, and I want it to be with you.”
“I’m still not seeing this.”
He lowered his hand. “I’m going too fast?”
She nodded. “It’s not you.”
“Don’t make—”
“It’s. Not. You.” She glared at him.
“Ooookay.”
“I feel like I need a waiting period. I just broke up with Trevor and now I’m falling into another relationship with you.” She threw up her hands. “I’m doing a bad job explaining this.”
“Maybe it doesn’t need to be explained.”
“Marcus! You’re not helping!”
“We’re attracted to each other. Didn’t we prove it this morning?”
“You don’t get it.” Her mouth flattened in annoyance. “I need to be just me. You know what I mean? Cindy, without a man. Cindy who needs to be single.”
Scratching the day-old scruff of his jaw, he said, “You don’t have to overanalyze this. I’m not going to rush you into anything. Wasn’t I the one who slowed us down earlier?”
“You did.” Her eyes twinkled. “That was a very mature thing to do.”
“Was that a jab at this old man, sugar?”
“You’re not old. You don’t look your age.”
Marcus winced. “Don’t try to salvage my feelings. You’re making it worse.” He stared at his plate. “Food got cold.”
&n
bsp; “I can heat it up.” She got up to take his plate, but Marcus snatched it away. “Cindy. Chill. Let’s do one thing, shall we?”
“What?”
“I think you try to do a lot for others to keep focus off you. With the focus off of you, you don’t feel the need to open up. Am I right?”
“Now you’re the expert on psychoanalyzing.”
“Can say I have the experience, right?”
“Marcus … I—”
Loud voices erupted outside. It sounded like two women arguing with each other.
“Good Lord, it’s a Saturday morning,” Cindy grumbled as she marched toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Rescuing Mrs. Jung and her kimchi from the wrath of our neighbors.”
What the hell?
Chapter 7
“Pack up your stinky crap, get back on the boat, and return to whatever hole you crawled out from.”
A tiny woman with a mane of silver-blond hair squared up to a giant Asian woman who was even taller than Cindy’s five-nine.
The blonde was Angela Tilley, Danny’s mother. Young looking for having a son close to Cindy’s age, her svelte figure belied the autoimmune disease consuming her. According to Danny, his mom got stricken with fibromyalgia a few years back, and had a recent flare-up. However, right now facing up against their neighbor, Mrs. Jung—the purveyor of the pungent stench that reeked across Sunny Ridge subdivision—she looked as feisty as a cat hopped up on caffeine.
“It’s good for you, you should try it,” Mrs Jung quipped. She was wearing a red-stained apron that bore the name of a commercial vinegar product to protect her clothing. As far as Cindy recalled, she never remembered her Korean neighbor without an apron, as though she spent her entire waking moment in a kitchen making kimchi. Staring at Angela, Mrs. Jung looked as she always did with her smooth porcelain skin stretched over chubby cheeks, her almond-shaped eyes curved like upside-down half-moons. All this was accentuated by the gleaming black hair that was held away from her face by an elastic hair tie and a headband. Her hair was too short to be held in a respectable ponytail and it stuck like a stub behind her head.
“It’s awful smelling,” Angela retorted. “Do you even have a license?”
Time for Cindy to step in. “All right, ladies. Let’s calm down.” She stood to the side of the two battling women, kinda like a referee between two boxers, or in this case, David and Goliath.
“Try and calm down when you want to work in your yard but you can’t because Hulk-zila here had to air out her kimchi,” Angela griped. “Didn’t you get a notice from the neighborhood already?”
“They gave her an allowance,” Cindy explained. “They’ve inspected Mrs. Jung’s license and it’s valid.” Her kimchi-making neighbor supplied the popular fermented cabbage for Giant-K, the bustling Asian supermarket in the area.
“I will buy the kimchi refrigerator next month,” Mrs. Jung said. “I need to make this batch so I can pay for it.”
“A month.” Angela’s face grimaced. “We have to put up with this smell for another month.”
“I’m sorry.” Mrs. Jung was looking at Cindy when she said this. “Just this last one and I don’t have to leave it outside anymore.” Her dark eyes looked past Cindy’s shoulder and a smile split the Asian woman’s face. “New man?”
“A friend.” Marcus stepped forward, extending his arm, he winked at Mrs. Jung. “For now. Name’s Marcus.”
“Call me Mrs. Jung or Jung. First name is too hard for whiteys to say.”
“Whitey?” Marcus’s laugh sounded more like a choke.
“That’s reverse racism for you.” Danny’s mother stepped forward and insinuated herself between Mrs. Jung and Marcus. “I’m Angela.” It also didn’t escape Cindy that she leaned forward, revealing her braless state, a lot of cleavage and the fact that she was flirting with Marcus.
Mrs. Jung rolled her eyes and cocked her head at the two. Nope, Cindy wasn’t imagining things. It also occurred to her that Angela was closer to Marcus’s age than she was. As the troubled thoughts whirled in her mind, she missed Marcus’s response, but before she could get back into the moment, he was by her side.
“You’re together?” A pinched look came over Angela’s face.
“Well—” Cindy began.
Marcus grabbed her hand. “We will be. As soon as I convince this lady here to give me a chance.”
