Full Force Fatherhood (11 page)

She only hoped she could do it the justice she should have done it years ago.

Waiting with her cup of coffee, Kelli let her thoughts do their own thing. Minutes went by before the bedroom door opened again. Kelli nearly dropped her cup. Turning without mentally preparing for what she saw next wasn't the best plan.

The mental anchors that held the strings attached to her off-limits growing feelings for the ex-bodyguard dissolved.

The tux did indeed fit.

And boy, did it fit well.

Chapter Fourteen

“That bad, huh?” Mark asked when Kelli couldn't seem to make her words work. She slipped off her stool with no amount of grace and resisted the urge to clear her throat.

Calm down, Kel! He's just a good-looking man in a good-looking suit!

“Bad? No,” she exclaimed with a lot more enthusiasm than she was trying to convey. Her face burned, and she just hoped the dreary day outside helped hide the color that was surely painting her cheeks. “It's no Pretty Princess Day dress, but it definitely works.”

The tux was a classic black one, tailored to his body type. It perfectly highlighted his broad shoulders while presenting his muscles in a way that wasn't showy or vulgar. It made the man beneath the clothes go from handsome to downright sexy.

Kelli hadn't thought she'd ever find a man who made her feel this way again.

Yet here he was, fumbling with his tie, unaware of just how wonderful he looked.

“Here, let me,” she said, walking over and taking hold of the open tie.

“Try and tell me you aren't surprised at the fact that I don't have a clip-on,” he joked as she took both sides of the tie in her hands.

“I plead the Fifth.”

Being so close to him wasn't helping her current frame of mind. She could smell his aftershave— something sharp yet pleasing—without even trying. Her hands bumped against the solidness of his chest.

“So, do you have an outfit picked out for this shindig already?” he asked, eyes straight forward.

“Yes, but it's at the house. I also haven't tried it on since before Grace, so there's no telling how it will actually look.”

“I'm sure you'll look great.”

Kelli smiled at the compliment.

“We'll see. I still need to swing by there to check the job the window guy did on the office. I'm sure the new owners wouldn't like it if I left the house in bad condition.” She paused, and a surge of excitement flooded through her. “Hey! Would you like to see my house?”

Mark raised his brow.

“I have?” he said uncertainly.

She laughed. “No, I mean,
my
house. The new one! Granted, it definitely isn't as big or nice, but I like to think it's cute and cozy.” An odd look crossed the man's face as she finished. One that wasn't wholly bad but gave her pause. Had she overstepped a boundary? She pinned her gaze on finishing his tie. “You don't have to,” she added quickly. “It has nothing to do with Dennis or the fire or anything like that. I just—” She managed a quick look up into his eyes. Their even stare pulled the truth right out from between her lips. “I wanted to share my happiness.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “Sounds cheesy now that I say it.”

The corner of Mark's lips lifted up. He took her hands, paused in midair and gave them a small squeeze.

“I think we both could do with more happiness in our lives.” His voice dipped low as he said it, almost into a whisper. Kelli's mind jumped around as she wondered about the meaning behind his words coupled with the warmth of his skin against hers. Maybe it was her imagination wanting something she probably shouldn't have, but Mark seemed to be moving closer. Changing an already established connection to mean more.

Kelli tilted her head, angling her lips to what she wanted to be so much more than a simple kiss.

But reality decided it wasn't meant to be.

Mark dropped her hands and stepped back. Just like he'd done the night before.

She hoped she hid her hurt.

“Let me get back into some real clothes, and we can head out,” he said, voice back to normal. The smile, however, was gone.

Maybe Kelli
was
just reading into his words.

* * *

H
ER
NEW
HOME
was in Lake Dallas, a charming suburb that was a lot more affordable than some of the others she'd seen, and cute as cute could be. In relation to Lynn's town house, it was about a twenty-minute drive with no traffic—another reason Kelli had loved the location—but it was a good deal farther from Mark's apartment.

The latter point, she realized with a bit of chagrin, was a blemish on an otherwise perfect home, in her eyes.

Wrapped in gray siding, the two-bedroom home featured light hardwood floors and an open floor plan that would keep Grace in her sight from anywhere in the living room or kitchen. It was small, as she'd said to Mark, but for their little family, it fit just right.

