by Anthology
“Don’t worry about the blood. The important thing is that you’re safe, Miss…” He looked at me questioningly, waiting for me to fill in the blank with my name.
“Willow Simpson.” I smiled at him, thankful for the kindness of a stranger. “And you are?”
“Marcus Tucker.” He smiled back at me, and his whole face lit up. Straight, perfect, white teeth stood like soldiers at attention. The man was exquisite.
“Well, Marcus Tucker, I’m sorry I barged into your home and bled all over it. I didn’t know what else to do, and I’m glad you were here. I can’t imagine what might have happened to me if you hadn’t answered your door.” I shivered at the realization of the truth in my words.
From Marcus’ living room I heard a plaintive meow and saw Omelet trot into the kitchen, a worried expression on her little cat face. She must have followed my blood trail to find me. She was a genius; a regular Omelet, P.I.
“Is this yours?” Marcus laid the cloth on the table and bent down and scooped her up. I was about to warn him not to touch her, but I wasn’t fast enough. Omelet wasn’t a fan of strangers, particularly men. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for Marcus to howl in pain as Omelet made her opinion known. To my surprise, I only heard a happy purr and opened my eyes to see Omelet settle herself contentedly into Marcus’ arms.
“Who are you? The Cat Whisperer? Omelet doesn’t like strangers.” I stared in wonder at my cat as she nuzzled Marcus happily.
“She is an excellent judge of character.” Marcus smiled as he gently placed Omelet on my lap and went to close the front door. She licked my face happily.
“I’m sure you don’t remember, since you passed out, but I ran after the guy. Is he someone you know?” Marcus eyed me, waiting for my answer.
“No…I’ve never seen him before in my life. I fell asleep on my living room floor and when I opened my eyes, there he was with the butcher knife from my kitchen. I think he followed me home. He told me he was going to kill me…that he had to because he’d already taken the money, whatever that meant. He kept referring to a woman who’d paid him. I fought back, and then ran to your door. I’m afraid I don’t know any more than that.” I took a shuddering breath as I summed up the awful story.
“He had a head start on me, or I would have caught him. He took off his mask, and I got a good look at his face, though. I would recognize him if I saw him again.” Marcus’ jaw was set determinedly, and I had no doubt that he would have taken the man down if he’d caught up to him.
“You managed to get close enough to see his face? That’s pretty amazing; considering he had to be nearly all the way to the ground floor by the time you started. Are you an Olympic sprinter or something?” I stared at Marcus with admiration.
“Close; I’m a police officer,” Marcus replied.
“Well, that comes in handy.” I couldn’t believe my luck. I’d stumbled into my gorgeous neighbor’s apartment, cut and bleeding from an attack, and he just so happened to be a police officer. What were the odds? “Does that mean I can skip the whole filing a police report thing? I can just tell you, right?”
Marcus chuckled as if I’d said something funny. “It doesn’t really work that way, Willow. I’ve already called the station, and they’re sending out an officer to investigate. They’ll need to go through your apartment to see if there’s any evidence. They should be here soon.”
“Oh, okay. That sounds very official.” I swallowed hard, uncomfortable with the idea of having to relive the event again.
“Not to worry, I’ll be right beside you.” Marcus finished patching up my arm, which stung like mad. For someone so strong, he had extremely gentle hands. Omelet decided she wanted to explore and jumped off of my lap. I hoped she avoided the blood. Bathing my cat was not something I wanted to do tonight.
From the look of my wound, I wouldn’t need stitches, although the cut was pretty deep. I knew I was lucky. The idea started to sink in that someone broke into my home and tried to kill me; someone who was hired by a person I knew. Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill out. I fought them back. I would not cry in front of Marcus. The man had to think I was a complete mental case already.
