The Guardian
“I’d rather be told to drink milk. Orange juice is nearly as bad as grapefruit juice.”
“Since it’s your birthday . . . ” The glass was removed and was replaced with one of milk. “Better?”
“Much. Sorry, I don’t mean to be so cranky.”
“Sure you do. It’s your birthday. It’s already started off as a bad day.”
“Please don’t be cheerful. It’s bad for my digestion.”
He laughed.
She bit into her toast. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Already did. I fixed the guys breakfast.”
“Well, I hope you’re still hungry. If I eat all of this I won’t be able to move.”
“It’s a competitive advantage to have my opponent slow on her feet.”
“Well, I think—”
He cut her off with a raised hand. “Yes, Craig.”
Shari recognized that distant look as his attention shifted in an instant to work. He was pushing back his chair and heading to the door moments later. “Shari, stay here in the kitchen. Luke will be joining you.”
She felt an intense wave of panic. Something was wrong. Her attention immediately swung to windows and she shoved back her chair and moved to the other end of the kitchen away from them. Marcus had said to stay in the kitchen. She wished he would have said for her to go upstairs.
Was someone out here? The shooter?
Josh came into the kitchen carrying his tennis shoes. “Shari, can you—” He saw her face. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Marcus just got called; he left in a hurry.”
There was a heavy pause as they both considered the implications. Josh reached for a chair, swung it around. He pulled on his shoes with his good hand. “Can you tie my shoelaces?”
“Sure.”
“Not knots like you did last time.”
He was trying to distract her as well as get ready in case they had to move. She forced herself to smile back. “Me?”
“Yes, you.”
She hurriedly tied neat bows.
“Thanks. I’ll go see—”
She caught his arm. “No. Stay here.”
They heard the front door open. “Miss Hanford?”
“In the kitchen, Luke.”
He joined them and held up his hand to stop the questions. “There was a traffic accident up the road. You’ll be hearing the police sirens soon.”
“Marcus didn’t react to an accident.”
“Accidents make a good diversion. We’re sweeping the grounds as a precaution. Go ahead and get ready to head into town. We’re comfortable this was simply a minor traffic accident.”
“You’re sure?”
“Mrs. Garrett clipped her cousin Joe’s truck. We’ve known both of them for years. This is nothing more serious than a failure-to-stop-in-time fender bender.”
But it was a reminder of why she was here. The last time she had gone out in public she had put her family at risk, and Marcus had been shot. “Maybe I shouldn’t go—”
Josh settled his hands on her shoulders. “It will do you good to get out of the house for a while. Go finish getting ready. You’re not staying behind because of this.”
She knew that tone. She wouldn’t be winning this discussion.
He turned her toward the door. “It’s your birthday. You’re getting out of the house.”
Shari went upstairs to finish getting dressed. She was looking forward to the day. Her mom was just finishing her makeup. “Good morning, honey. Happy birthday.”
Shari stopped to give her a hug. “Thanks, Mom.”
Her mom gave her a knowing smile. “Have a good time today.”
Shari couldn’t help the small blush. “I will.”
When she went downstairs half an hour later carrying her gym bag, Marcus stood by the front door talking with Josh. He held out his hand when he saw her. “Ready?”
“Yes.”
He stopped her at the door after Josh had stepped out on the porch. “If something doesn’t feel right, what do you do?”
“Press the panic button.”
“Before you try and figure out what it is that bothers you.”
“I remember.”
“Good. You can leave the rest of the worrying to me. Luke and I have it covered. Deal?”
She squeezed his hand. “Deal.”
“Then let’s get out of here.”
She followed him around the house to the driveway.
“You’re in front with me,” Marcus directed. “Josh and Luke are in the back.”
It felt strange being back in a car. Marcus noticed her tension as they drove along the winding roads toward town. “We’re fine. That’s Craig in the truck in front of us.”
The trip took only ten minutes. Marcus took Josh and Luke to the hospital first, then drove on to the gym. He waited until Craig parked, got out and scanned the area, then signaled it was clear before he shut off the engine. “We’ll go in the back entrance. Stay close.”
Shari nodded. He circled the car and opened her door.
* * *
Marcus paused on the basketball court when Shari joined him from the women’s locker room. She had dressed in black shorts and a burgundy T-shirt. Her tennis shoes were so white they had to be brand new. She had pulled her hair back in a ponytail and it bounced as she walked.
“We’ve got the court to ourselves?”
“For the next hour and an half.”
“I wondered.” She set her bag down on the bleachers next to his and crossed the gym floor to join him.
“This is a basketball.” He bounced it to make his point.
She bit back a quick grin. “I think I remember that part.”
“Remember free throws?”
“Just give me the ball.”
He tossed it to her and she caught it with a clean slap.
