Chapter 17
17
Mark looked out his front window, waiting for Karen to arrive. His nerves twisted in his stomach as he waited. Glancing at the dining room table, he stared at the bouquet he’d bought for her, hoping she liked the flowers. Even though they’d already had a dinner date, it had been years since he'd felt like this—nervous, excited, and somewhat out of his depth at having a woman come to his house.
Benji was at a sleepover, and Richard had been visiting an old, retired Navy buddy in Norfolk earlier in the day and wouldn’t be back until late.
Mark spent more time getting ready for this evening than he’d care to admit, standing under the hot spray of the shower longer than usual, carefully shaving, and finally settling on dark jeans and a long-sleeved button-up shirt. He’d stared at himself in the mirror afterward, assessing. At forty, his love of running had kept him in good shape, though he couldn’t help but notice the few gray hairs beginning to pepper his short beard. They’d grown a little more noticeable lately, but something about Karen made him want to be at his best, even if she’d never said a word about appearances.
Now, standing at his front window, he chuckled to himself, feeling absurdly like a teenager. She insisted on driving to his house even though he’d offered to pick her up. “You’re cooking, so I’ll come to you.”
He’d even slipped a box of condoms into his nightstand drawer—not because he expected anything to happen tonight, but because he wanted to be prepared. Flowers and a condom— Christ, he thought, shaking his head. I’m a walking cliché.
The house was quiet, a stark contrast to when Benji was home. He smiled at the excitement Benji had for his sleepover. And now, it would just be Karen, which made his heart race even more.
He was startled when her vehicle pulled into his driveway. He immediately opened the front door and hurried over to the porch, down the steps, and to her side. He held out his hand to assist her. Whatever words he had planned to say vanished from his mind the second he saw her. She looked stunning, even in something as simple as jeans and a casual top. His gaze drifted down briefly to her feet, where she wore black ankle boots.
When his eyes traveled back up, they lingered on her jeans, which fit snugly against her hips and legs, showing off her curves in a way that made his throat dry. The light blue denim contrasted beautifully with the deep green shirt she wore, the soft fabric hugging her in all the right places, especially her waist and breasts. The color of the shirt made her eyes stand out, and although she wasn’t wearing much makeup, the minimal touch seemed to enhance the natural beauty of her face, making her eyes seem even larger and more captivating.
“Hello,” she greeted, smiling up at him.
His fingers twitched at his side, aching to reach out and touch her, to feel the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body. He had no idea what kind of fabric her shirt was made of, but it looked inviting, and he had to fight the urge to reach for her right then and there. The way she was looking at him—those eyes pinned on him with a quiet intensity—didn’t help his self-control.
Nope… don’t think about the condoms in the nightstand. “Hey,” he finally managed to say, hoping his voice didn’t betray how much he felt like an adolescent boy whose voice was cracking at the worst possible time. He cleared his throat, waving his hand toward the front of his house. “Welcome.”
Karen’s soft and radiant smile bloomed as she stepped closer. With her hand in his, they walked into the house. Her gaze moved between the living room on the left and the dining room to the right. “What lovely flowers,” she exclaimed.
“They’re for you.” He walked her toward the table. “I hope you like them.”
Her fingers lightly touched the blossoms. "These are beautiful. Thank you," she murmured.
Mark couldn’t help but watch the graceful way she moved, her hair catching the light as it cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders. When she turned back to him, he said, “Dinner is almost ready.”
“Then lead the way to the kitchen. I’ll help.”
Mark leaned down and, giving her a chance to move away, took advantage when she simply smiled and lifted on her toes. He kissed her lightly, then stepped back.
She lifted a brow as her head tilted slightly to the side. “The sweet kiss was nice, but I was hoping for something a little more… um… involved.”
He barked out a laugh. “Involved?” She laughed, and the sound hit him right in the chest. He pulled her into his arms, and she came willingly, her front plastered to his. Holding her tightly, he held her close, waiting to ensure this was the involvement she wanted.
Her fingers dragged along the back of his neck, sending tingles that stopped at his cock on their way to his toes. She lifted, and he met her halfway. Their mouths sealed, and the kiss quickly flamed bright. Her lips were soft, pliable, and oh, so sweet.
He swallowed her groan, the vibration moving through him. His tongue swept over her, and she gently sucked on it. No longer worrying about moving too fast or if she was interested, he tightened his arms around her, angled his head, and took the kiss deeper, harder, and wetter.
