Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Three days later…

Marlowe wasn't herself anymore. She was nicer. At least, she was earnestly trying to be nicer. Slower to anger, too. More thoughtful before she spoke. And she'd turned into a clean freak.

Asher had changed, too. He slept longer and more soundly. He seemed somehow calmer for the reasonable, calm man he already was. Guess that was what ending a couple vicious terrorists did to a man.

Occasionally, Marlowe still panicked for no good reason. Like now. After dashing naked down the hall and hurriedly putting on the clean clothes she'd set out last night, she grabbed a set of sheets from the linen closet and ran back to Asher's front room and the disaster their lovemaking had turned his too-big-to-hide chaise lounge into. Hurriedly, she helped him settle on the couch while she scrambled to make the chaise lounge presentable. Off went the sheets and mattress pad they'd made love on last night. On went the new.

By then she was sweating and needed another shower.

They really needed to move their amorous activities out of his front room and into his bedroom. Only there was no resisting Asher. All he had to do was look in Marlowe's direction, and she turned into a smitten ninny. First thing in the morning and last thing at night, he was all she wanted to do. She was making him happy, and he loved her. Despite everything that had happened, he still loved her.

It turned out Asher hadn't reinjured his shoulder when he'd come to her rescue three days ago, thank heavens. The pins and screws holding his shoulder blade together were still in place. His stitches were, too. Heston took him to The TEAM hospital just to be safe, but after X-rays, Doc Fitz sent Asher home. She'd restricted him to bed rest for the next week, like that was a hardship? Hardly.

Marlowe was good at following rules. She had to be because, officially, she was a caretaker now. So when Asher gave her that sly come-hither glance of his, she went willingly to his side every time. As his caretaker, she took it upon herself to make love to him, carefully and gently and always on top. He was her patient and she was in charge, and making him smile? Best medicine ever.

But right now, her heart thumped like it wanted out of her body. She was that kind of frazzled. What if Maverick and Beau stopped by again? Doc Fitz had a key. Any minute now, any TEAM agent or wife could decide to drop in like they did yesterday and—

"Stop worrying," Asher teased. He thought this was funny?

"I'm not worried," she snapped, tucking the final sheet corner in and panting like a runaway horse. Yup. Definitely worried. What would people think if they saw that the chaise lounge was messed up again? She had to make everything look presentable, and she had to do it quickly. Before anyone popped in.

Talk about an unexpected surprise. Make that shock. Early yesterday morning, some TEAM agents had come alone, some with their wives, but some came with their entire families. At the end of the day, Marlowe had been emotionally exhausted. While she wouldn't trade it for anything, she was going to make a better impression today.

Frazzled, she dashed a hand across her sweaty forehead. Seeing all of those happy, healthy kids yesterday should have made her happy, but it had also broken her heart a little bit. Because she'd been so, so wrong about how most Americans lived. Maybe because of her crappy childhood. Maybe because of what she'd witnessed in Afghanistan. But most likely because her only role models had been two careless addicts who never should've had a child.

In general, people all over the world weren't bad. Everyone she'd met since she'd arrived back in America had gone out of their way to make her feel welcome and wanted. Not only that, but needed. Alex and Doc Fitz had both given her jobs. Harley gave her an adorable puppy. The TEAM wives gave her hugs every time they visited.

Not that Asher's hugs were second best. They weren't. But his hugs were intimate and incredibly intoxicating. His were in an entirely different, wonderful universe. The wives' hugs, on the other hand, were… hmmm, sisterly. Marlowe smiled at herself. That was the perfect word. She, an only child, the neglected, unwanted, and betrayed daughter of a very sick woman and a man who had never once looked back after he'd deserted her, now had sisters. Lots of sisters. Real sisters. Sisters by other mothers. The agents' kids all called her Aunt Marlowe or Marley or WW. How great was that? They weren't the least bit shy, and they'd hugged her, some jabbering words she'd never understand because they were just babies.

Marlowe wiped her face again, this time because her eyes were watering. She'd never been happier than she'd been yesterday, at that impromptu all-afternoon picnic. She'd never been to a picnic before, and hurriedly eating a slice of goat cheese on the side of a dusty Afghanistan road didn't count. No. TEAM picnics were now one of her favorite things.

Once he and Kelsey had arrived, Alex had ordered pizza and root beer. Everyone stayed until the sun went down. He made some kind of signal in the air with his index finger then. To Marlowe, it looked like he was telling everyone they were crazy. But they'd quickly cleaned up the picnic debris in the backyard, packed up their families, and began leaving.

The very best part? When sweet little Bradley cried, "No, Daddy. I stayin'. Wet me go. I want down," after Alex hoisted him up on his shoulder.

