Marco (The Men of Indecent Exposure #1) (18 page)

We went back inside and ate dessert with his family. No one brought my drama back up except for Izzy, or Bel as the family called her, and Marco was sweet about telling her not to keep asking questions. She complied with a smile and turned her attention elsewhere.

I don’t know if they were just trying to be nice or what, but there was no judgment from the Rios family whatsoever once my business was out. They were only concerned with getting to know me and asking questions about the baby. The first meeting went so much smoother than I could’ve ever hoped.

“It was so,” Mrs. Rios paused to plant a kiss on my cheek as we hugged, “good to finally meet you!”

“Thank you for having me over,” I answered, matching her smile and enthusiasm.

Izzy came to hug me next and I squeezed her tight. Stooping to her height, I touched her cheek, letting it sink in that I missed my students like crazy. “Be good for me, okay, Izzy?”

She nodded hard and her arms went around my neck in a second bear-hug that nearly knocked me over. I laughed and so did she, both of us ignoring Marco’s gentle warning for her to be careful with me.

“Will I see you again soon?” Izzy asked, her words going into my hair as she held on to me.

I nodded and assured her she would. After asking her to tell her classmates that I missed them, Marco and I were on our way. The car ride was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. There was just a lot on both our minds, but overall, it was a good night.

We turned into my driveway and I yawned, reaching for the handle to let myself out.

“I’m coming around,” Marco spoke up as he climbed out first.

Like I’d done when we left earlier, I watched him round the back of the car. The door unlatched and a hand was offered to help me to my feet, but, to my surprise, he didn’t let it go like I expected once I was standing. When he’d walked me to his parents’ door with my hand in his, I assumed it was just his way of letting me know he had my back. But now…
what was his reason for holding on?

Our steps were slow as we approached my porch. Marco watched closely as I ascended, making sure I didn’t hurt myself as usual. I smiled a little, wondering if he sat at home worrying I’d shatter into a thousand pieces somewhere without him watching over me. He noticed the expression and smiled, too.

“What’s that about?” he asked, bringing my eyes to his as we stood in the darkness, reminding me I’d forgotten to leave my porch light on.

I shook my head, laughing a little. “I’m just wondering how you’re going to keep from giving yourself a heart attack when I go into labor if you’re already this worried about me.”

His smile grew and his thumb aimlessly caressed the back of my hand. “Promise I’ll keep it together. I’m gonna be strong for you,” he added.

The smile on my face was once fueled by amusement, but now it was contentment. He made me feel… I don’t know…
safe
. Whenever I was with him it was like I was his number one concern. Nothing had his attention more than I did—not other people, not his phone, not work.

Me.

The feeling was addictive, so I had to be careful not to let it go to my head, keeping things in perspective. He was protective of me by default because I carried precious cargo.

His head leaned to the side as he studied my face. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

I recalled the warmth and respect his family had shown throughout the evening. “I did. Thank you so much for inviting me.”

Giving a nod, he licked his lips—a subconscious action that stole all of my attention. “Thank you for coming,” he said.

Clutching my keys, I opened the screen and unlocked the door. When I turned to face Marco again, there was this look I couldn’t place. He was thinking long and hard about something and the intensity of the expression made my heart race.
What was going through his head?

“Well… goodnight,” I stated breathily.

“Night,” he said back as his heavy stare cut through me.

One foot touched the wood inside my house and I was sure I’d imagined the energy shifting between us, but then my hand was taken and those doubts were slowly erased.

My gaze fell on him again when I looked back and held my breath, waiting for him to speak.

“Can I get a hug?” he asked, posing the question innocently, but it was hard to interpret
anything
concerning him as innocent.

My eyes widened at the request he made, but not because I was offended or put off by it, but because I was surprised he wanted that, surprised
I
wanted that… but I did. Things were changing rapidly. Into what, I wasn’t sure. But they were.