“I like it,” Mark said after she'd given him the tour. “It's charming.”

“Ha. That's the polite way to say it
is
small.”

“It's also the polite way to say it's charming,” he countered. They were moving from what would be Grace's bedroom to the kitchen.

“Now, I know it needs a few upgrades and certainly some paint.” Both their eyes cut to the olive green living room walls. “But right now we can live happily with this.”

“When do you start to move in?”

Kelli sighed at that. “Technically, I could do it now, but I booked movers for next week. Apparently I picked a popular time to move.”

“You know, I'm sure I could round up enough men to help get the job done,” he said, trying to be sly. “My ex-job happens to be with a bunch of bodyguards, and my current job is with a bunch of construction workers. Free labor, if you don't mind all the sweaty men.”

Kelli was about to respond with a clever quip—at least, she'd try to make it clever—when Mark's attention dropped to his pocket. His cell phone was doing its vibrating dance. He held up his finger.

“Excuse me a second.” He pulled out the phone and went into the backyard. Apparently he needed privacy, which was fine by Kelli. But it did make her curious as to whom he was on the phone with. Mark had admitted he was single, but that didn't mean he didn't have admirers. Aside from Nikki and Jonathan, she really didn't know if he had a social life.

She surely didn't.

While Mark was on the phone, Kelli did another sweep of the house, trying to picture where everything would go the next week. She wasn't halfway through mentally piecing together the master bedroom when a knock sounded on the front door.

Perplexed and slightly nervous at meeting who was probably a neighbor, she hurried back through the living room and opened the door.

Her stomach dropped.

“Dennis?” She asked, “What are you doing here?”

Dennis, dressed casually with a pair of sunglasses on, didn't smile. Every muscle in Kelli's body tensed. Apart from her Realtor, Lynn and now Mark, no one knew where her new house was. So why in the world was Dennis here now? Had he followed them there?

“I need to tell you something, and you need to listen,” he ground out. Anger was evident in his last four words. It made Kelli step back, trying to soak up the comfort of her new home to offset her growing fear. “You need to stop digging into the past. Drop this story—it isn't one you need to tell.”

“Why?” she asked, voice giving a little. “What's going on? What did Victor really find?” Determination pulsed through her at each question. She was gearing up to ask him everything right then and there.

“Victor's dead, Kelli,” he interrupted with a harsh whisper. It pulled all of the air clear out of her lungs. “He found
nothing
and he still died. And now you want to know what got your husband killed? Why? So the same thing can happen to you
and
your daughter?”

“Don't you
dare
talk about
my
daughter,” she said, fury filling the space left behind in her lungs. She stepped forward, aware that she was two seconds from attacking the man.

“Do you know how easy it was to find this place, Kelli? How long do you think your bodyguards will protect you and your loved ones?” That deflated her a fraction. “Can they even really protect you every minute of every day anyway? Look what happened to Victor. Who's to say it won't happen again?”

“Is that a threat?” she whispered, her confidence draining quickly.

“It's food for thought for the young mother.” He bent his head down to meet her gaze. His voice was dangerously low when he spoke. “Don't go to the dinner tonight. Don't dig anymore. And give me that damn journal.”

Kelli believed in a lot of things. She believed in determination and the power of self-confidence. She also believed that emotions had the absolute power to derail the other two. So Kelli, thinking of Grace and of Victor and Lynn, grabbed her purse from beside the door and pulled the journal from it.

“Don't you ever come here again,” she said, pushing the journal at him.

Dennis took it but didn't smile.

“Hopefully I won't have to.”

Kelli didn't wait for him to get back to his car by the curb before she was running through the house and through the back door. Mark turned at the noise and barely took her in before his entire demeanor changed.

“Let me call you back,” he said into his phone, closing it immediately after. “What's wrong?”

“Dennis just came by,” she blurted out, pointing wildly. “I—I gave him Victor's journal.” Kelli put a hand over her mouth, instantly regretting that decision. Mark grabbed her shoulders, moving her focus back to him.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head and then he was gone, running through the house.

Who's to say it won't happen again?

Kelli hurried inside and grabbed her phone. She dialed Lynn's number and waited for what felt like a lifetime for her to pick up.

“Is Grace with you? Can you see her?” Kelli practically yelled.

