Mark (In the Company of Snipers Book 2) Read Online Free

the tray along. “I’ll be working for an outfit that specializes in security for federal agencies. I start with them the same week that I out-process from the Corps.”
    “Sounds interesting. What’s the job about?”
    “They’ll keep me busy with surveillance, bodyguard duties, and things like that.”
    “It’s a good thing you’ve already got a job lined up. There are too many guys coming home from the service who can’t find one these days.”
    “Yes, sir, that’s what I thought. It’s good money. Worth a try.”
    “Where will you be working? Anywhere nearby? Chicago? Minneapolis?” Jerry’s brows peaked at the options he had just presented.
    Mark caught the hopeful tone in his voice. “I’ll be working for a company called The TEAM. They’re located back east in Alexandria, Virginia.”
    “Darn. That’s too bad.” Jerry pursed his lips. “I was hoping you’d settle down around here. Last time you were here, it struck me you were a farm kid.”
    “Dad.” Faith scowled at her father and then shot another smile to Mark. “Leave him alone. He’s trying to eat.”
    Jerry shrugged. “I’m just making conversation.”
    “Actually, I did grow up on a farm,” Mark offered with his mouth half-full. “My family is in Ohio, so yes. Guess I’m a farm boy at heart.”
    “See?” Jerry smirked at Faith. “I was right, and you was wrong.”
    Faith blushed, and Mark looked away. He didn’t want to encourage her.
    For the rest of the meal, the table conversation remained on light and easy topics. Before long, Mark was well fed and planning a polite exit strategy. He’d eaten too much, but as good as everything tasted, he was not about to overstay his welcome. Libby hadn’t said another word to him, not like she had spoken much to anyone else either. Despite her need for his comfort at the airport, she didn’t seem to need him now.
    Rosemary foiled his plan when she brought a frosted can of homemade ice cream to the table. Libby followed with steaming apple pie while Faith and Marie cleared the dishes. Mark stood to help, but Libby pushed him back into his chair with a gentle shove to his shoulder blade.
    “You’re our guest,” she declared quietly. “You don’t get to help. You only get to eat. Besides, there are enough of us girls to clean up.”
    “But your family’s been too kind. Let me at least help with dishes.” He tried to stand again, but her hand hadn’t moved.
    “We have a dishwasher. Eat your pie.” She sounded stern as she slipped a plate of steaming apple pie in front of him. The delicious fragrance of nutmeg and cinnamon assaulted his nose in a very good way. He breathed it in, closing his eyes as the mental comfort of it took him instantly back to another table when his mother was alive. For a nanosecond, he was just a carefree kid again instead of a battle-weary Marine. He was loved and cared about. When he glanced up at Libby, she stood watching him with a funny glimmer in her eye, the ice cream scoop in her hand suspended above his slice of pie.
    “Say when?” she asked, her eyes alight with tenderness.
    When . His heart responded quickly, but that’s not what she had meant. He recovered the use of his brain. “One scoop will be fine. Then I need to get going.”
    “Why?” She cocked her head, waiting on his answer.
    “Because your family’s been too kind and—”
    Rosemary handed him a new fork and a fresh cup of coffee. She winked at him like she knew exactly what he was trying and failing miserably to do.
    “I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” he said.
    “You men. Always leaving. Never staying.” Libby shook her head. Covering his pie with three scoops of fresh homemade vanilla ice cream didn’t help his exit plan, but neither did the stern expression on her face. “Shut up, Mark. Eat your pie.”
    So he did. The evening had taken a sudden turn for the better. She was talking to him.
    After dessert, the family moved to the cool of the porch, and