I sat there blinking back the tears. I tried to think of other things to divert my mind, but now that the shock was gone, the memories of what happened came rushing back. As hard as I tried not to cry, the tears came anyway. They started to fall, one by one at first, and then it was like a waterfall. I cried uncontrollably, an ugly cry, where the snot and tears mixed together to create one horrific mess. Instead of looking uncomfortable as men often do when women cry, Marcus drew me close to him, wrapping his strong arms around my shaking body. I felt safe inside of his embrace, so I didn’t pull away, even though he was a complete stranger. He must be trustworthy, or Omelet wouldn’t like him.
I sobbed, not holding back, until the tears ran dry. Marcus continued to hold me, smoothing my hair and whispering comforting words. Strangely, I didn’t feel embarrassed about breaking down in front of him, which was very unlike me. I rested my head on his chest, allowing myself to be held, maybe for the first time ever. Not one given to overt displays of affection, I’d experienced few physical connections in my life. My father certainly wasn’t affectionate, and the men I’d been with weren’t either. I’d always thought that physical closeness was unnecessary. Apparently, I was wrong. I’d never been a touchy-feely person until this very moment. Even more confusing, I was enjoying it far more than I should have been, given the fact that I knew nothing about the person holding me.
I tentatively lifted my head off of Marcus’ chest and looked up at his face. Our eyes locked, and instead of breaking contact as I normally would, I couldn’t tear my gaze away. I was shocked to realize that I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone in my life. I needed to be close to him; I craved it. I reached up and pulled his face closer to mine, pleading with him silently, though I had no idea what I was asking for. All I knew was that I wanted him.
As if drawn together by an unseen force, our lips met with a shock of static electricity. I plastered my body against his, feeling like I couldn’t get close enough. Marcus reached down and scooped me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Turning around, he sat me down on the kitchen counter, never breaking the connection between us.
I was lost, but didn’t want to be found. I was drowning, but didn’t want to come up for air. His arms were around me, his hands clutched my hair, and I surrendered with wild abandon. I remember thinking it was all so unlike me, but I didn’t care. Nothing mattered except for Marcus’ lips on mine.
The moment was shattered by the ringing of the doorbell. Startled at the sound, I pulled away and looked at Marcus questioningly. Knowing my luck, it was probably his girlfriend.
“I’m…sorry…I don’t usually throw myself at strangers like that…” I stammered in explanation.
“It takes two…” Marcus smiled widely, letting me know he was on board with what just happened.
“The door…” I pointed in the direction of the sound of the doorbell.
“That will be the officers from the local precinct. They’ll want to talk to both of us,” Marcus explained as he gripped his hands around my waist and lifted me off the counter.
I felt my feet touch the floor, but I still felt like I was floating on a cloud. This entire night must be a dream. I was sure I would wake up soon.
“To be continued…” Marcus said as he kissed me quickly on the lips and went to answer the front door.
I was reeling from the heated moment with Marcus. Of all the events of the last couple of hours, kissing Marcus was the most unexpected; even more so than being attacked by a home intruder. I didn’t kiss people, especially complete strangers. And yet, I just had. As a matter of fact, I’d thrown myself at him, practically unzipping his body and crawling inside. What had come over me?
Marcus led the officer into the kitchen. The gray-haired police man smiled politely and apologized for the trauma I�
��d experienced. With the pleasantries out of the way, he jumped right in with questions. I told him everything I could remember, careful not to leave out any details that might be important. Marcus gave his statement to the officer as well. I was then told that we had to go next door to my apartment to survey the crime scene. I didn’t like having my home referred to as a crime scene, but I guess that’s what it was.
Marcus put his arm around me, helping secure the fleece blanket, which was the only thing standing between me and an arrest for indecent exposure. Omelet, probably wondering what exciting thing was going to happen next, trailed behind us as we left Marcus’ apartment. We followed the police man, who entered my apartment first to be sure things were secure. Once Marcus and I got the green light, we followed the officer inside.