“Of course she is and yes,” Lynn answered. Just like Mark, she could read the shift in the woman's mood. “Where else would she be? What's wrong?”

Kelli pulled the phone away and placed it against her chest. She took a deep breath before continuing.

“Lynn, I need to tell you something, but first I want you to promise me you'll stay inside until I get back. Please?”

Lynn, bless her, had known Kelli long enough to trust her vagueness. And to pick up on her fresh fear.

“Okay, I promise.”

Mark came back as she ended her call.

“I should have fought him instead of giving him the journal,” she said without any segue. Mark grabbed her hand, a look of ferocity on his face.

“No, I shouldn't have been in the backyard on the phone. I should have been protecting you.” He looked around them as if he was ready to throw whatever he could get his hands on. Luckily, there wasn't a thing to grab.

“It's not your fault he's a horrible man,” she assured him. “It's not your fault I couldn't let this go. Oh, God, what have I done?” Now she was panicking. “What if Grace or Lynn or
you
get hurt because of the decision
I
made?”

Mark put his free hand behind her neck, tilting her head up. Before her panic could mount into tears, he pressed his lips against hers with such force she nearly lost her balance. The kiss wasn't entirely a kiss, she'd realize later. Like the coffee from before, it served two purposes.

One was to address the elephant in, apparently, both of their rooms. An attraction that had grown through the past few days. A bond that had been established by shared tragedy.

The second purpose was, in the simplest of terms, to focus her. To throw a cup of water in her face. To bring her back to reality.

To remind Kelli she wasn't alone and didn't have to protect everyone by herself.

A lesson she didn't think Mark had learned yet.

Mark ended the short kiss with fire in his eyes.

“It's not
you
who's in the wrong. I promise you we'll nail the guy who is.”

“How?”

“I'm getting my job back.”

Chapter Fifteen

“I want it to be noted
somewhere
that I think this is a bad idea.” Lynn sat at the end of Mark's couch with her arms crossed over her chest, giving the eye to everyone around her. As she still wore her Pretty Princess Day pink dress and matching plastic beaded necklaces, her disapproval was almost humorous. “Heck, it isn't even really an idea, when you get down to it.”

Mark had to agree with her there. His eyes traveled to his bedroom, where Kelli was putting Grace down for her nap.

“My friend at the station said that if we can prove Dennis is a threat, then we'll be getting somewhere,” Nikki chimed in from her spot on a bar stool. Jonathan sat beside, her eating leftover pasta. He nodded.

“Dennis seems to be one of those guys who needs to talk,” he said, careful not to speak with the food in his mouth. “It seems like all you will need to do is just walk up to him and talk. That recorder will do the rest.” Everyone looked down at the little black circle on the coffee table, courtesy of one of Nikki's Orion contacts. Another benefit of Mark being employed as an agent again—Orion and its founder had quite the stash of resources. “When he incriminates himself, then just fall back to me and we'll go straight to the cops.”

Lynn huffed. “So we're going to ignore the many unknowns here?” She turned her gaze to Mark. “What happens if—I don't know—he has a gun or a knife or something and decides to stop you two once and for all?” The lines in her face sharpened, her brows slamming together. It was clear she didn't even like to voice a hypothetical in which harm came to her best friend. He didn't like to picture it, either.

“I won't let that happen,” Mark assured her.

“And I can't imagine Dennis would do that,” Jonathan said.

“Why?” Lynn wanted to know.

“He hasn't done it yet, and he's had the opportunity. Why would he do it now
and
in front of an audience?”

Lynn slumped back into the couch cushions. “I still can't wrap my head around all of this. We still don't know
what
it was that Victor even found. What if it's all been one giant misunderstanding? A series of coincidences, and we're too paranoid to realize it?”

“I thought the same thing,” Nikki said, casting an apologetic smile toward Mark. “At first I thought it was grief clouding judgment, misplaced guilt. You know, seeing signs that weren't there.” She turned to Lynn. “But then we found out that Darwin McGregor received enough money to get his grandmother out of debt and into a wealthy retirement home while still giving him money in his savings a day after the trial.” She held up her finger. “
That
plus Dennis's strange behavior at the same time? Whatever is going on, that man is pulling some major strings to keep it quiet. Who's to say he'll stop just because Kelli says she will?”

The room quieted at that.

