Full Force Fatherhood

by Tyler Anne Snell

“Come in,” she said, voice low like his.

  He did as he was told.

  The single-occupancy bathroom was small but clean. Kelli backed up to the wall next to the sink and ran a hand over her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, voice still a little uneven. Mark shut the bathroom door behind him and moved uncertainly in front of her. He hadn’t noticed until then that she’d been wearing mascara. Some of it had run beneath her eyes. “I just—I couldn’t take it. Seeing that picture...” She put her hands over her eyes and bowed her head.

  Mark, compelled by an emotion he couldn’t quite define, closed the space between them. He put his arms around her. Never a man to put too much stock in his intimate actions, he hoped the contact—the embrace—would bring her a dose of comfort.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered atop her head. He felt her body tense a moment. Maybe he had overstepped the boundaries of their new relationship.

  Kelli wrapped her arms around the small of his back and buried her face in his chest. Soft cries filled the air, but Mark didn’t interfere beyond holding her. If there was one thing he knew for a fact, it was that he couldn’t protect her from the ache of missing her husband.

  A pain that he was finding hurt him more than usual.

  A few minutes went by before Kelli collected herself. Slowly she detached from him. Her mascara was really running now, but Mark found her impossibly beautiful.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Seeing Victor’s picture...it opened an old wound, I admit. But I’m not sad. I’m angry,” she explained, ice in her words. “I don’t know a lot of things, but I do know one thing—my gut is right this time. This place—these people—they had something to do with Victor’s death. And now? Now they have the gall to celebrate him with some kind of press gimmick?” Her expression turned fierce. Mark could clearly read her anger. “We have to figure out what’s going on. And we have to do it now.”

  It wasn’t until that moment that Mark realized the gravity of what they were trying to do. Or the lengths to which he would go to ensure that the Crane family got the justice they deserved.

  And that Kelli and Grace would never be hurt again.

  “You have my word, Kelli, that I will do everything in my power to help you. No matter what.”

  He meant every word.

  Chapter Twelve

  There was a man standing in the lobby when Kelli and Mark walked back in. She’d avoided looking at Victor’s picture again. Her fear that her emotions would get the better of her again was too great. Especially considering the main emotion was unbridled anger. Mark led her out to Karen standing with the mystery man. He kept his back straight and fists slightly balled. Apparently the ex-bodyguard was now feeling that anger, too.

  Kelli quickly touched one of Mark’s hands before they stopped. It was her way of telling him to keep cool even though she’d just spent the past five minutes crying in the bathroom.

  “I’m so sorry, Kelli,” Karen said in a rush. “I didn’t for one moment stop to think that seeing—well, that it might be hard.”

  Kelli held up her hand.

  “It’s not your fault,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would be hard, either.”

  Karen seemed to take solace in that and gave her a little smile before turning to the man next to her.

  Wearing a pressed gray button-up with a skinny black tie, a pair of pristine slacks and expensive-looking dress shoes, the man exuded importance. Older than Kelli, perhaps in his early forties, he had close-cropped black hair, brown eyes behind a pair of black-rimmed glasses and a dark complexion. His smile showed a mouth full of bright white teeth.

  Maybe it was a requirement for working at Bowman.

  “Kelli, Mark, this is Hector Mendez,” Karen said. “He’s the Bowman Foundation’s publicist and PR genius.”

  Hector’s smile widened as he shook their hands.

  “I think you’re taking privileges with that last title,” he said, voice as cool as his attitude. “It’s nice to meet you both and—” he exchanged a look with Kelli “—I’m sorry for our part in causing you any discomfort.”

  It was an oddly phrased apology, but she accepted it graciously. “Thank you.”

  “Now, Karen tells me you haven’t been able to take the full tour?”

  “No, I didn’t make it past the hallway,” Kelli joked, trying to lighten the anger she felt building inside her again. Whether it was lingering emotions or something altogether new, she couldn’t tell. But she knew she wanted to leave.