So Alex did, and the second his son's feet touched down, Bradley ran to Marlowe. She'd crouched to intercept him and—darn, another tear got away. He'd crashed into her, wrapped his arms around her neck, and whispered, "I wub you, Auntie Marrow. More than pizza!"

So yeah, she was sappy today, and she didn't want anything to spoil that extraordinary, very special feeling. Somehow, she'd gone from being worthless to being loved by the entire TEAM family and treasured by Asher and Bradley. Could life get any better? No way.

"Yikes! Did a car just pull into your driveway?"

"Relax, honey. Everyone knows what we've been doing."

"They do? No, they don't! How could they?" She'd showered every morning. She'd been meticulous about making that lounge clean and neat. Like now. It was back to looking like a bed. Only the pile of dirty sheets was left on the floor. She didn't have time to argue.

"Because you're glowing, your eyes are bright, your entire body is flushed, and… Yup. Whoever's in the driveway is going to know what we've been up to the minute they walk through that door."

"What?" she shrieked. That just could not happen.

"Take the old bedding to the laundry room and come sit down. Hurry."

"Okay, sure. Good idea." Not like that wasn't her plan, too. By the time she was back, Marlowe hoped he was wrong about those visitors knowing what she and Asher had done after they all left yesterday. She wasn't glowing. She was sweating. Big difference.

Heck, she didn't even know if anyone was in the driveway. Why was she worried? Might be the UPS guy with a delivery for someone across the street.

Relieved, she went easily under his arm, his good arm. After seeing him come to her rescue three days ago, Marlowe didn't think Doc Fitz would ever let this crazy, foolish, ruggedly handsome man out of her sight again. Not while Marlowe was there, and not since it was Doc Fitz's husband who'd been speeding to her rescue when he'd been T-boned.

"What can I do for you?" Marlowe asked, her mind pinging, her fingers tapping, and her eyes darting, making sure she'd snagged every unmentionable off the floor and stashed it in with the sheets.

"Relax. Kelsey called while you were in the bathroom. She's bringing our dogs over. Alex will probably be with her."

"Seriously? I'm supposed to relax? Now you tell me?" She was on her feet, frantic to make sure this house was in tip-top shape.

Until Asher pulled her back against him and stuck his nose in her neck. "Sit. Stay," he breathed, in that husky, I-want-you-now tone that never failed to send shivers up her spine. "You're among friends, Marlowe. Loyal friends who'll have your back, and their just as loyal wives. You're mine and that makes you theirs."

One touch, that was all it took and Marlowe's priorities changed. Everything became clearer. Gulping, she let her self-induced OCD attack go. Asher was right. She liked his friends, even Beau. The concept of family, though, was a total shift of paradigm. Letting go of her wretched, solitary childhood was hard. Years of neglect and being responsible for her parents, and the hard-learned lessons that went with it, were indelibly scrawled in her psyche and on her soul. They'd made her mean, defensive, and unreasonably stubborn. Add to that her insatiable compulsion to rescue helpless women, and, well…

Marlowe took another deep breath and forced her heart back to the very real fact, the one absolute in her life—Asher. She loved him with every beat of her heart. He was utterly irresistible, a god among men, and hands down, too kind for his own good. He loved her, didn't he? Yup. Too kind, too handsome, too much. She'd never deserve him, but if he was crazy enough to love her…

She shrugged again, engrossed in her self-talk. Who cared what anyone else thought? She hadn't before, and she was trying hard not to now. Stifling her need to clean house, she whispered, "Yes. You found me. You saved me. I am yours, and I'm never letting you go."

"I loved you the first time I saw you, honey," he murmured into her short hair. She'd stopped covering it up. "You're mine for keeps."

Leaning into him, pressing closer to that pleasant wall of solid pectoral muscles, Marlowe inhaled the most powerful medicine in her world, the masculine scent of her man. The panic vanished and she relaxed, listening to her favorite song—Asher's heartbeat.

"Where'd Harley put the dogs' crates?" he asked, his good hand smoothing circles on her lower back and over the itchy patchwork quilt of her still-healing scars.

"In your bedroom."

"You mean our bedroom."

She ran her fingers through his hair, mussing it up and making herself damp. Good grief, she had no control when it came to this man. "Yes, okay, our bedroom. Although, I've only been in our bedroom once when Beau showed me how to work the shower in your man-size bathroom."

"Which reminds me." Asher slipped his hand under her shirt and cupped her breast. "Tonight, we sleep in our bedroom, in our bed."

The need to tell him no, that she'd just changed the bedding on this massive chaise lounge and he should've told her sooner, was a hard beast to suppress. But sleeping with him in that huge bed of his, err, theirs ? Silly man. Did he seriously think they'd just sleep?

The doorbell rang. Darn it, Alex and Kelsey had arrived. Marlowe growled.