Mark recalled the fear on Kelli's face as she'd told him about Dennis's visit. He had ended his call with Darling only to call back after he officially accepted his job. He'd talked to her husband.

“I'm going to skip over the fact that you called my wife and asked for help and didn't bother to at least clue me in to what's going on,” Oliver had said, not giving Mark room to make excuses or apologize. “Instead, I'm going to give you a warning. I know Darling confirmed your suspicions about Darwin. He got paid. But what she didn't get was a chance to tell you she has no idea who did that. There wasn't a trace of the purse holder at all—she looked all night and morning. We even looped in Derrick with his law-enforcement connections and still couldn't come up with a name or place. Whoever is behind this—whether or not it's Dennis—they're good. They're dangerous. Watch yourself and be careful.”

Now he was sitting in his apartment with the best bodyguard he knew, his boss, a very concerned best friend, a toddler and a woman he'd kissed in a heated moment. All of them creating a plan to end whatever was going on.

If he thought about it too much, Mark started to see the cracks that their plan could fall between. Lynn was right, but that didn't mean they could all just sit there and pretend everything could go back to normal. Not after Dennis had shown up at Kelli's house. Not after he had talked about Grace.

“I think this is what they make beer for,” Lynn finally said. Despite their moods, it earned a laugh from the room. The weight of the unknown dangers started to lift.

“You know, I'm just curious to see what Mark's going to wear,” Jonathan said. “I think the last and
only
time I saw you spiffed up was Oliver's wedding. And even then I think you changed between the ceremony and the reception.”

Nikki laughed. “He did! One minute he was wearing his tux and the next he was wearing flannel,” she added.

“Flannel?” Lynn asked with a grimace. “I'm a fan of flannel, but I don't think it's meant as wedding attire.”

Mark held up his hands. “Hey! I didn't wear flannel to the wedding. Just the reception and, to be fair, the reception was small and at their house.”

“Everyone was wearing their fanciest clothes and here comes Mark looking like a lumberjack,” Jonathan jumped in, smiling at the memory.

“Please tell me you got a picture of this,” Lynn said. She grinned. “I really can't picture the glory of Lumberjack Mark.”

“Oh, we made him take a picture with Darling just so we'd never forget,” said Nikki. She turned to Mark and her expression darkened. “Do you still have it or...”

Or did you get rid of that when you decided you didn't need friends?
Mark finished her unsaid thought in his head. The past few days had shown him how easily he could fall back into step with those once closest to him. When they hadn't believed him after Victor's death it had hurt, but now he really understood their viewpoint. They had been trying to protect him from himself—from his guilt and grief—by trying to get him to move on. To stop chasing a ghost and get back to living his life. Instead of seeing it from their eyes he'd decided to believe they didn't trust him—didn't believe in him. Now, looking around at their faces, eager to help, Mark wished he could change the way he'd just shut down around them. When this was all over, he needed to do right by them.

“Of course I still have that. I still have pictures from the wedding of all of us. Including one of Jonathan trying to break-dance,” he answered with a grin. Jonathan groaned in response. “Let me grab them really quick.” He wanted to prove to Nikki and to Jonathan that he hadn't completely written them out of his life during the past year or so. Plus, he wanted to check on Kelli. Not being able to see her for this long didn't sit right with him. Dennis Crawford's earlier appearance had set him on edge more than he liked to admit.

The bedroom door was cracked open. Slowly he pushed inside, not wanting to knock and wake Grace if she had finally fallen asleep. The room was dark but the light from the window—even though it was cloudy—lit it enough that he was able to make eye contact with Kelli when he walked in. She and Grace were both lying down. Grace's arms were wrapped around Kelli, and her eyes were closed.

Mark pointed to his closet and tried to get there as quietly as possible. Within the walk-in he found the shoebox he'd labeled as Doliver—his name mash-up for the Quinns—and started to slip back out of the room.

“How's it going in there?” Kelli whispered. Her voice cut through the silence like a knife. He turned, surprised she had said anything at all. “Don't worry. Once she's like this, we could sit here and recite every episode of
Dora the Explorer
and she wouldn't wake up. This one sleeps hard.” She smiled. “Want to keep me company until the octopus decides to detangle from me?”

Mark stifled a laugh and nodded.