If someone had asked me months ago how I saw this all playing out, this would not have been it. There had been so much animosity between the two of us in the beginning; resentment, distrust. But now those things had been destroyed by the understanding and mutual respect we had for one another. I no longer viewed Marco as some deadbeat who would shirk his parental responsibilities the first chance he got. Initially, yes, that was my impression of him, but lately? He’d been there every step of the way.

I finally nodded my head, but said nothing—a silent response to his question. With permission, Marco drew me back in his direction by my hand and I stood in front of him. Air rushed over my lip as I breathed hard. A hug wasn’t a big deal when it was shared between most people, but for Marco and I, it was a huge step. A huge step that made me question the deeper meaning behind it.

My mind went blank again when the firmness of his chest pressed against the softness of mine. I was shamelessly aware of how sexy he was. Yes, physically, but even his touch, the way he held me, his presence. My arms instinctively went around his neck and I breathed him in deep, the traces of cologne left behind after the long day. He didn’t squeeze hard because he was ever-mindful of my condition, but the feel of his arms around me… he had me swooning.

After a few seconds, I leaned away, but didn’t leave his embrace. The change in temperature when the night air touched my face where Marco’s skin had just warmed it made me even more aware of him, of how he affected me. My eyes naturally wandered to find his, but, as fate would have it, I turned just as he craned his neck to place a kiss on my cheek in parting. The end result was his lips catching the corner of my mouth. The unexpected contact made him ease back and we both froze, staring one another down.

I gazed up, shocked, dazed. Our arms were still around one another and I couldn’t make mine loosen no matter how hard I tried. It was like I was stuck; like the accidental kiss made my limbs malfunction.

Marco’s hands moved down my body, gravitating toward my lower back where he gently drew me in closer. That safety I feel when he’s around shrouded my entire body and I felt untouchable. Without being able to stop what was happening, or maybe not
wanting
to stop what was happening, my eyes slowly drifted closed and I felt myself leaning into him. I gave in as the heat of his breath cascaded over my mouth. Soft lips hesitantly brushed mine again and my spine arched at the feel of the almost-kiss. His teasing was unintentional, but it fed this hunger inside of me that seemed to show up out of nowhere.

Short, velvety strands passed through my fingers as I ran them up the back of Marco’s head. At the feel of me silently inviting him to take what he wanted, he tilted his head and kissed me again—this time on purpose. The sensation of my lips being sucked and lightly nipped at by his teeth could be felt all the way down in my toes. I parted my mouth and he gave me his tongue, gently gliding it over my own in sensual rhythm, making me ache in unmentionable places.

A suppressed memory from the night we met seeped into my subconscious when the kiss unlocked it. As if we were still sealed inside that cramped bathroom stall, I could feel the warm flesh of Marco’s exposed hips grinding between my legs, pulsating rapidly as he penetrated deep.

Envisioning that made everything real; the imagery became too much, jarring me from the haze I’d slipped into. I retreated, slowing the kiss first so it wouldn’t feel like I pulled away. My lips were damp, warm, and feeling deprived already, although I’d just separated them from Marco’s. Staring intently at my mouth, he ran his thumb along my jaw and I let my eyes close, fighting the lure to kiss him one more time.

The only way I could keep from getting caught again was to take a step back, so that’s what I did. Marco looked me over for a moment as I tried to compose myself. The corner of his mouth tugged upward into a smile and, despite myself, despite how this encounter had blindsided me, I smiled back.

He pushed a hand behind his head while gathering his thoughts. “I’ll uh… I’ll check in on you tomorrow. To go over the insurance stuff,” he clarified, clamping his bottom lip between his teeth right after. Slowly, he backed away. As he did, his eyes scanned my body and I felt the heat of his stare.

I nodded and sucked in a breath to answer, damn-near fangirling over him. “Okay.”

He descended the steps after that, glancing over his shoulder twice and I observed a hint of a smile when our eyes locked. As I stepped inside my house, I fought the urge to squeal and grin. Watching from my living room window as he backed out of my driveway, I weighed the good and the bad, ultimately deciding to ignore the bad because that kiss was… wow, it was
everything
.