  “Maybe we can reschedule, if you wouldn’t mind,” Mark intercepted. His hand bumped hers, and she was surprised her hand was fisted.

  Play it cool, Kel.

  Hector didn’t seem to notice the small movement.

  “How about this?” The publicist walked over to Karen’s desk and pulled an envelope from a drawer. He handed it to Kelli. “I know it’s short notice, but the Bowman Foundation has a dinner each year to thank and celebrate those who have contributed to us. It’s formal but lots of fun. It’s tomorrow—again, sorry, short notice—but why don’t you two come? We can certainly do another tour if you’re feeling up to it then?” Before they could answer, he added, “Our fearless CEO will, of course, be there, as well as Dennis Crawford.”

  That caught Kelli off guard. She scrambled to close her mouth. Had Dennis asked the Bowman Foundation about the article even though he’d told her there was no story there?

  “Dennis Crawford?”

  Hector looked temporarily confused. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was under the impression you two were friends? He speaks highly of you.”

  Kelli was quick to hide her surprise this time. She smiled. “He was closer to Victor than me, but I’ll look forward to seeing him tomorrow.”

  Mark cut his eyes to her before adding, “Thank you for the invitation. We can’t wait.”

  “Great,” Hector exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “It should be fun!”

  They said their goodbyes, and Mark and Kelli went back to the car. They didn’t speak until the Bowman Foundation’s building was in the rearview.

  “Well, that was a roller coaster of emotions,” Kelli said, breaking the silence. Her mind was being pulled in several directions, trying to figure out which thought to focus on first. She chose the mention of Dennis. “When I talked to Mr. Crawford the other day, he assured me that nothing was wrong but then wanted to see Victor’s journal. I get mugged and then the house gets broken into a day later by people who probably are after the same journal. And now the publicist for the Bowman Foundation pointedly mentions Dennis will be at the dinner?”

  She ran a hand through her hair. A flowery scent wafted off, reminding her of the impulse decision to use Lynn’s “sexy-scented” shampoo that morning. Her motivation behind that action made her face grow momentarily hot.

  “As a former bodyguard, I’ve got to tell you going to the dinner tomorrow might be a bad idea,” Mark said. “Especially if the one person we suspect has a part in all of this will definitely be there.”

  “But that’s why we need to go!” Kelli stopped herself and amended her statement. “Thank you for standing by me in there, but you don’t have to keep trying to protect me.”

  Kelli felt a shift in the mood as the ex-bodyguard’s hands tightened around the wheel. As an afterthought, she realized with a tiny shock that he was driving her car without being asked. He’d seen she was upset and did it without mention. Just another detail that made her already scattered thoughts harder to pin down.

  “You know, even when I was a bodyguard, I never had to protect anyone,” Mark started. “I’ve never been forced to keep someone safe, and I’m not being forced now, either. So, yes, I know I don’t have to try to keep you safe, but I really want to.”

  If his eyes hadn’t been
on the road, Kelli wasn’t sure what she would have done with herself. Victor’s picture floated behind her vision. It made her finally put the two men side by side.

  Sure, looks-wise they were opposites. Victor was a lanky, almost red-haired man with a smile that approached goofy. Mark was wider—broad shoulders, solid muscles—with a no-nonsense cut to his brown hair and a little bit of a farmer’s tan peeking out of his shirt. As for his smiles, they were all laced with something Kelli couldn’t quite put her finger on but was finding she liked.

  Personality-wise, were they also opposites?

  Kelli did know one thing for sure. Victor and Mark shared one very important trait.

  They had good hearts.

  “I would say thank-you, but I seem to say that a lot,” she answered after an awkward moment of silence had grown too loud. “So I’ll skip right to the part where I ask, what’s our plan?”

  “Plan?”

  “You know, the plan to catch the bad guy and restore justice to the world.” She spread her hands out wide, making a pretend rainbow over the car’s dash.