She dribbled twice, then sent it in a clean arc toward the hoop. It was short, coming off the front of the rim, but her shot was good form. Marcus scooped the ball up and with one hand tossed it back to her. “You’ve played before.”
“Ages ago.”
She set herself, dribbled twice, and sent up another free throw that hit the backboard and went slightly right.
By the time he had fed her back the ball a dozen times, she had found the basket. “You’re a bit too much of a perfectionist. You wince every time you miss.”
“I bet you rarely miss free throws.”
“Not often,” Marcus agreed, “but then I rarely get to shoot them. The family doesn’t often call fouls.”
“Enough shooting. I want to burn some energy. Let’s actually play.”
“One-on-one?”
“You don’t play girls?”
“Just making sure your ego can handle getting beat.” He tossed her the ball.
He was between her and the basket and she came right at him, cutting right as soon as he committed himself to come toward her. No one would mistake the determination on her face. He moved to cut her off and she spun back out to the top of the key. It was a good percentage shot, and she took it, sending up an arc to the basket.
He blocked her shot.
“I see you don’t give freebies.” She had chased down the ball first, stood dribbling just outside the three-point line.
“Do you want one?”
“Not particularly.”
She came in on the baseline, her shot missed, and Marcus recovered it. The basketball was warm, rough in his hand. His first shot hit nothing but net. “What do you want to play to?”
“Twenty-one.”
He tried to purposely miss often enough to give her a chance.
“You could at least cheat without making it obvious,” she remarked without heat, having chased down one of his misses.
Her shirt was damp with sweat, her breathing rapid. “Want to take a break?”
“Not till the game is over.”
He was three baskets away from putting the game away; there was no use leaving he
r in misery. He put up the next three shots as soon as he touched the ball, made sure they were flawless, hitting nothing but net.
She stood back with her hands on her hips and watched the last one go in. “Ouch.”
“I’ve been playing a long time,” he commiserated.
“I would have never guessed,” she replied dryly. She sat down on the bench, picked up a towel, and offered him one.
He took a seat beside her, watching her mop her face. “Thanks for playing. You’re a good sport.”
“I enjoyed it.” She tipped her head to glance at him. “Even if you are a poor winner.”
“A what?” he asked, laughing.
“You should be celebrating the victory. You finally beat me at something.”
“Since it’s your birthday, I’m being kind. I’ll wait to gloat until later.”
“Thanks.”
He glanced at the clock on the wall. “We’ve got another half hour before we pick up Josh.”
“Good, I can take a shower.”
He nudged her white shoes. “Those need breaking in.”
She raised one foot. “I bought them because I had this great New Year’s resolution to start running. You can tell how far that idea got.”
“You need a running partner to get you in the habit. I go most days I’m home to jog the hiking trails on Roosevelt Island.”
“Really?”
“I could probably be talked into buying the coffee if you’d like to join me.”
“Run? Early in the morning?”
He buried a grin. “Yes.”
“That’s brutal.”
“You might enjoy it.”
“Or I can decide I won’t and not bother to try.”
“Somehow that doesn’t sound like you.”
“That’s exactly how Josh got me to try skydiving. You’ll have to try another tactic.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll come up with one.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to keep asking until I agree?”
“Who? Me?”
She got up with a laugh and tossed her towel at him. “I’m going to go take that shower.”
* * *
Shari came out of the locker room, shuffling her gym bag, towel, and tennis shoes and trying to get everything to fit inside the bag. She collided with Marcus, saw the gun in his hand, and froze.
“What happened?” He was propelling her back down the hall and toward the alcove.
“I’m fine.” She stammered the words because it was obvious something was wrong. Marcus was tense, terse, and hustling her out of the hallway.
“Then why—” His eyes closed and he took a deep breath, then he shook his head and reached around the gym bag to the pager clipped on her belt. He shut off the panic button. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—”
He kissed her hard, stopping the apology.
Shari went from being panic stricken to being unable to think bliss in the blink of an eye. This was absolutely heaven. She felt her heart leap in delight and recognized joy. Her hands came up to curl around his forearms and she leaned in against him.
He pulled back half an inch to breathe again. “I do not mind false alarms. Don’t get the wrong idea. I was just too far away.”
She blinked, still rolling with the shock of that delightful, unexpected kiss. He had such alive brown eyes; she found them absolutely fascinating. She could feel him breathing. She should be feeling embarrassed, but being held in the shelter of his arms was absolutely wonderful. She looked ruefully at the fact but for the gym bag squashed between them, there was no space separating them. She could feel the blush starting. “You’re not anymore.”
He looked at her for a moment, then dropped the gym bag to the floor. “Come here,” he said softly. He gave her a moment to decide and then pulled her close.
This kiss lasted long enough for her to close her eyes and get lost in the wonder of it.
Marcus ended the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. She felt his silent chuckle. “Should I apologize, or just say happy birthday?”
“It is my birthday.”