I went through my usual nightly routine with a smile on my face the entire time and I accepted a few things as I climbed into bed.

One: I didn’t regret kissing Marco.

Two: our attraction to one another was strong, then and now. It’d been the thing that landed us in this predicament in the first place.

And the third thing was something that couldn’t be stopped even if I wanted to: I was beginning to
really
like him. God help me, but… I was. I was falling for the last person on Earth I ever imagined I would. Rushing whatever this was, or wasn’t, turning into would be a mistake, but there definitely seemed to be new possible outcomes opening up.

I lie there thinking about that, wondering if I was just on an emotional high from the kiss, talking out the side of my neck, but my head was clear. I saw things for exactly what they were; Marco and I had finally become friends. However, our budding friendship had been forged by a powerful bond and, because of that, I was left with the feeling that anything could happen from here. Either way, I was open to the possibility of it being more if that’s what it developed into.

A smile touched my lips and I let that sink in.

Yeah… I was definitely open to it.

Marco

Marcela happily obliged when I volunteered to take Bel to school; however, I knew she’d have questions regarding what my intentions might be. While I always loved spending time with my niece and didn’t need an excuse to do so, I admit it; I did have ulterior motives.

Bel kissed her mother goodbye while I stood waiting on the front porch of the small, two-bedroom home I rented to my sister eight months ago. I would’ve let her live here free of charge, but Marcela insisted on the three-hundred dollars she paid me on the first of every month along with her other bills. I cashed her checks like she asked me to, but what she
didn’t
know was that I stashed the money in a savings account for her and Bel. Whenever they were ready to buy their first home, she’d have a healthy down payment waiting for her.

“
Buenos dias, Tio!
” Bel chirped as she hugged me tight around my waist.

“Good morning,” I said back, bending to kiss her cheek before she raced to my truck. Marcela and I both watched her climb into the backseat while we spoke to one another, the calm expressions on our faces contrasting the clipped tone she used the very next second when lighting into me through clenched teeth.

“I know why you’re doing this,” she hissed.

I smirked and shoved my hands in my pockets, still looking toward the driveway. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m simply giving you a break by taking my niece to school this morning. It’s not the first time.”

“No,” Marcela countered, “but I know what you’re planning to do. After last night? I know you, Marco,” she added, referencing the incident at dinner with Izzy revealing what the staff at St. Ann’s had done to Brynn.

When I didn’t respond she exhaled a sharp breath, probably stabbing me with a look at the same time. “I freakin’ knew it!” she accused, scolding me again.

Now I faced her, wanting to make sure she was listening. “You know I can’t let this go.” And I couldn’t. Contract or
no
contract, Brynn didn’t deserve what happened to her. I couldn’t just let that slide without speaking to the person responsible. It just wasn’t in me to keep my mouth shut on things like this.

Marcela let out a long breath and I glanced over while she thought. She knew it was hard for me to let stuff like this go. Maybe it was because I’d been judged hard and often over the years, but I hated these types of situations; hated when people were looked down on by others for choices they made. We’ve all done our share of dirt, which means no one can rightfully point fingers at anyone but themselves.

My sister folded her arms over her chest and stared out toward the street in a daze. “What’re you gonna say?” she asked.

There wasn’t much of a plan in place, so, “Not sure,” was the only answer I could give as I shrugged. “I just know I can’t let this go. I have to speak up for her.”

It almost broke me last night when she told me how they’d done her. And the fact that she’d been holding this in and wasn’t saying anything… I can only imagine how stressful that’s been.

Marcela stood there a moment and I half expected her to try to talk me out of it, but that didn’t happen. Instead she asked a question. “You really care about her, don’t you?”

I smiled a little, knowing this was coming eventually. I had never been one to bring women home, mostly because it’d been a long time since I was serious enough about one to do so. My family was bound to notice that Brynn was different for me. Although, our circumstances were mostly the reason I brought her by last night, baby or not, I had a feeling that, if Brynn and I had met in some other way, I probably would’ve still decided to bring her home to meet my folks one day.