I shivered as I saw the disaster in my living room, and Marcus rubbed my back comfortingly. There was a trail of what I assumed was my blood from the living room floor to my front door, leading down the hallway to Marcus’ door. My couch was tipped over, and all of the books and magazines on my coffee table were strewn about the room. The table itself was toppled on its side. I honestly didn’t remember how it got that way. The officer surveyed the damage with a frustrated look on his face. He bent down to pick up a piece of paper that was lying on the floor next to the couch.
“Is this yours?” He showed me a torn slip of paper with a phone number written on it.
I examined the paper, and while the handwriting didn’t look familiar, the phone number did. At the moment, I couldn’t recall whose number it was. I committed the digits to memory, knowing I would need to look through my contacts later for clues.
“No, that’s not mine.” I shook my head. “Maybe the intruder dropped it?”
“Maybe…” The police man continued looking around the room. Instead of assisting the officer as I assumed he would, Marcus stayed right beside me, his arm securely around me. It made me feel safe as I surveyed the chaos that was now my living room.
The officer finished his investigation. He made a few scribbles on the notepad in his hand, told Marcus he would be in touch, nodded at me, and left. I heard the front door close behind him.
“Now what?” I looked at Marcus, not sure what to do.
“Now I’m going to help you straighten up your living room. And don’t worry; I won’t leave you alone until they catch the guy. But first, I’m going to kiss you again.” Marcus tipped my face up to his and claimed my mouth with his own.
Omelet, unimpressed, yawned and trotted over to her bed where she promptly fell asleep. I wrapped myself around Marcus, happy to be under his particular brand of protection. Knowing a cop definitely had its perks. The mess in my living room ceased to be important.
♥♥♥♥♥♥
I grabbed a pile of blankets from my hall closet and carried them into the living room. Depositing them on my couch, I looked questioningly at Marcus.
“You know, you really don’t have to stay. I’m sure you would be much more comfortable in your own bed tonight.” I hated being a burden on him.
“Willow, I’m not leaving you. That thug might come back in the middle of the night, and then what? If you’re worried about your virtue, I promise I’ll stay on the couch.” Marcus chuckled as he pushed a wayward red curl off of my face.
“Maybe it’s not my virtue I’m worried about. Maybe it’s yours. Did you ever think of that?” I smiled playfully at him. “I mean, who knows? I might take advantage of you in the middle of the night.”
“I’m willing to take my chances.” Marcus kissed me deeply. If he kept this up, I just might tell him he didn’t have to sleep on the couch at all. Not wanting to rush things, I pulled away and began making his bed on my sofa.
“I really do appreciate you watching out for me. Especially considering that before today we didn’t even know each other.” I couldn’t believe it, but it was true.
“I want to. And forget about the fact that we barely know each other. I think we pretty much skipped over the preliminaries and moved right to second base.” Marcus laughed; it was a hearty, comforting sound.
“I suppose you get to know a guy pretty quickly when his tongue is down your throat. Plus, thanks to the intrusion, you’ve already seen me naked, so we can skip over all of that uncomfortableness, too.” I finished making the bed. “I guess I should try and get some sleep. I have to get up early for work tomorrow. Speaking of which, you don’t have to rearrange your day for me. I’m sure I’ll be okay on my own.”
“Nope, I’m sticking to your side like glue until that guy is caught. And don’t worry; I volunteered to be assigned to your watch. It’s my detail, so you aren’t messing up my day at all. In fact, I’m getting paid to hang out with you.” Marcus stood in front of me and rubbed his hands up and down my arms, sending shivers down my spine.
“They couldn’t possibly pay you enough for all of the trouble I’ve caused you. All right then, I guess I’ll go to bed now. I hope you’re not too uncomfortable on my couch.” I didn’t want to be in the other room, which seemed so far away from Marcus. I couldn’t believe how safe he made me feel. He was very good at his job.
I was a modern woman who prided herself on being self-sufficient. I was not needy, and had little tolerance for women who were. Feminist ideals aside, I reluctantly admitted to myself that knowing Marcus was here to take care of me felt good. It was new territory for me. I stood on my tiptoes and touched my lips lightly to his. He pulled me closer and took the kiss to the next level. Knowing I needed to come up for air before things passed the point of no return, I broke away.
