by Nicole Helm
She found a bag of some weird-looking pasta. Easy enough. He didn’t have canned spaghetti sauce on hand, but she could probably make some herself.
So much better than thinking about Dad or the pain in her face.
Keys jangled in the lock, then the knob turned. Marc stepped inside and frowned. “I told you to lock the chain.”
“That’s a terrible greeting.”
“Tess.”
“Marc.”
He sighed then gave her a puzzled look. “What are you doing?”
She looked at the pot she’d gotten out. “I’m making dinner.”
His lips curved, just a hint, and then without taking off his boots or his utility belt—which she was pretty sure was sacrilege in his crazy clean and tidy world—he walked right over to her and kissed her.
Gently. So gently. She almost wanted to cry, but they’d had more than enough of that. Probably had more than enough ahead of them.
“That hurt?” he asked, his voice a whisper against her mouth, his fingers brushing over her shoulder as if she was delicate. Fragile.
She wasn’t supposed to want that. It went against everything she stood for as a strong, capable woman. But Marc made it feel like love, not some diminishment of her strength.
“No, it didn’t hurt.”
“Good.” He looked at her empty pot and grinned. “You’re good to come home to.”
“Well, I’m losing my marbles from being home all day, but that wasn’t a bad way to be greeted, I have to say.”
“Stumpf is going to get your keys tonight. He’s going to call me once he gets them and we can go get your car. Or I can. Up to you.”
“Thanks.” She leaned into him, because as she’d said last night, she was letting herself lean a little. “So, how was your day?”
He stiffened, even though the somewhat pleasant smile remained on his face.
“Shit liar, remember?”
He scratched a hand over his hair. “I...punched Granger.”
“What?” she screeched, pulling back from her leaning. “You punched him?”
“I know. It was...bad. But he was there this morning, being a dick. I lost my temper. Pushed him. Captain caught us, then I punched him.” He held himself so tense and so rigid, as if he’d done something wrong and was about to be punished.
Which didn’t make any sense at all. “I’m so, so, so jealous.”
He expelled a weird breath—almost like a laugh. “You’ll likely get a chance.” He shifted so they were facing each other, his hands on her shoulders, that serious expression he used so much—too much, really—on his face.
“I know he deserved it.”
“I did it basically in front of the captain. In uniform.”
“Oh.” Oh. And over her, no less. That was not good. To put it lightly. “Write-up?”
He pursed his lips and nodded. “Franks was fair. More than, really. I think he knows Granger’s got something up his ass, but still, it’s... I’ve never been written up before. I’ve never done anything wrong in uniform before.”
“There’s a first time for everything?” she offered weakly, and then leaned her good cheek against his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t know why you’d be sorry, Tess.”
“Because I’m not stupid and I know you’d only hit him if he said something gross about me.”
Marc didn’t respond, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know that this is worse, but the situation keeps getting...more. More everything.”
“Well, I’m sorry for adding to it.”
“You know what? No. We’re both done being sorry.” She looked up at him, trying to keep her face angled enough so he wasn’t staring at the nasty bruises. “We haven’t done anything wrong. Granger and my dad are the assholes.”
She wanted him to smile, but he didn’t. Not even the slightest curl to his lips. “It’s going to be okay,” he finally said, so seriously, so resolutely that she wanted to believe him. Willed herself to believe him.
But there was the little fact that going back to work was going to be far more complicated than she’d ever wanted her work to be. “I’ve never dreaded going there. Not once in ten years.” She leaned against his chest, because it was a solid place to lean.
“Don’t think about it yet.” He ran his hand over her hair. She was a little overemotional from all the upheaval of the past day or two, but she wanted to believe this thing between them could last. They could get through whatever work would be like once she went back, they could deal with the jokes and innuendo, they could deal with figuring out how they could have something serious.
God, if she was going to lose her reputation, she was at the very least getting Marc out of the deal.
“So, what were you planning on making for dinner?”
She shook away the thoughts of a future that was just too uncertain. “Hey, I can cook. I just choose not to cook froufrou diet food.”
“Uh-huh. What’s on the menu?”
“Pasta and tomato sauce?”
“Oh, Tess.” He shook his head, all adorable and clucky. “I’ll cook. Let me shower and change.” He brushed a kiss against her temple and stepped out of the tiny kitchen.
“Everyone knows, don’t they?”
He paused, and she couldn’t see his face to make out his expression, but she knew. Oh, she knew. And she knew what was next. The dread at going back dug deeper. Embarrassment over her father was one thing, but all the crap she’d have to take now...
Then Marc turned. “I think you underestimate some of them. They respect you, Tess. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, and we all know Granger’s a dick, but Captain said...” He drew his hand over his mouth, expression pained the way it always got when he was searching for the right words.
Marc was always on the search for the right words. Sometimes she wished he’d just give her honest ones, even if they sucked.
