by Sabrina York
Roni went utterly still. Her eyes narrowed on Anthony, her expression eerily calm, cold. She stepped around Mark to face her ex again. He tried to hold her back, but she gently set her hand on his arm and extricated herself from his hold. “No,” she said with a frigid intensity that made Anthony retreat. It made little hairs prickle on Mark’s nape, as well. “You do not kick my dog. You do not kick me. You do not kick anyone. Do you hear me?”
Something about her demeanor hit home with Anthony, too. His eyes widened. He backed away.
She followed.
And then, Snoopy joined in, dancing around his feet and going in for an ankle bite here and there.
“Stop. Stop!” Anthony howled. He shot an imploring glance at Mark. “Help me, damn it.”
The only reason Mark stepped in was because he was afraid that Anthony might take a swipe at Roni, or another one at Snoopy. He took Roni in his arms, and whispered, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.”
She glanced at him with blank eyes—a sliver of icy fear sliced through him at that sight—but then her gaze cleared and she saw him. “He kicked my dog, Mark,” she said. “Did you see? He kicked my dog.”
“I saw, honey, I saw. Don’t worry. I’m here.”
“And who the hell are you?”
Mark’s gaze whipped back to Anthony, who was jabbing a finger at him with each word. Though, Mark noticed, he was careful; he didn’t come too close. Coward.
Mark had no intention of answering that question—partly because he didn’t know what word to use, didn’t really know what he was to Roni—so he was surprised when she spoke up.
“He’s the man I love,” she said, loud and clear enough for the next county to hear.
His heart zigged upward and he grinned at her. “I am?”
Her smile softened. “You know you are, Mark.” Then she went up on her toes and kissed him.
He kissed her back.
He was vaguely aware of Anthony sputtering at them in the background, and Snoopy still yapping like he’d trapped a fox. But mostly he was aware of Roni. Her scent, her taste, the way she felt so perfect in his arms. “I love you,” he told her.
“I love you, too.”
But Anthony wasn’t done. His hand fell heavily on Mark’s shoulder. “Get away from her, you—”
Before Anthony could say another word, Mark whirled and clocked him.
Chapter Ten
Anthony hit the ground with a thud.
“I didn’t see that,” Cole said from the doorway.
“See what?” Luke said, even as he offered Mark a high five.
Cole snorted a laugh and shook his head before pulling out his pad. “Right. So what’s going on here?”
Mark glanced at Roni. This was her story to tell, after all. She nodded and waved toward Anthony’s form. “My ex just got out of jail for spousal assault and involuntary manslaughter. He came here to find me. When he grabbed me, I threw him over my shoulder.”
Cole’s eyes widened; he sized up Roni with a new appreciation.
But then, Mark realized what she’d just said. He hadn’t ever asked her for the details of her ordeal, so he had no idea what she’d meant. He turned her into his arms and stared into her eyes. “Manslaughter?” A whisper.
She nodded. Tears filled her eyes. “I was pregnant the last time he assaulted me. The baby died.”
She said it so matter-of-factly, but he saw—no, felt—the pain that wracked her. “Oh, Roni...” It was all he could manage. That and a hug he didn’t want to ever end.
“Well, okay.” Cole’s jaw flexed as he focused on Anthony, who’d levered into a sitting position on the floor, showing the good sense not to get up again. “Did you just get out of prison?” he asked in a cool, detached, professional kind of voice.
Anthony scowled. “A couple weeks. Look, I just came to talk to my wife—”
“I’m no longer your wife.”
“Veronica.” Again, Anthony’s tone made the little hairs on Mark’s nape prickle. It was a toxic slurry of domination and condescension. His fingers flexed for no reason whatsoever. Certainly not with the desire to fist together and clobber someone again. “Veronica, come here.” Anthony pointed to a spot right in front of him, as though he were ordering a dog.
Her throat worked, but other than that, and a scorching glare, she didn’t respond.
Good for her.
“You on probation?”
Anthony’s expression turned even more sour at Cole’s query. “She’s my wife.”
Cole ignored this insistence and turned his attention on Roni. “Did you file for a restraining order?”
She nodded. “I filed one in Seattle and another with the county when I moved over here.”
“Okay.” Cole’s smile widened. “That’s all I need to take him in.”
Roni gaped at him. “Really?”
“Yeah. Violating a restraining order is a violation of parole.” He shrugged. “No problem.”
“Wait. I just want to talk to my wife—Hey!” Anthony struggled against being handcuffed and snarled and scowled, but frankly, watching Cole cuff him and lead him down the street to the substation made Mark’s day. The only downside was the fact that as soon as Anthony disappeared from sight, Roni started shaking.
Mark knew she was in shock. Because no matter what, facing down her ex had to have been gutting. He glanced at Luke, who read his mind. While Luke locked up the bakery, Mark took Roni upstairs and gave her a glass of sherry, because that was the only alcohol he could find in the apartment, and even that was probably twenty years old, judging from the crystalized sugar on the lid. He sat her on the sofa in the living room, pulled her close and held her as she sipped. Snoopy, of course, positioned himself on her lap. It was natural, Mark supposed, for her fingers to stroke the pup’s warm belly.