They stood that way, silent, sharing the moment. Shari had no desire at all to come back to reality and deal with what had just happened.
He finally eased back half a step. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time, but I apologize for the timing, and the circumstances.”
He was apologizing. She wanted to slap him for that, but he sounded so chagrined she decided to be magnanimous and not take it like the insult it felt like. She glanced around at the potted plants and empty chairs in the alcove. “A public place. You could have chosen worse. And Marcus . . . I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Get that look off your face. I enjoyed kissing you tremendously, and if you keeping scowling at me I’m going to do it again.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, gave her a brief hug, and tugged her ponytail. “And I’m grateful you’ll keep this quiet. I’m the one with the active family grapevine.”
She relaxed. “Come on—I top that. I’ve got Mom. Your family is still learning compared to her.”
“I’ll grant you that one.” He turned her toward the hallway. “We need to go meet Josh or he is going to be worried.”
She didn’t want this moment to end. “Can we talk tonight?”
“Are you going to pretend not to be tired at midnight?”
“I haven’t been hiding the yawns,” she said, chagrined.
He gave a small smile as he brushed back her bangs. “Not very well.”
“Then I’ll take a nap.”
He laughed. “If you’re up, we’ll talk,” he promised, to her delight.
Chapter Thirteen
They picked up Josh and Luke at the hospital. Shari was grateful when Marcus engaged Josh in a conversation about how the physical therapy had gone, what the schedule was for the next week. She wasn’t sure she could hold a coherent conversation at the moment.
She thought about the kiss, absently touched her lip. Just thinking about it made her heart warm. What had it meant to Marcus? He had been reacting to the emotions of the moment; she had felt that in the kiss. But it went a lot deeper as a possibility of what might come. The ride back to the house was too short; she needed time to think before she accidentally said the wrong thing. Would he feel she was ducking him if she retreated upstairs for a while? At least she had a powerful distraction to get her through her first birthday without her father and Carl.
Marcus pulled around the house and parked.
Josh and Luke got out of the car.
“Shari.” Marcus paused her as she would have opened the car door. “Hold on a second.”
She looked over at him and was puzzled as he reached around to the backseat, and retrieved a small white bakery box.
“For you.” He said simply, holding it out. He quirked a smile. “Happy birthday.”
She opened it and grinned when she saw it. He had gotten her a cupcake. “How did you know?” She shook her head. “Mom.”
“Yes.”
She lifted it from the box, peeling back the wrapper. “Like a bite?”
“This one’s yours. I sampled as she baked.”
She laughed as she got icing on her fingers. “This is great.”
He waited until she finished, then reached over and wiped away a spot of icing she had missed at the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “I know you would have preferred to skip recognition of this day. I know how you miss your dad and Carl, but you need to let those around you celebrate. It helps them have something positive to do.”
“What did you guys do?”
He came around and opened her car door, offered his hand.
“Marcus?”
“I figured you should have at least a small warning.”
He walked with her to the house, took her gym bag when they reached the porch, and reached around her to open the door for her.
“Surprise!”
/> Marcus had given her about a minute to adjust and prepare, but it would have been hard to prepare for this no matter how much time she had—the streamers, the balloons, the hand drawn signs done in colorful markers. The dining room table had been set out with a buffet of finger foods. The guys from the security details, those off duty, had joined her family. It was like being fifteen again and finding herself the focus of the extended family. “How did you—” She just shook her head and laughed. “Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.”
Josh wrapped his good arm around her shoulders. “We had fun.”
Shari let herself be tugged into the room. She grinned as she recognized where all the cartoons from her newspapers had been going. They were intermixed among the streamers. “Cute, Josh.”
“Get yourself a plate. We’ll let you eat while we drown you in presents.”
“Impossible. I can never have too many presents.”
She hugged her mom. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Your dad would have been proud of you today. Enjoy it.”
They had insured it would be impossible not to.
She picked up the first plate and officially opened the party.
Shari was very aware of Marcus through the afternoon, as he slipped in and out of the room, talking on the security net. He had made this possible. She deeply appreciated it.
When Josh insisted, she settled on the couch in the den to open presents. There were videos, and locally made taffy, an engraved watch, and a large puzzle. Small gifts that reflected the circumstances.
Mom had bought her a dress. It was absolutely beautiful. Her gaze caught Marcus’s across the room. She looked down with a blush when she saw his smile.
Josh had gotten her a hand-tooled leather briefcase. It was the gift her dad had been threatening to get her for years. She looked at it for several moments, then reached over and wrapped her arm around Josh’s neck, hugging him. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
With a laugh she let him go. The wrapping paper had bunched beside her on the couch. She reached for the trash bag.
“One more.”
She leaned her head back at Marcus’s words. He was holding out a thick package. It was wrapped in heavy brown shipping paper. She accepted it, curious. “From you?”