“He said that you’re the best officer he’s ever had, and that you remind him of his daughter. He hoped you were well. The fact that he cares is important, Tess. It’ll protect you some.”
Tess swallowed at the lump in her throat. Captain thought of her as a daughter? That was...a little too much. Considering what she knew. “His daughter died.”
“What?”
“My first year. His daughter died in a car accident.” She blinked at the stinging in her eyes, cleared her throat. “I was the one who told him. He...” She’d never told anyone that Franks had cried on her shoulder, even though who could blame him? His seventeen-year-old daughter had died.
She’d cried herself, and offered an awkward hug to a man who was her superior when she’d only been a few months off field training. She’d known he’d appreciated it, that it was part of the reason he’d been somewhat easy on her when it came to stuff with her father, but she’d never known she’d reminded him of his daughter.
“See, Tess. It’s things like that. You know these people—you’ve made them your friends. I’m not saying a few won’t be assholes. They will, it’s inevitable, but mostly you have an entire department that knows exactly what you do for them—or what you would do for them.”
She looked up into his sincere expression. She was emotionally wrung out all over again, but there were good things leftover from this one. Even though it was painful, even though it was sad, it was good, too.
There were good things left. A lot of good things. “I’m making pasta with tomato sauce, and you can’t stop me.”
A corner of his mouth quirked. “All right, you’re the boss.”
She didn’t feel much like the boss, but she did at least feel some equilibrium.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WATCHING TESS WINCE after she laughed was two parts comforting and two parts painful.
She’d made her terrible pasta à la tomato sauce and had only allowed him to contribute a salad. But she was smiling and laughing and conversation had been light.
Except for all the wincing.
“If that’s not better tomorrow...” He trailed off because he had no idea how to finish that sentence. What was he going to do? Force her to go to the hospital?
Yes, you should. You absolutely should.
She glanced at the clock. “It’s fine. I can take some more ibuprofen in a half hour. A nice bruise always hurts worse the second day.”
He wanted to say something else. Something a shade angrier, but someone knocked on his door. Sure, Stumpf had said he’d call first when he retrieved Tess’s keys, but maybe he’d gotten busy and forgotten.
Marc stood and went over to the door. When he looked through the peephole, he thought about pretending they weren’t here. “It’s, uh, my sister.”
“Oh, you want me to...” She nodded toward the bedroom door.
He knew he shouldn’t want Tess to disappear, but he did. He didn’t want to figure out how to introduce her to Leah, how to explain things had changed. Perhaps even more, he didn’t want Tess watching his interactions with Leah and...interpreting things.
“You want me to go.” She slid off the chair, and though he supposed she was trying to act unaffected, she was angry. Or worse, hurt.
“No, it’s fine.” He pulled open the door, determined not be the one hurting Tess.
“Hey, bro.” Leah wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, that sounds terrible. I just wanted to see if—” For the first time her gaze caught on Tess standing next to the little table in the corner.
“Sorry.” Leah’s brows drew together before Tess turned the injured side of her face away. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No, no interruption. In fact, I have a phone call to make. Don’t go. I’ll make myself scarce.” She was already heading for the bedroom by the time she said the last words.
The door closed quietly and Marc looked down at Leah, having no idea what he was supposed to do. Part of him wanted to go after Tess, but he couldn’t leave Leah standing here.
“Normally I’d leave anyway,” Leah said, not budging from the entry to his door. “But I need to talk to you and it’s hard enough to escape Mom’s clutches once. Twice will be impossible. At least if I want Jacob to keep speaking to me.”
Marc still didn’t say anything, but he stepped out of the doorway and let Leah in.
For needing to talk to him, she didn’t say anything at first. She stood in the middle of his living room, looking hard at where Tess had gone.
“Is she okay?” she finally asked, her gaze meeting his.
He wasn’t sure what he should say, so he just gave Leah the truth. “She was attacked.”
“Badly?”
“Just...her face.” He scrubbed his hands over his own. “Jesus. As if that makes it less terrible.”
“I know too many women who’ve had to go through that.” Leah let out a gusty sigh. “Shit, the world kind of sucks. Every time you think your own problems are bad, you get a little perspective, huh?”
Marc wasn’t sure he’d had time for perspective, but he understood Leah’s meaning all the same.
“Your crap’s pretty bad too.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“A faulty heart is nothing to screw around with.”
“Don’t I know it, but it’s not faulty anymore.” She tapped a palm to her chest. “Healthy as a horse. Minus the asthma. And the allergies.”
He almost smiled at that. Sometimes he forgot how much he liked Leah. Not just because she was his sister and because he had to, but because she was honest. Forthright. She didn’t hide from her feelings.
Not the way he did.
Uncomfortable topic. Time to move on. “So, what brings you here?”
“Remember that party I told you about? The spring potluck thing that’s tomorrow night? Come.” Leah glanced at where Tess had gone again. “She looked pretty comfortable here.”