“Good night, Marcus; and thanks again for everything.” I reached out and squeezed his hand.
“It was my pleasure, Willow. Sweet dreams.” Marcus flopped onto the couch, laced his hands behind his head, and exhaled slowly.
I felt his brown eyes following me as I headed to my bedroom, climbed into my bed, and stared into the darkness. As physically and emotionally exhausted as I was, I knew that sleep would not come easily tonight. How was I supposed to rest when the man of my dreams was sleeping on my couch?
♥♥♥♥♥♥
Sleep finally came, and when it did, it came hard. When my alarm buzzed at six o’clock the next morning, I wanted to toss it out my floor-to-ceiling window. Marcus and I took turns showering (although he assured me we could conserve water if we did it together), got dressed and ready for the day, and headed out the door by seven. We grabbed a coffee, hopped on the Max, and arrived at The Dancing Crêpe in record time.
I was more than a little nervous about the idea of Marcus hanging out with me all day long. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to spend time with him. It was quite the opposite, in fact. I enjoyed his company, but I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on my work with him close by. I wasn’t able to think clearly when he was around. I would probably be burning crêpes left and right today.
I unlocked the food truck and we both went inside. I gave him the grand tour, which lasted about a minute since the entire place was barely over two hundred square feet. Marcus told me he wanted to help, and I assured him I would put him to work.
I stepped outside to unlock the housing around my propane tank. Much to my surprise, it was standing wide open. That was puzzling, as it was unlike me to forget to lock it. I had a regimented closing routine from which I never strayed. It troubled me, but I suppose mistakes happened to everyone. I reached inside the housing and twisted the valve on the propane tank. It hissed slightly as the pressure released.
I went back inside and lit the pilot light on my griddle. Turning the knob, I heard the flame ignite. While I waited for the burner to heat, I gave Marcus a crash course on crêpe preparation. I discovered that he was a quick study.
“If you ever get tired of being a police officer, I think you could have a second career as a crêpe maker. You just might have missed your calling.” I smiled up at him and laughed at the look of deep concentration on his face. He was trying very hard no
t to mess up.
We worked side by side for the next few minutes, laughing and talking the entire time. The conversation was easy, and I found myself enjoying his company. I guess I was worried for no reason.
All at once, I started to feel lightheaded, so I grabbed the counter to steady myself. Marcus put his hand lightly on my arm, keenly aware that something was wrong. At the same time, an aroma wafted through the air, snaking its way into my nostrils. It was a stinging, pungent odor.
“Do you smell something?” I looked at Marcus for an answer, but instead of saying anything, he grabbed me, picked me up, and dove out the door. We hit the ground rolling, and my body thudded against Marcus’ as he took the brunt of the impact. He jumped to his feet quickly, and before I could figure out what was happening, Marcus picked me up and ran as fast as he could away from The Dancing Crêpe. As he ran, he yelled loudly at everyone in the nearby food trucks to run as well. In a matter of seconds, there was a frantic mob scurrying down the busy streets of Portland. When we were some distance away, Marcus set me down and turned to look behind us.
“What do you think you’re…?” But before I could finish my sentence, I heard a thundering boom and The Dancing Crêpe went up in flames. I gasped, covering my mouth to keep the screams from escaping. I dropped to my knees, painfully aware of how close I’d just come to death. I hugged my arms around my body tightly, trying to stop my pounding heart.
“Are you okay?” Marcus knelt beside me and cupped my face in his hands.
“Yes. Did everyone get away?” I was terrified that someone may have been injured.
“Most of the other trucks were empty, but the folks who were there followed along when they saw us running. I think everyone got out,” Marcus spoke calmly as he took his phone out of his pocket and dialed 911. He finished talking to the dispatcher and a strange look came over his face.