Marcun

by Sadie Carter

  “I came across him lying on the ground, the stinger a few feet away. It is the path you take. He told me what happened.”

  She nodded. That made sense.

  “I warned him against retaliation then followed to make certain he did not attempt to get to you.”

  A sense of safety stole over her. He was watching out for her. Nobody ever paid that much attention to her. Oh, her mother loved her. In her own way, but most of the time she focussed on herself, on what Eden could do for her or how what Eden did affected her. And Barry, hell, he wouldn’t have cared if she was attacked.

  So why did Marcun?

  “I have to admit I’m surprised you care that much about my safety. We’ve only known each other a few days.” Was that all? “You shouldn’t have followed him, what if he’d seen you? Hurt you? What if he decides to come after you as well?”

  Great. Now she wouldn’t be just worrying about herself but him as well.

  He gave her a look of disbelief and she had the feeling she’d offended him.

  “I can take care of myself.”

  Sure, he was big and muscular. But that wouldn’t matter if this guy came after him with a gun. Or a knife. She didn’t even know if Marcun could fight. He was kind of naïve about some things; maybe he didn’t realize how dangerous this man could be.

  “He could get a gun and shoot us.”

  Marcun frowned. “Perhaps we need weapons.”

  Okay, that wasn’t the answer she was looking for. She shook her head. “I’m not going back to see Rodney. He’s scary and a creep. Eddie, I can deal with. He’s harmless and he’s addicted to my chocolate eclairs. But Rodney, he’s next-level criminal.”

  “Next level?”

  “Rumor is he cuts out the tongues of anyone who betrays him.”

  Marcun’s eyes widened. Finally, he was getting it. “And what does he do with the tongues? Black magic?”

  Okay, so he was missing the point. “I don’t think he does anything with the tongues. Or maybe he keeps them. I don’t know, it’s not the point. We can’t get more weapons from Rodney. And anyway, I don’t want more. I can’t believe I got us into this mess. Now you’re in danger too,” she ended with a wail. To her embarrassment tears dripped down her face.

  “Do not cry.”

  “I can’t s-stop,” she sobbed.

  “You must. I command it.”

  “You can’t command someone to stop crying.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because emotions don’t work like that.” She wiped at her streaming cheeks. She needed to get herself under control; this was beyond humiliating.

  “Then how can we make it stop?” There was real panic in his voice.

  “You could give me a hug.” Shit. Why the hell had she said that? “D-don’t worry, I—” The rest of her words were smothered by his chest as he squished her against him. His arms wrapped around her, immovable bands of steel. Crap, she couldn’t breathe. Hell, she’d survived being attacked only to be smothered to death by a well-meaning hug.

  She moved her head to the side. Better, but the pressure of his arms around her chest was making it difficult to take a full breath.

  “Marcun … can’t breathe. Marcun!”

  “What?” He leaned back. “You have stopped crying.” He smiled and for a moment her heart stopped. That smile, it turned him from gorgeous to absolutely breath-taking.

  “Don’t do that,” she told him.

  “Do what?”

  “Smile.”

  “I hardly ever smile.”

  “Exactly. It just … it’s …” Too sexy? Too distracting? “It’s just too much.”

  “What?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She wrapped her arms around herself, tears welled again. Jesus, Eden, don’t start again.

  “You are not crying again?” There was horror in his voice.

  “Typical man. Can’t handle a few tears. I’m just scared and stressed, okay? I think with everything that has happened that I am entitled to a few tears.”

  “I do not know why you are scared. I warned the male off. He will not be back. And I am here.”

  He was here. It shouldn’t have made her feel better. He wasn’t with her all the time. And she didn’t even know if he could protect himself let alone her as well.

  “This isn’t your problem. But thank you anyway. Maybe he won’t be back.”

  “He won’t.”

  She wished she could be as confident. Her whole body began to shake. She stared down at her knees as she attempted to stop the trembling.

  “I can’t seem to stop shaking,” she told him. “I don’t know what is wrong with me.

  Some weird reaction.”

  “Shock,” he told her. “You’re not used to battle.”

  She puzzled over those words. “It wasn’t a battle.”

  “It was a threat,” he told her. “One you fought off alone. You did well.”

  She had? Because she thought she was an utter failure.

  “You were right,” she told him. “If there had been more than one person, if he’d been more aggressive or sneakier about how he approached me, then I may not have been able to protect myself.”

  “You shouldn’t have to protect yourself, your mate should do it.”

  “Barry?” she asked incredulously. “Even if Barry was here he still wouldn’t protect me.” The idea was laughable.

  “What sort of male is he?”

  “The worst kind. The asshole, selfish kind.”

  The shaking grew worse. “Umm, you can go do some work now, I’m fine.” Sure she was. She was pretty sure she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. But she was feeling completely and utterly humiliated and she just wanted to be left alone.

  “You are not fine. You are shaking. And crying.”

  “Yeah. But I’ll be fine soon.”

  “Do you need another hug?”

  Yes. No. “Can you do it with less, ah, pressure?”