  Mark laughed.

  “You make it sound so easy,” he commented.

  She shrugged.

  “If Grace can figure out how to play Candy Crush on my phone, then we can totally do this.”

  * * *

  MARK DROVE THEM back to his apartment, where Kelli said they’d hatch their game plan. The trip to the Bowman Foundation had been much more eventful than he’d originally thought. Like Kelli, his gut had yelled at him.

  There wasn’t just one thing off—there were several.

  “Do you mind if I go call Lynn and Grace?” Kelli asked when he’d settled into the couch, ready to brainstorm. “I’m not too good with separation from the little one.” Kelli smiled a smile that clearly showed a mother’s love.

  “Yeah, no problem. You can go into my bedroom if you’d like.”

  Instantly he realized he’d made the offer sound suggestive. A Freudian slip if he’d ever had one. Kelli did a half-snort laugh and retreated into the room. It could have been his imagination, but it looked as though her cheeks had reddened. Then again, he could have been mistaken. Mark stretched out his legs and realized just how tired he felt.

  Resting his head back on the cushions, he crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. When Kelli was finished, he’d offer her some coffee and make a very strong mug for himself. His thoughts went from coffee to the woman who had suddenly become a part of his life.

  Would she still be there after they’d somehow found the justice they both wanted and so desperately needed?

  * * *

  “BOO.”

  Mark turned his head toward the noise and slowly blinked.

  Some small person was staring at him, only inches from his face.

  “Boo,” she said again, trying to whisper but failing.

  Completely off his game and confused, he repeated the word. It made the little girl giggle.

  “Grace!” The toddler whipped her head around to look toward the kitchen. She smiled even though Kelli’s tone was scolding. “I told you not to mess with him!”

  Mark, finally starting to connect the dots, sat up and rubbed his face.

  “I fell asleep?” he asked, turning to face Kelli, also. His eyes widened at two things he hadn’t expected to see—aside from the sudden appearance of the half pint who had gone back to staring at him. Kelli was standing over the oven cooking something—and it smelled delicious—while Nikki Waters sat across from her on a bar stool, beer in hand. “How long was I out?” he asked, alarmed.

  Kelli laughed. “Um, a few hours at least,” she answered with an apologetic smile. “I was going to leave to give you some privacy, but then Nikki showed up and we got to talking and lost track of the time.” She motioned to Grace. “And then I started to miss that little one. Did I mention I have separation issues with her?”

  As if on cue, Grace giggled. “Boo,” she squealed.

  “You were sleeping so solidly that I figured you’d be hungry when you finally woke up,” Kelli added. “So I raided your pantry.”

  “And I stole a beer,” Nikki said with a wink. Unlike the earlier, angrier version, this Nikki was all smiles. Her shoulders were even relaxed.

  “Again, now that I say it all out loud, it sounds really creepy...” Kelli suddenly looked panicked, just as she had when she’d first stopped by his apartment. It made him smile.

  “You can be creepy all you want if it means I can eat whatever that is you’re cooking,” he joked. His stomach growled loudly in testament.

  Kelli relaxed. “Good,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to be kicked out before Nikki finishes this story.”

  “Story?” he asked when the two women shared a look.

  Nikki laughed in response. “Don’t worry about it.”

  So he didn’t. Mark sidestepped Grace and the toy that had grabbed her attention and walked to the bathroom to try to lift the postnap haze of sleep. He splashed his face with cold water and took a deep breath. A fit of laughter met his ears from the other room. Aside from the past two days, Mark hadn’t had anyone come to his apartment. Especially not to eat.

  Was he upset that Kelli had decided to cook dinner for his former boss, her daughter and him?

  He dried his face and gave himself a good look in the mirror.

  No.

  He wasn’t upset at all.

  “Do I even want to know?” he asked after he was finished. Nikki turned toward him with another smile. Her eyes took in his freshly shaved face, but she didn’t comment on it.