“If that's a pickup line, I can honestly say I've never heard it before.” He kicked off his shoes and put the box down on the floor before carefully lying down on the opposite side of Grace. Both adults watched her with wide eyes. She stirred but didn't wake up and didn't detach from her mother.

“Bullet dodged,” Kelli said once Grace had stilled again. “She may seem like a pretty chill child, but if you wake her up before she's had enough rest, she'll show you just what war looks like. And we have enough on our plates right now. Speaking of war, how are our troops out there?”

Mark settled his head back on the pillow and looked at the ceiling.

“We've gone over the plan enough—not that it's complicated—and everyone's ready. Lynn thinks we shouldn't go, and I don't think so, either,” he admitted.

“You think it won't work?”

“No, it probably will. Jonathan thinks Dennis will say something to us when he sees we came despite his warning. I agree.”

“So, why shouldn't we go, then?”

Mark turned his head to face her. Her green-gray eyes still managed to be clear in the low light of the room.

“Because Lynn's right, too. What if he pulls something and
does
try to hurt you?” Mark felt the backup of words behind his tongue. Words that needed saying, emotions that needed out. But was it the time? Was it the place? Would it ever be?

“Then you'll stop him. You'll protect me,” Kelli answered simply. The uninhibited trust she placed in him was so pure that Mark couldn't stop what he said next.

“I couldn't protect Victor.” Kelli blinked. She hadn't expected him to say that. He could see the surprise clearly on her face. He took advantage of the lag and continued. “If I had, you wouldn't need protecting now. Not by me. I'm so sorry, Kelli.”

The anguish—the guilt since the fire—had finally burned its way through his skin. Lying there with Victor's wife and daughter was too much for the bodyguard. He needed Kelli to know that
he
knew he had let her down in an unimaginable way. He could no longer deny that he had feelings for the beautiful blonde. Like his admission now, the kiss earlier had sprung from an inner desire he could no longer suppress.

Expecting her to finally see reason—her trust might really be misplaced—Mark started to get up. It shifted the bed enough to jostle Grace. Before he could clear her reach, the toddler flipped from her mom and grabbed his arm. He froze, and like the little octopus she was, she looped her arms around his and buried her face against his shirt.

Mark remained steady until it was clear she had gone back to sleep. He wanted to do at least one good thing by Kelli, even something as small as not waking up the toddler. However, he wasn't used to affection from a child. Even if that child was fast asleep. He looked at Kelli uncertainly.

She smiled, and the room around her seemed to brighten.

“Mark, I'm only going to tell you this once, so please take it to heart.” She put her hand in his, resting them both against the sheets. “I
never
blamed you for Victor's death and I
never
will. In my eyes, you did your job perfectly.” She squeezed his hand before moving hers over Grace's hands on his arm. “Do you want to know why I think—no, why I
know
—that?”

Mark nodded, transfixed by her words.

“Because, no matter what else you did that night, at the end of it you saved me. Which means you saved Grace.” Without heeding her own advice not to move her child, Kelli leaned across the girl and brushed her lips against Mark's. The kiss was so soft he almost thought he'd imagined it as she pulled away. “And for that, I am eternally grateful. So, as Victor's widow, I have to ask you to stop blaming yourself for every wrong thing that has happened and might happen. If Victor could talk to you now, he'd tell you the same thing. I
promise
. It's time for you—and me—to stop living in that tragic past.” She paused and looked down at her daughter. “It's time we start focusing on a more beautiful future.” She reached up and took his chin in her hand. “No more of this tortured-soul stuff. Okay?”

A chuckle rose in his throat as if her touch alone had absolved him of a burden he'd carried for two years. Ever since the first night he'd held her in his arms and carried her to safety.

“Okay,” he agreed. A smile that felt better than any he'd had in a while pulled the corner of his lips up.

Kelli mimicked it.

“Good.” She backed away from him slowly, rolling over and carefully getting out of bed. “Now you stay with the octopus while I take a look at you as a lumberjack.” She went straight for the box he'd put down.

“Were we that loud?”

She mocked surprise. “Oh, I didn't tell you? Along with mom separation anxiety I also have mom hearing. It's a bundle thing.” She opened the box and pulled out the photo album. “We know you can pull off a tux, but now let's see if Mark Tranton can pull off flannel.”