Furious heat crept up her face, whether from his swoony statement or mortification, Cindy wasn’t sure.
She leaned into Marcus. “How gentlemanly of you to declare your intent, dahlin’.” Her fingers barely caught flesh, but she pinched his muscles so viciously, Marcus had to disguise his reaction with a cough.
“Well, I’m surprised, dah-lin,” Angela responded with the sweetness of a viper. “I thought you and my boy, Danny, were finally getting together.”
The man beside her stiffened. “Danny?” Marcus growled.
And as the worst timings went, Angela’s son decided to take that moment to make an appearance.
“Hey, Mrs. J, Mom here giving you trouble?” Danny wasn’t looking at her and Marcus, his attention was riveted on his mother and Mrs. Jung.
“No trouble,” their Korean neighbor replied. “Cindy explained I have the permits and the smell won’t be for much longer.”
“See, Mom? No need to get your blood pressure up.” Danny rested his hands on his mother’s shoulders, massaging them. “Let’s give Mrs. J some peace and quiet to do her business, yeah?”
Angela looked at Marcus as if in conciliation. “Tsk. Kids nowadays. No loyalties.”
Marcus didn’t say anything.
“Well, I’ll head on back then since I’m outnumbered,” Danny’s mother said with a sniff, looking at Cindy. “I might need your help with them elderberry jams. Getting a bunch soon.” She smiled at Marcus. “I would love for you to come over.”
“Wherever Cindy goes, I go.”
A flash of displeasure crossed Danny’s face, but it was quickly gone.
“Now, that’s sweet,” Angela gushed. She shot Cindy a “just-between-us-girls” look. “Lucky girl.” Although with the way she delivered that statement it was more a barb than a compliment.
Angela sashayed away—no sign of her ailment in evidence—and just when she was out of earshot, Danny smiled crookedly at Marcus. “You have to forgive my mom, she loves drama.”
“Not a problem,” Marcus replied.
Danny’s gaze dropped to Cindy. “You doing okay, Scarlett?”
At the endearment, she felt a blast of tension from the man beside her.
Why me?
“I’m okay, I suppose.”
Her neighbor’s brows drew together. “Ma said the police were in front of your house yesterday. Everything all right?”
Cindy glanced up at Marcus, but he gave a shake of his head at the same time squeezed her hand. Because of the nature of the break-in, the detectives decided to keep the investigation under wraps to prevent spooking the perpetrators.
“False alarm. Thought I had a break in.”
“I wished you had given me a call,” Danny said. “I was out with friends last night but I would have come home if you needed me.”
“She had me, so she’s covered.” Marcus delivered that statement smoothly, but it didn’t take a genius to know what he was up to.
“Come on, sugar.” He tugged her toward the house. They said goodbye to Mrs. Jung, who’d been observing the exchange with the flagrant interest of a nosy neighbor.
“Hold on, Scarlett,” Danny called.
Was it her imagination or did Marcus growl?
Danny jogged the few steps to close the distance between them. This time, there was no trace of her friendly neighbor, and Cindy was afraid he was going to throw down.
“I need to talk to her, privately,” Danny informed the man beside her.
Marcus released her hand. “Go ahead. I’ll just stay right here.” Right here for the former SEAL,
was standing right where he was and crossing his arms over his chest.
Cindy refused to let Danny touch her and walked ahead instead of having him put his hand on the small of her back like he tried to do. There was enough testosterone hanging in the cloying tension of the kimchi-induced atmosphere.
When they were enough of a distance from the man scowling at them, she turned to face her neighbor. Her hands hugging her biceps, scowling at Danny and letting him know she didn’t appreciate the conflict he’d created.
It annoyed her even more when he stared at her with disapproval. She was so sick of being judged. “What, Danny?” Cindy prompted when he didn’t say anything.
“Is it wise to jump into another relationship? And that man … isn’t he old enough—”
“Don’t say it. You see damn well he isn’t,” Cindy cut him off. “He’s just more mature than the men I used to date.”
“Is this what you’re trying for now? Mature men?”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Cindy’s voice rasped as she controlled the decibels in her voice. “Would you please dial down the concerned-brother attitude. You like drama as much as your mother.”
“I don’t want to be a concerned brother. You know I want something more.”
“And I told you it’s not possible. Please respect that. I won’t have you making Marcus uncomfortable. He’s been my friend for years and we’re not in a relationship yet. Not that I need to explain myself to you.”
A brow rose. “Oh, I thought you met him at RightSpark.”
“I’ve disabled my account.”
“You deleted it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Stop with all the questions. It’s annoying.”
His gaze softened. “Just concerned, Scar.”
“And stop with the nicknames.”
“Now that, I can’t promise, but I’ll stop badgering you on your love life.”
Danny had this passive-aggressive nature as far as she was concerned. Maybe he wasn’t much of a pursuer. With his looks, she imagined he wouldn’t have a problem with the ladies. He appeared to be devoted to his mother. That was nice, if not a bit weird for a man his age. He was definitely not the sulky type like Trevor when he didn’t get his way, and not the steamroller type as Marcus was turning out to be.
Guarding Cindy (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) Page 5