  “Let’s just say that Kelli now knows why I’ve learned my lesson on sending you, Oliver and Jonathan on assignments together.”

  Immediately Mark pictured one long drunken night in Vegas. He cringed.

  “Let it be known that we had already finished a contract when we decided to try our hand at gambling,” he said to Kelli, walking to the refrigerator. He grabbed a beer and went back to the couch. Grace’s attention had switched to a multitude of colorful building blocks she pulled from a bag.

  Taking a sip from his beer, he watched the little girl try to piece two of the blocks together. Their parts didn’t connect, and her frustration was evident. He set his beer down and slid to the floor next to her. With wide eyes she watched as he took the two blocks and found a long piece that connected them. He handed the new construction back to her and she smiled.

  Slowly, as if asking for permission, he took a few more blocks from the bag and started to put them together. At first she seemed unsure of the intrusion. Then she started to hand him her blocks. She scooted closer to him, and together they faced the construction of what Mark hoped would be a little house.

  “A builder, a bodyguard and a gambler? That’s quite the résumé, Mr. Tranton.” Kelli appeared beside them with a bowl of pasta. She held it out, uncertain. “Sorry, I know that last thing I cooked for you was pasta, but there wasn’t anything else in the pantry. Also, I don’t know the rules in this apartment about where we can and can’t eat,” she apologized.

  Mark took the bowl and glanced at Grace, Kelli and Nikki. Each looked at him expectantly for much different reasons.

  He smiled.

  It was a definite change of pace for the bachelor.

  Minutes later, all three adults were eating in a circle around a tiny block house. Grace had a bag of cereal and razor-sharp focus on a cartoon on the TV. Mark hadn’t even realized he received the channel.

  “Grace and I have gotten into the bad habit of watching TV after we eat,” Kelli explained, sheepish. Even with the sound turned down, Grace didn’t break eye contact at the mention of her name. “It quiets the toddler beast within her.”

  Nikki laughed. “My niece and nephew were the same way, so don’t worry.
Sometimes you just have to take your breaks when you can get them,” she said.

  “The joys of single parenthood,” Kelli responded with an ounce of humor. It didn’t last long, and the three seemed to remember why they were all there. Mark cleared his throat.

  “Not that I’m against a visit from you, but what was it that you came to say?” he asked his old boss. As soon as the question left his mouth, he saw the woman transform into Boss Nikki. Straight back, relaxation evaporating. She set down her bowl.

  “First of all, I stand by my decision to not let you look into Dennis Crawford. Especially since you’re no longer an Orion agent,” she said firmly. “However, after hearing your theory about the fire and realizing that someone might really have tried to target Victor and by proxy my agent, I got maternal.” She held up a hand to stop his comment. “Believe me, it was a weird feeling. But it was a good thing, considering it pushed me to look into Dennis personally.”

  Mark’s and Kelli’s attention zeroed in on the woman.

  “As you both know, when Orion takes on a client, we do extensive background checks on the people connected to our client. We try to find threats before they happen—something we’ve learned to do better since the debacle in Maine with Oliver’s contract a few years ago. Since Dennis was the editor on the story and had email contact with Victor, we made sure to include him on the list of people to check out. But...no matter how hard we look or how many hypothetical scenarios we run to prepare our agents, humans have this funny way of not always adhering to the norm. They become unpredictable.”

  Mark put down his bowl. Kelli leaned in a bit closer. Nikki’s expression sharpened.

  “Dennis, I’ve realized now, is one of those people.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Silence.

  It enveloped the space around the three adults. Not even the oink of a cartoon pig in the background could penetrate their collective concentration.

  Eventually Mark spoke.

  “Dennis Crawford became unpredictable? How?” He tried to recall anything out of the ordinary about the retired editor back during the contract. The only contact he’d had with Victor was through an email the day before the fire happened. It had been solely work-related and hadn’t raised any red flags.