Marc only offered a nod.
“Oh, don’t go all silent on me. Mom was practically giddy at some pretty girl being in your apartment for dinner the other night. You’re seeing her.”
Again, he nodded, which caused her to scowl, which almost made him smile. Because she was interested and pushing and it was...new. Nice.
“Bring her. It’ll be something normal and fun to do, and, trust me, no one will say anything about her face. Not in that group.”
“Will Mom and Dad be there?”
She hesitated, but finally nodded. “Yes.”
“You so sure Mom won’t say something about her face?”
“Maybe it’d be good for Boss Lady to feel like someone is overzealously interested in her and her eligibility for marrying a crazy person’s son.”
“Her name is Tess,” Marc said, shifting uncomfortably. This was all so weird. Talking about Tess as if she wasn’t in the next room. Words like marrying. “And I think the only marriage Mom cares about is yours.”
Leah lifted her hand, hesitated, then rested it on his elbow. “They kind of suck at seeing us. The real us. But we both kind of suck at showing the real us, I think. So, I just...” She dropped her hand then tugged at her ponytail. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but give them a bit more to go on.”
“Are you telling me to cut them some slack?” It was too ridiculous to be offended by. Not all that long ago he’d been telling Leah the same, only not quite so nicely.
She scrunched up her nose. “Hard to believe, huh? Can’t say I expected to be doing that about four months ago.”
“Yeah, me, either.”
“I hate having to contemplate all this weird stuff we have between us, but the fact of the matter is we’re all going to be living in the same town soon, and we might as well be happy about it. You have to give them something. Something of you. Or things keep being the same. I know, unfortunately, some of why Mom and I get along better is because of Jacob being in my life. But it’s also because we spent some time together and opened up a little. You’ve barely seen them.”
“They’ve barely asked. And I’ll remind you, I’ve spent plenty of time with them in my thirty-two years.”
“Give them a reason to ask, Marc.” She looked at him plaintively, which he couldn’t remember ever seeing from Leah. “I know they haven’t made a lot of effort to see you on this visit, but they think they owe me some making up for lost time, and they think you understand that. Tell them you don’t. Tell them you’re upset about the ring, which Jacob refused, by the way. Nothing can change when you’re pretending like this. Trust me. I know.”
He didn’t know how to argue with that, even if he didn’t agree with it. He couldn’t combat the strange bubble of hope rising up inside of him, making him wonder if Leah could possibly be right. He just needed to give them something to go on and they’d be able to...not treat him like nothing.
“I’ll...come.”
“Ask Boss—er, Tess, too. Okay?”
“I will.” If Tess wasn’t too angry at his pause over her not meeting Leah. “She may not want to, but I’ll ask.” Maybe it would be good for her, for them. After all, they didn’t need to pretend anymore. Everyone at work knew. “And I’ll let you know.”
Leah smiled and when he moved toward her she stepped back. “I already told you. No hugs.”
“Oh, now you did it. I have to hug you. Obnoxious older brother prerogative.”
She held out her hands in protest. “Don’t touch me, Creepo McGee.”
“I’m going to hug you, Leah. You’re my own flesh and blood.”
She grimaced but put her hands down, and he gave her a quick, if a little awkward, squeeze.
She shuddered. “Bleh. So weird.”
“Family, Leah.”
“Don’t care. Weird.” She stepped toward the door, but stopped. “Thanks, though. You’re a good brother.”
He didn’t feel like one. Even moving here and all he’d done, it had been for his parents, not for Leah.
“I know someone who went through something similar to Tess. I don’t know if she’d want to talk about it, but if Tess needs someone to talk to, I can ask.”
“Thanks.” He took a deep breath, attempted to let some of his gratitude actually show through. “Really, thanks.”
“Anytime, bro.” She shook her head. “Yeah, I really can’t pull that off. I should go. Let me know about the party.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t know that he particularly wanted to go, but it didn’t feel right to say no. Maybe it would be good for Tess and him to be around people who weren’t their coworkers. Feel at least temporarily that things could be normal.
If he could smooth things over. No, not if. He would smooth things over because they loved each other. There were things they both kept to themselves, kept separate. Her father. His family. They both just needed to accept it. And they would, and it would be good.
* * *
“YOU DIDN’T HAVE to disappear.”
Tess looked up at Marc standing in his bedroom doorway. His expression was blank. For all the support and comfort and damn sweetness he’d offered her the past few weeks, that expression was getting increasingly...frustrating.
It made her feel as though there were always things he’d shut out. Always things he’d pretend didn’t bother him or weren’t important. It made her feel as though she were on open display, but he was under lock and key.
Imbalanced. As though he had all the power. She didn’t like that feeling at all.
“Sorry. I don’t really feel like being around people when my face looks like this. Besides, you didn’t want to introduce us. I’m not going to force you.”