I gave a nod, responding to Marcela’s question. “She’s good people.”

Last night had ended on a much different note than I imagined it would. Kissing Brynn, feeling things shift between us. A friendship was the only thing we agreed to build and work on; the extra emotions developing between us… that wasn’t something either of us planned on. It was just happening.

Slow, steady, natural.

Marcela smiled when I zoned out thinking about the woman who now occupied so much of my time and attention.

“Mmm hmm. I know what that means,” she concluded, adding her two cents in conclusion. “You
do
like her.”

I didn’t bother denying it.

There was a long pause that Marcela interrupted when she started back toward her door, heading inside so she could get ready for class. I couldn’t tell if she was upset or not, but if I had to guess, she was mostly concerned, if not solely concerned, I’d make her and Bel look bad by going up there and acting a fool. That wasn’t my intention, though. All I wanted to do was stand up for Brynn.

“Text me later and let me know how it goes,” she called out without looking back. The next second the door closed and my focus was again on getting Bel to school on time. After that, Headmaster Turner and I had some business to discuss.

*****

“Remember,
Abuelita’s
gonna be here to pick you up later,” I said, reminding Bel of her after-school arrangements.

“I know,” she answered, the soft tone of her tiny voice making me smile. Glittery, purple shoes that matched her backpack touched the sidewalk and lit up when I helped her out of the truck. When I closed the door behind her, her brown eyes lifted toward me. “You don’t have to walk me in, you know. I’m a big girl now.”

I smiled again and took her hand. “You’re definitely a big girl,” I assured her, “but I want to hang out with you for as long as I can. All the way to your classroom. Is that all right with you?”

Her ponytail bobbed when she gave a big nod.

Marcela had raised her to be so independent. While I know she would’ve preferred for Bel’s father to stick around, she’d done a great job with her all on her own. Thinking about it, I acknowledged my own situation. There was no way in hell I’d let my child go through life without knowing me. As soon as I had confirmation that she was mine, Brynn would’ve had a hard time keeping me away. Bel’s father wasn’t cut like that, though. He had no desire to be in Marcela’s or Bel’s life, but hopefully, between my dad and I, Bel had never felt the void of being fatherless. I’d always do whatever I could to make sure she wanted for nothing.

She led the way because I had no clue where her classroom was. The other times I brought her, I would just let her out at the end of the walkway and watch until she was inside the building like Marcela instructed me to do. Finger paintings and posters splashed color on the otherwise plain setting. The halls were far quieter than I expected, too—compared to those of the public school I attended as a kid. St. Ann’s prided themselves on the good behavior of their student body, though. They enforced the rules heavily from what I heard. Apparently, that extended to their staff as well. At the thought of how they’d done Brynn, my free hand tightened into a fist as we slowed our pace.

The new teacher met us at the door of Bel’s classroom wearing a smile for my niece. “Good morning, Isobel!” she chirped. Bel didn’t respond or smile back and I recalled her saying she didn’t particularly care for the woman. For that reason, I didn’t correct the behavior or force her to speak, although I was sure, as the adult, I probably should have.

Bel turned to walk in and take her seat, but I stopped her.

“Hey, forgetting something?” I called out, gaining her attention. When she doubled back, I crouched down low to match her height. The big hug I gave her was reciprocated with a tight squeeze around my neck.

“I love you. Be good.”

She giggled into my ear at the absurd statement. “I’m
always
good, silly,” she countered.

I kissed her forehead. “You’re absolutely right.”

As I stood straight again, Bel hurried over to her seat. I watched until she got settled in with a sheet of paper and her pencil on the table in front of her, talking and laughing with the girl beside her. I turned from the door and backtracked toward the front of the school where I hoped to have a talk with Turner.