  She should have said no. But right now, she needed some reassurance. She needed someone to tell her it was all going to be okay. Yeah, she knew she was thirty-two, that she shouldn’t need someone to chase away the boogeymen. A hug wasn’t going to make everything magically better.

  But it was a start.

  He pulled her in against him, wrapping his arms around her in a much gentler embrace. She sighed, sinking in close. A sense of safety immediately stole over her. The shaking gradually eased and her tears dried.

  And that’s when she noticed it. Kind of hard to miss. But she guessed she’d been too stressed to pay attention before.

  She pulled her face away from his chest and looked up at him. “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “You are better?”

  “Yes. I am. I feel calmer. I guess there’s nothing much I can do other than be careful and wait to see if anything happens.”

  He stepped farther back.

  “Um, Marcun? I don’t want you to take this the wrong way. I really don’t want to insult you, but when is the last time you washed your shirt?”

  7

  “It’s not that bad,” she told him.

  “It is a place of nightmares.” He shuddered.

  Oh, for goodness sake. Drama queen much?

  “We’ll be quick. In and out.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not going in.”

  Eden sighed. “You’re being a big baby.”

  That got her the death stare. “I am not acting like a child.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, a stubborn look crossing his face. “It does not matter what insults you give me. I will not do it.”

  “I need you to come with me.”

  His eye twitched.

  She’d decided that maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy. Yeah, his social skills could use some work. All right, a lot of work. But he was a straight shooter and that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Most people told little white lies to spare other people’s feelings. Like when sh
e’d asked him to dinner last night. A white lie instead of an outright no would have made her feel better, but it didn’t mean he was wrong just to say no.

  It just wasn’t what she was used to.

  What was wrong was wearing the same shirt for several days without washing it. If she hadn’t needed that hug she didn’t think she could have stood being that close to him.

  “Marcun, we’ve come all this way. You can’t turn away now.”

  “You promised me brownie.”

  “And Gus is whipping you up a batch. By the time we return to the bakery it will be ready.”

  He looked skeptical. She had to bite her lip to keep from pointing out that he was a grown man and she was having to bribe him with sweet treats.

  Just like a child.

  “You come in and I’ll buy you a treat,” she offered.

  He looked down at her, and she got the feeling he was considering the offer. He stiffened his shoulders. “What sort of treat?”

  Honestly. She rolled her eyes. “A big one, okay? Jeez Louise, anyone would think you hadn’t been shopping before.”

  “I have shopped plenty. But not in a place such as this.”

  “It’s a Walmart not a prison or torture chamber.” Although with his reaction, she wasn’t certain he wouldn’t prefer a bit of torture. “People have been shopping at Walmarts’ for hundreds of years without any problems. I promise. We’ll go in, buy you a couple of shirts, then leave. It will be over in ten minutes. Fifteen tops.”

  “Why do I need new shirts? I have two.”

  “Because you stink,” she told him bluntly. “Two shirts aren’t enough.” Especially when he didn’t seem that fond of doing laundry. Speaking of which, she glanced down at his legs. “Maybe we need to get you some more pants and underwear too.”

  “Underwear?”

  “Yeah, you know, the things you wear under your pants.”

  “I do not wear anything under these pants.”

  Ookay then. That, she did not need to know. Now all she could think about was him going commando.

  “Never?”

  “Why would I? Would it not mean more clothes to launder?”

  “Yes, but you don’t do laundry, do you? Come on.” She moved forward and quickly realized he wasn’t beside her. Turning, she rested her hands on her hips as she gave him an impatient look. “Do I need to drag you inside?”

  He gave her that flat, cold look, the one that said he’d like to see her try. Yeah, she knew she couldn’t actually do it, but if he didn’t get a move on she was going to give it a shot.

  “Can you not go inside while I wait here for you?”

  “No, because I don’t know what size you are.”

  “Big.”

  God give her strength. “Yes, I know you are big. But we need to get the right size.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? So it fits you properly.”

  “If it covers me and the buttons do up then it fits.”

  She tapped her foot. There were dozens of jobs she could be doing right now. She should be at the bakery, helping, although Gus had told her to take a break and not return until tomorrow. Sometimes he forgot that she was the boss, but he’d been with her since the start so she forgave him. He was almost as invested in the bakery as she was.

  Still, there was paperwork to be done, supplies to be ordered, bills to worry over.

  Instead she was here, trying to convince a large, smelly, stubborn man to come shopping for a few items of clothing. And he was acting like she was asking him to walk through hot coals.

  “Are you shy? Is that it? Because I promise I won’t look while you are trying things on.” He just raised his eyebrows. Yeah, she didn’t think that was the problem. “If it’s the money, I’m perfectly willing to—”

  “Cost is not the issue,” he told her coldly.

  She felt like she owed him for his help, for warning off that guy, bringing her the stinger, holding her while she cried. While she didn’t feel completely safe, she felt a hell of a lot better than she had a few hours ago. Of course, part of that was because he was with her. Something about him just made her feel safe.