He was lost in her arms as the world around them faded. Barely aware of her fingers now clinging to his shoulders, he continued to plunder her mouth. The kitchen timer alarm went off, causing them both to jump, their mouths separating. They both laughed, and she settled back on her heels.
“Was that involved?”
“Oh yeah,” she breathed. “That was definitely involved.”
They linked hands, and he led her down the hall to the kitchen, where the delicious scents of dinner met them.
“Oh, that smells good,” she said. She picked up the discarded apron that had been lying on the counter. The front said, No bitchin’ in my kitchen! “I like your apron.” She laughed.
He grinned. “My dad and son got that for me last Christmas. It may have been a joke, but I use it.” Slipping on oven mitts, he bent to pull a pan from the oven. “I made a homemade chicken potpie. I hope that’s okay.”
“Absolutely. It sounds perfect and smells amazing.”
He placed a tray of rolls in the oven after setting the potpie on a hot pad on the counter. He glanced around the kitchen, finding her perusing the pictures of Benji on the refrigerator, along with a calendar. It only took a glance to see most date boxes were filled with scribbles of their activities.
“I have a refrigerator calendar, too,” she admitted.
He chuckled. “I know everyone uses their phone calendars. I have one, too, but remember, my dad is always around. There’s no way he could get used to using a digital calendar. And Benji doesn’t have a cell phone yet, so we’re old-fashioned with the paper calendar.” He shrugged and smiled. “If it works, then that’s all that matters.”
“I think there’s a comfort in seeing a calendar hanging on the refrigerator.” She shook her head. “I realize that sounds silly.”
“Not at all.”
“I know when Laura goes to college, I’ll have to go to the digital ones so when she schedules something I need to know about, I’ll have it.”
He turned and took the rolls out of the oven, and she moved over to place them in a basket. He noticed how natural it felt to have her in the kitchen and was glad she felt at home.
“God, the idea that she’ll be in college in four years makes me nuts,” she said, looking up at him.
“I can only imagine,” he said, thinking of Benji at that age.
He pulled a salad bowl from the refrigerator and placed it on the counter. “We’ll serve ourselves here if that’s okay.”
“Whatever is easiest. This dinner is a treat, no matter how it’s served. And God knows, we are anything but fancy at my house!”
“Same here,” he agreed.
Looking over her shoulder, she grinned. “Oh, a house filled with bachelors.”
“And you’ve got a house full of… um…” He suddenly stumbled on how to describe them. “Girls, women?”
Her smile widened. “Females. That’s probably the safest word.”
He dropped his chin and shook his head. “I guess you can tell I was searching for the most appropriate word.”
“Well, as long as you didn’t say a house full of broads, I think we’re good.”
He laughed and stepped closer, dropping a kiss on her lips once more. Only this time, he kept it light, not wanting to delay their dinner.
“Mmm,” she said, sucking in a deep breath before turning back to the counter. “You’re making it hard to think about food.”
He remained quiet, afraid to tell her what he was thinking about… and it wasn’t dinner. Blowing out a breath, he turned to the refrigerator. “What would you like to drink? I have tea, water, beer, and wine.”
“Wine, please.”
He poured her a glass of wine, then grabbed a beer for himself. They were soon seated at the table, and the conversation rolled along effortlessly, as it had every time he’d been with her. They talked about their kids, living on the shore, hobbies, and jobs. They even talked about their time in the military.
“Your job must be so different from working in a hospital,” he said as he leaned forward, enthralled with everything she had to say.
She nodded and smiled. “In the Army, I was assigned to a surgical team. I didn’t have a chance to connect with the patients very much. They were often anesthetized by the time they came into where I was.” She held his gaze. “I thought about working with Dr. Judith Coates in the Baytown Clinic. We had spoken, but then the ESHH job came open. I liked that it was a job where I could travel around the county. It is busy at times but also has a more laid-back feel to it. I like connecting with the patients and assessing what they need.”
“What kind of patients do you see?”
“Mostly patients who are referred coming out of the hospital or rehab. I assess their needs along with the doctor’s recommendations. Then I help coordinate the services that can be provided at their home.”
“Are you the only one who makes the home visits?”
“No, there are others, but I’m the one who goes in first. I even get a chance to help in other ways.”