Marcela’s concerns came to mind again, but I didn’t plan to cause any trouble. All I wanted was to gain an understanding as to how Turner, or anyone else, justified what they’d done to Brynn. As far as I was concerned, our situation wasn’t anyone’s business but ours.

Period.

Damn the contract.

The hallway was starting to clear as a warning bell sounded and the stragglers picked up the pace. I didn’t quite have what I wanted to say nailed down, but it was probably best that way. I’d give this man a chance to speak his piece and we’d go from there.

There were two offices directly across from one another—one marked
‘Main’
and the other
‘Administrative’.
The main office was where I expected to find Turner and the second I walked through the door, I felt the vibe of the woman seated there—middle-aged, looked like she forgot how to smile a long time ago. She eyed the tattoos on my arm first with a long, hard stare and then she finally found my face. There was no attempt whatsoever at hiding the judgment she passed on me long before I even spoken a single word. In my line of work, I’d been on the receiving end of that look enough times to recognize it and be numb to it.

“May I help you?” she asked in a dry tone.

I rested my elbows on the high counter separating the waiting area from the three wooden desks behind it. “Good mornin’,” I said first, using my manners, although she hadn’t done the same. “I need to speak to Turner. He in?” I asked, nodding in the direction of the closed door with the man’s nameplate mounted beside it.

Her vacant expression didn’t change as she glanced down at her computer screen again, returning to whatever task she was engaged in before I entered. Apparently, I didn’t deserve her full attention.

“May I ask what this is in regards to?” was her next question; however, I had no intentions on giving her much more information than I already had.

“It’s a personal matter,” I answered, earning myself a hard look from the woman when she quickly whipped her head my way. “Now, is he in or what? I’m pressed for time.” I added, glancing down at my watch.

She was listening now… and mad, too, from the looks of it.

Before she had a chance to respond, the very door I’d been staring at swung open and a tall, dark-haired man stepped out, clutching a folder beneath his arm. He handed it off to the woman acting as gatekeeper and then glanced up at me. When he smiled and I didn’t, he turned to his secretary, possibly picking up on the tension in room.

“Jean, uh… has this gentleman been helped?” Turner asked.

The lady, Jean, cut her eyes at me again. “He’s asked to see you,” she answered.

I was still in shock that this was the guy I was looking for. In my head, he was supposed to be
much
older—head full of gray hair, wrinkled with cataracts. I assumed as much because, again, in my head, someone old-fashioned enough,
primitive
enough, to fire a woman because she’s pregnant and unmarried had to be ancient. But that wasn’t the case. If I had to guess, he was in his late thirties, early forties.

“Do we have an appointment?” he asked, speaking to me again. His tone was polite and I got the impression he was a little confused about why I looked so upset, but he’d know soon enough.

“We don’t, but it’s urgent,” I assured him.

He glanced down at his secretary and then up at me. “Well, I uh… I don’t have anything pressing to do at the moment, so please, come on in,” he offered, gesturing for me to enter his office.

I rounded the counter and glared at the secretary before passing Turner at his door. He closed it behind us and offered me a seat. I took it and then watched him take his own, holding the striped necktie he wore to his chest as he lowered.

“So, what can I do for you today, Mr…”

“Rios,” I replied.

“Ah, ok. What can I do for you today, Mr. Rios?” he repeated.

Tension spread across my shoulders and I focused on the pictures that lined his desk—one of a kid posing in a soccer uniform, another of him and a blonde I assumed was his wife, another of a young girl about the same age as Bel.

I looked at those pictures and wondered if he was the one person on Earth who’d done everything right. That had to be the case in order for him to come down so hard on Brynn. Turner must’ve done everything by the book. There were no hiccups or shortcomings to speak of. That was all a bunch of bull, but I had a feeling this guy thought at
least
this highly of himself. The bottom line is that we all come from different places in life. My normal might not look like the next guys’, but that’s okay. Well, it
should
be anyway. But it’s people like Turner who make it their point to shame those whose normal doesn’t mirror their own.