When Luke came upstairs, he poked his head into the room. “Milly’s still napping. You got this?” He nodded at Roni.
Mark held her closer. “Yeah. We’re good.”
“Okay then. I’m gonna take off.” And, to Roni, he said, “You did great, honey. You did real good.”
She murmured, “Thanks,” and he sketched a wave and left.
Silence filled the room. Mark passed the moments rubbing Roni’s back as she worked through her emotions. He could practically feel her pass from one to the next. Fear, anger, exhilaration.
It scared him, because she’d been lucky this time. Her reaction had taken Anthony by surprise. Who knew what he would have done if Mark and Luke hadn’t shown up when they did? After she’d freaking thrown him to the ground?
He could easily have picked himself up and come at her again...this time, enraged. He could easily have hurt her. Maybe killed her. It wasn’t as if they doubted he was capable. She—
His thoughts stalled as he realized she’d pulled back and was staring at him.
“What?” he asked.
“Are you okay?” she asked in a soft voice.
“Am I okay?” He laughed through a frustrated snort. “Are you okay?”
“You’re the one who’s all tense and muttering things beneath his breath.”
“I’m not muttering.”
“You are.” Her smile took much of the sting out of the accusation.
He sighed heavily. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not okay.”
She tipped her head to the side. “All right. Just say it.”
“You scared me to death, Roni, going at him like that. He could have lashed out at you. You could have been hurt.”
“But I wasn’t.”
He glowered. “Don’t start that again.”
“He kicked my dog, Mark. What does that mean to you?”
“That he’s a bastard. That he’ll go after anything that’s weaker than he is. That doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous. Please, pleas
e, don’t ever do that again. Don’t even confront him like that. He could have hurt you.” He had to stress that last bit, because he wanted to make sure he got his emotions across.
She sighed heavily. “He has hurt me. So many ways, so many times. I have had enough.”
He wrapped her in his arms and rested his head against hers. “I’m so sorry about the baby, Roni. I wish I knew what to say to make it better.”
She rubbed his arm. “I’m sorry, too. I will always hold that baby in my heart. I will. But we can’t let death keep us from living, can we? If anything, I need to live better, to make her proud.”
“It was a girl?” His eyes teared up. “A little girl?” She snuggled closer.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked.
He gaped at her. “How could I be mad at you? Seeing you face him down... I’ve never been more scared.”
She met his gaze. He hated that hers was wet, that her eyes glinted with some emotion he couldn’t quite identify. “You’ve always been there for me.”
“I’m not your ex, Roni.” The bastard didn’t even deserve a name.
“No.” She put her hand to his cheek and stared at him openly. “No, you’re not. You’re nothing like him. You are gentle and sweet and you’ve been more patient than I ever imagined a man could be.”
He tightened his hold on her. “You told him I was the man you loved,” he reminded her, just in case she’d forgotten.
Her eyes glinted. “I meant it. You are the man I love, Mark Stirling. For better or for worse.”
His heart hiccuped. “Hey, back up, woman. Them’s marrying words.” He meant it as a joke, but she wasn’t playing around at all. Her expression went all solemn and sober.
“I know.”
Heat rose in his belly; the words spun in his head. “What are you saying?” He barely got the words out.
Again, that playful smile. “If you still want more, I’m here. But there’s something you should know before you—”
“There’s nothing I need to know. Marry me.”
She shook her head and pulled away. “Hear me out. Then, if you want, ask again. This is important.”
When he nodded, she removed Snoopy from her lap, took Mark’s hand, pulled him off the couch and led him into the kitchen.
“This conversation is going to require some fortification,” she told him with a brave smile; it only wobbled a little.
He tried to smile back, but his heart wasn’t in it. He could tell from her expression, whatever this was, it ran deep. A wound that cut deep into her soul.
All he knew was, it didn’t matter what it was. He would love her regardless.
* * *
Roni dawdled around in the kitchen for longer than it took to make a pot of coffee and cut some brownies, but she needed the time to build up her resolve. The last thing she wanted was to share this secret with anyone, much less Mark Stirling. But he deserved to know the truth. Especially if he wanted to marry her.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t take it too hard.
Finally, she turned to the table, where he was waiting. Patiently. She set his coffee and plate in front of him and then went back for her own. But after that, there was no more avoiding anything. She sat with a sigh.
He reached across the table and took her hand, and she let him, because she needed it. “I can tell this is difficult for you,” he said.
She nodded. “It is.”
He shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. “Take your time. I have a brownie.”
He was joking, of course, but she appreciated it.
“When Anthony went after me, when he went after Snoopy, it brought back...a memory.” Even now, it engulfed her, took her back. Put her in that bathroom amid shattered glass and a rain of agony pelting down on her—
Mark’s thumb stroked her skin, bringing her back, blissfully, to this room. “He kicked me, too, you see,” she said without meeting his gaze.