Her face lit up, and he loved hearing her enthusiasm as she continued. “There’s an older man I see at the mobile home park, and two little kids live next door to him. They are so sweet, but I’m not sure they’re looked after by their mom or her boyfriend. When I visit Roscoe, I take the kids some treats and make sure they have good food. I gave them my number in case they need it because I’ve met the mom’s boyfriend.” She scrunched her nose while shaking her head. “He’s mean.”
His intuition and protectiveness kicked in. “Mean?”
“I know what you’re thinking, but I’ve asked the kids if he’s done anything to them, and they say he hasn’t. They do avoid him, which makes sense. And I don’t see any evidence of abuse or neglect. Mostly, they just seem to like to hang out with Roscoe and now look forward to my visits as well.”
Mark listened with interest, loving the smile on her face as she talked about her job. Beautiful, smart, and kind. He smiled, not wanting their conversation to end. “You mentioned traveling around the county,” he said. “I hadn’t thought about it in terms of what I do, but it’s nice to have a job where you’re not stuck in a cubicle.”
“Yes!” she nodded emphatically. “I have an office, but the door is always open, and most of the time, I’m on the phone, or computer, or meeting with my staff. And then, I get to walk outside, get in my car, and visit a patient. It feels freeing.” She tilted her head to the side as she continued to peer up at him. “You made a career switch not too long ago, too.”
“Oh yeah. A police officer or deputy’s main function is to uphold the laws. Being a detective was something that I always thought about, but I was honestly satisfied with my former job.”
“What changed?”
They had finished dessert and pushed their plates to the side. She leaned forward and faced him, resting her elbow on the table, her head resting in her palm. He stared into her eyes, feeling the warmth fill him. Her sincere interest in him shone through, also providing warmth that swirled around them.
Mark shrugged. “Nothing really changed… not like a major life event. Colt had been after me for a while to prepare for and take the detective test. I knew I could do the job, but I still held back for some reason. I remember one night, Benji and I were watching a movie… age-appropriate, of course,” he added, and she laughed. “But there was a detective, and Benji asked me what they did. We started talking about it, and I explained the difference between that job and what I was doing. He didn’t say anything in particular but just listened. And then he said, ‘That sounds like a really cool job. You’d be good at that.’ Then he looked back at the TV for a moment before turning to me again and saying, ‘You think I could be a detective when I grow up?’”
Chuckling, he shook his head while still holding her gaze. “It was weird… Benji didn’t care what job I had. Hell, he loved my deputy uniform. But somehow, hearing him say that I’d be good at it and that he thought about how he’d love it… I don’t know, Karen. I suddenly felt like I wanted to go for it. I was thirty-eight years old at the time, but I went for it. And after passing the detective exam, it felt like some more pieces of my life clicked together.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he winced at how he must have sounded.
Her head lifted from her hand, and her eyes widened. “Oh God, Mark… yes. I get it! Pieces click together.” Her hand slid over the top of the table and landed on his before she wrapped her fingers tightly. “After Jeffrey died, I felt like I was either going through the motions of just living or was making changes because of what had to happen for the girls. However, when I took the job at ESHH and changed my working environment —even though I was still a nurse—it was just like a click. Something that moved me forward.”
Nodding, he turned his hand up so that their fingers linked. “You do get it.”
They stared for a long moment, the world still turning but not existing for either. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to do a lot more than kiss. He wanted to claim this woman who had slid into his subconscious and now was firmly entrenched in his conscious thoughts. Unable to speak what he was thinking, he simply held her hand, wondering if she felt an inkling of what was filling his mind. Her gaze appeared full of what he thought was hope.
“Do you want to go upstairs?” he whispered.
Her chest depressed as a sudden intake moved past her lips. Nodding slowly, she said, “Yeah. Absolutely. More than you can know.” Her lips twitched, then curved until her smile beamed.
Once again, he felt her warmth. Standing, he held her hand, and she stood with him. Leaving the table with dishes still around, he walked backward, and she followed. He halted at the bottom of the stairs and looked at her, wanting to be sure she was ready for this step in their relationship. He dipped his head to stare into her eyes. “Are you sure? I need you to be sure.”
Her tongue darted out to moisten her lip, then she nodded. “Oh yeah, I’m sure.”
With that, he turned and hurried up the stairs with her hand still in his. And his smile was as wide as hers.