  “Then what is the problem?”

  “I do not like shopping.”

  “Lots of people don’t. That’s why they invented online shopping, so you could do it from the comfort of your own home.” She walked back and grabbed his arm, dragging him along behind her. Although she knew the only reason he moved is because he chose to.

  “Then why do we not do that?”

  “Because you need something to wear now. We don’t have time to wait for something to be shipped. And we don’t know what size to order.”

  She didn’t point out that they could tell his size from the shirts he currently had. If he hadn’t thought of it she wasn’t telling him. They were here now. They were going in.

  He let out a long-suffering sigh.

  “You could show a little gratitude. Nobody will want to get close to you smelling as pungent as you do.” She was starting to get irritated. Try to do something nice for him and all he did was moan. Maybe she should just leave him in his stinky clothes. There was no way he’d attract female companionship in filthy clothes.

  She looked up at him and wasn’t so sure. A woman would forgive a lot to have a hunk like him focused on her, paying attention to her, touching her.

  Jesus, what was wrong with her? Even dressed in an outfit that had definitely seen better days and smelling less than pleasant, she’d still jump at the chance to touch him.

  They entered the front doors of Walmart and he stiffened.

  Oh crap, she was losing him.

  She wrapped her arm around his, holding him trapped against her. “Come on, just a little further. You can do it. You’re being so brave.”

  The look he gave her could have frozen lava. She bit her lip to stop from laughing. He was too cute.

  Jesus, Eden. Stop.

  He’s not interested in you. Stop lusting after him before you embarrass yourself.

  She led him over to the men’s clothing. His narrowed gaze moved over their surroundings, as though he expected to be attacked at any moment. She got it. Shopping wasn’t everyone’s idea of fun. But what did he think was going to happen? That the little old lady with the cane was suddenly going to turn into some ninja and break out into some kick-ass Kung Fu?

  She took a chance and let him go as they reached the T-shirts.

  “No.” He tugged on her arm.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I like buttons.”

  “Okay.” She shrugged and moved to the shirts. She grabbed a couple that she thought would fit. One in blue to match his eyes. Hm, the maroon might suit too. Finally, she had four suitable shirts. She turned to find he’d done some shopping of his own. He held three shirts. One was a disgusting shade that was neither yellow nor brown.

  She grabbed it from him and put it back. “No.”

  The next one had a palm tree print.

  “Also, no. Unless you have a trip to Hawaii planned I don’t know about.” He shook his head. “I didn’t think so. I know what you get paid and you can’t afford it.”

  The third shirt didn’t look so bad. It was kind of a dark green. She drew it from his hands and turned to look at the back.

  She groaned and put it on the rack. “How do you manage to find the ugliest shirts in the store?”

  “You have something against trees and leaves?”

  “Hawaiian shirts belong in Hawaii or fancy-dress parties. And that is not just any leaf.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Seriously. He wasn’t that naïve, was he? She grabbed the shirt and turned it around. “It’s a Marijuana leaf. You know, the stuff people smoke to get high.”

  “Then why is it on a shirt?”

  “Because some people like it. Now, go try these on while I try to find you some jeans.”

  Ten minutes later, they had four more shirts and two pairs of pants—h
e hadn’t liked the jeans—and were standing in line waiting to be served.

  “What is that?” he asked, pointing to the woman in front of them.

  Eden turned to him, her eyes wide and shook her head.

  He frowned slightly then turned back to stare at the woman’s buttocks. She had baggy jeans that hung halfway down her ass and looked like they’d been attacked by a hyperactive fairy with a penchant for glitter and access to a glue gun.

  Eden felt her cheeks growing red and she looked around to make sure no one was staring at them.

  She nudged him. “Stop looking,” she whispered. Anger stirred. She could not believe he was checking out another woman’s ass while she was standing right here.

  “If she did not want anyone to look then she should cover it up.”

  She hit the palm of her hand against her forehead. Somebody save her now.

  “Hey, are you staring at my ass?” a woman asked.

  She froze as she heard the question. Please don’t be talking to them. Please don’t be talking to them.

  She pulled her hand away from her face to find the woman staring daggers at them. She chewed her gum then blew a bubble. It grew out from her face, purple and grotesque, before popping suddenly like a balloon stuck with a pin. She drew the gum back into her mouth to resume her cow-like munching.

  Munch. Munch. Munch.

  “Is that a threat?” Marcun asked in a low voice.

  She looked up at him incredulously. What was he doing?

  The woman flicked her greasy, pinkish-green hair over her shoulder then crossed her arms over her ample breasts. Her chest was impressive and she wasn’t shy about displaying it. Even Eden found it hard to draw her gaze away from the impressive mounds that were barely tamed by a bright pink bra. She knew it was bright pink because the white sleeveless top the woman wore over it was see-through. She had baggy jeans that hung halfway down her ass and looked like they’d been attacked by a hyperactive fairy with a penchant for glitter and access to a glue gun.

  “It is if you were checking out my ass,” she snapped back at him. “What do you think you were doin’?”