“He kicked you?” His fingers tightened on hers. A muscle in his cheek flexed.
“More than once. He did. Here.” She cradled a hand over her belly. “I didn’t fight back. I couldn’t. All I could think about was protecting the baby.”
“God. I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too. But that’s not all. That night, in the ER, when they told me about the baby...”
He held her closer. “I’m here.”
“They said my...uterus was damaged.”
Silence settled. He stroked her with his thumb.
“I can’t... There are no...” She sighed. “Mark, I can’t have another baby.”
He stared up at her, tears welling in his eyes. “Sweetheart...”
She brushed back his hair, looped it behind his ear. “I know you want kids. I’m sorry. I understand if that changes things. I do.” But, please, God, don’t let it change things.
Oh, it was an eternity, that moment, with him staring at her working through her confession, changing his life and hers in that second or two. And then he stood and pulled her up with him, took her in his arms and held her, and she let him.
“Hey,” he said into her hair. “There are so many other options for kids. So many in foster care. So many kids who need a good home.”
She pulled back and stared at him. Her heart thundered. “You’d be okay with that?”
His grin warmed her. Oh, how it warmed her. “Hun, I am open to anything...if it makes you happy.”
“You deserve to have your own kids, though. With your genes...”
“Then surrogacy. We’ll look into it. We’ll look into whatever it takes.”
“But, Mark—”
He didn’t let her continue. Didn’t let her argue with him, even though she wasn’t sure why she tried. He kissed her and kissed her hard. “It doesn’t matter, Roni. Not to me. The only thing that matters to me is that we found our way back to each other. I don’t want to lose you ever again. So it’s you and me. That’s what matters. That’s all.”
She smiled as she met his gaze. “Why do you always have to be so perfect, Mark Stirling?” she asked.
His face split into an enormous grin and he shrugged. “In the blood, I guess.” He leaned back. “Wait—so does that mean you’ll marry me?”
Her smile grew wider. “Yes, Mark. I’ll marry you.” And then she laughed at the pure joy in his expression. She had to.
* * *
Mark and Roni stayed up talking long into the night. He instinctively knew she needed to work through her feelings, and so did he.
But damn, it was hard to listen as she told him all the dirty details of her marriage. Anthony was just down the street in the cell at the substation. It wouldn’t take long to march down there and punch him again. Maybe more than once.
It was a good thing Roni needed him here, and he needed her. The feel of her warm body curled in his arms, the sight of her adoring gaze... She renewed him, each and every day.
He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he’d made the right decision to ask for her hand, and she’d made the right decision to accept. They were going to be happy together, because both of them understood it was their responsibility—both of them—to make it so.
Funny, wasn’t it? He’d been a lone wolf for so long, only responsible for his own happiness. What a hollow little world he’d carved out for himself.
And he’d defended it!
What a moron.
This was so much better. This...partnership.
He was also excited about the possibility that someday they would have a child or two—either through surrogacy or adoption. And while either process probably wouldn’t be easy, it was possible.
Anything was possible now.
He watched dawn break, holding Roni close and smiling at her adorable snores. He wanted to wake her, he wanted to make love to her, but yesterday had been a long day.
He decided to let her sleep in. Maybe make her breakfast in bed.
The kitchen was shadowed as he padded, barefoot, to the coffee maker. He wore the flannel lounge pants he’d brought over to Roni’s when the nights started getting chilly, but he hadn’t pulled on his T-shirt before leaving the bedroom. It wasn’t a strange thing for him to wander around his place half-dressed, so he didn’t think twice about it...until someone knocked on the door.
Not to put too fine a point on it, until he opened the door...to Gwen.
He had to fight the urge to cover himself like a Gothic virgin caught in flagrante delicto. Tough to do when Gwen stared at his naked chest and her nose curled.
“Really?” she muttered.
He opened the door wider. “Come on in, Gwen. I was making coffee. You want some?”
“Not really. Is Roni available?”
“She’s sleeping in.”
“She owns a bakery. People who own a bakery don’t get to sleep in.”
“Carlos and Lupe are covering the mornings now.”
Gwen frowned. Or maybe it was just her usual expression. “Oh, yeah. She mentioned she’d hired more staff.”
“They’re working out great. She actually has time on her hands now.”
“Good.”
She stood there awkwardly as they both watched the coffee dribble into the pot. “You sure you don’t want some?” he asked as he poured a cup for himself.
“I suppose.”
He pulled another mug from the cupboard, filled it and set it on the table for her. “I’m, ah, actually glad you’re here, Gwen,” he said as he sat. He pretended not to notice the face she pulled. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”
“Great.” She dropped into a chair, then fixed her coffee with cream and sugar.
“It’s about Roni.”
She sent him a surprised look, but it was probably just sarcasm. She was real good at sarcasm.
“I know you’re not a fan of mine—”
“Cut to the chase, Stirling.”
“But Roni cares for you a lot, and I know you care for her, too.”