Marco (The Men of Indecent Exposure #1) (21 page)

That damn Naseem. He had to have something to do with it.

I still hadn’t gotten an explanation as to why he was even here, but he had to be connected to the problem somehow. It made sense.

“Your friend?” I asked in a clipped tone. “What the hell did he do?”

Her eyes followed me as I stood, remembering the waiting room I passed on my way in, the one where he currently sat. Depending on what she said, I might be paying him a visit.

Brynn took a breath. “Marco… calm down,” she said in an even-keel voice. “He didn’t do anything,” she explained.

Feeling her fingers encircle my wrist, I stared down on her, still not sitting until I knew for certain he didn’t deserve for me to lay hands on him.

“We were talking,” she went on, “and things just got… heated, but I already wasn’t feeling the greatest to begin with, so this really isn’t his fault. I just let the conversation upset me more than I should have.”

What had this dude said that bothered her so much?

“Sit. Please?” Brynn said sweetly, bringing my blood down from a boil to a simmer. Not wanting to get her pressure high again, I sat like she asked. She still had a gentle grip on my wrist, but I eased out of it slowly so I could take her hand.

“We had words,” she explained. “When I felt myself getting angry, I should’ve hung up, but I was mad and wanted to get my point across. I just—” There was a pause and I watched her, wondering if she was trying to sugarcoat this so I wouldn’t go out there and handle this guy.

“I’m still trying to figure out what the argument was about,” I cut in, hoping she would be honest with me.

At first, she was just quiet, which I assumed meant she wasn’t going to answer, but then she did, saying words I didn’t expect to hear. “It was about us. The argument was about you and I.”

My eyebrow quirked.

“Lately, he’s been asking questions about where you and I stand.”

The look he gave, the tension I felt, all made more sense now. If Brynn had told him how things were evolving, he probably didn’t like that. “So, what happened? He started yelling at you because he didn’t like what you had to say?”

Again, I had to remember to lower my voice.

Brynn let out a breath. “I didn’t even get to respond. Right after he fired off at me, the contractions started and… then I ended up here.”

Damn, was he really that soft? She hadn’t even gotten to tell him what was up and he was already throwing a fit?

This is why I can’t stand pussy-actin’ dudes. Always in their damn feelings…

Brynn looked away and I wanted to know what she was thinking. She sighed, zoning out when she spoke again. “Part of me wishes I could’ve just said it, you know? I wish I could’ve just told him the truth to end all the confusion.”

My ears perked up at her words, mostly because, whatever she might’ve confessed to Naseem, was even a mystery to
me.
Yes, we kissed. Yes, I could tell she was feeling me just as much as I was feeling her, but we hadn’t discussed any of it. So, now that she brought it up, I was curious, too.

“The truth,” I started, noticing how the anger that possessed me only a moment ago had now given way to something else, something softer, which was always the case with her. “I’d be interested in hearing it myself?”

I smiled a little and she mirrored it with a shy one as she fidgeted with the device the doctors clipped to her finger. Another heavy breath left her lips and I leaned back in my seat.

To my surprise, she let a quiet, airy laugh slip out despite clearly being nervous. But what surprised me even more was what she said next. It was a short, simple statement, but it hit me square in the heart all the same: “I think I’m really starting to like you.”

A rush of energy shot through me, made me feel more alert, more awake. And it was all because of her confession. The way she said it, the way she worded it was so innocent, reminding me of what it felt like to have a crush on a girl—like back in the day before it got to be about lust or sex or any of that. Back when it was just about connecting with someone.

Damn… maybe that’s what this was. We were crushing on each other.

Looking down, I shook my head, smiling at the irony. Here we were, two adults, expecting our first child together, experiencing emotions we both probably thought we’d moved past in our teens.

“I like you, too,” I said back, kind of mocking her, but speaking words of truth at the same time.

I
did
like her.

A lot.

I felt somewhat better having gotten to the bottom of things, but I’d feel even better getting to keep an eye on her for a little while. So, feeling bold all of a sudden, I blurted, “Stay with me. Tonight. After they release you. Then I’ll take you in to get checked out by your doctor in the morning.”

I expected a protest following the invitation to stay over, expected one-hundred and one excuses as to why she couldn’t, but none of that ever happened. Instead, she nodded, grinning at me when she answered, “Okay.”

I smiled back. “Okay.”

My eyes went to her lips when she drew the bottom one into her mouth and I was reminded of doing that very same thing to those lips about a week ago. The moment was interrupted by a light knock at the door. When the person didn’t enter right away, Brynn called out to invite them in.

Naseem laid eyes on me first when he entered, next shifting them to Brynn, and finally settling on her fingers interlocked with mine. Whatever questions she wasn’t able to answer for him earlier, they were answered now as he observed us and I watched as the realization hit him.

When he looked away, he tried to be casual, clearing his throat before addressing Brynn. “I uh… I just didn’t want to leave without letting you know,” he said quietly. “So… this is me letting you know.”

Brynn nodded, but her expression stayed vague. She also didn’t bother trying to pull her hand free from mine. I liked that, liked knowing that she wasn’t into playing games.

“Thank you for meeting me down here,” she replied.

Naseem nodded, now watching his shoes as he stood in the middle of the room with his hands tucked inside the pockets of his slacks. “Yeah… well… I just wanted to make sure you were all right and I didn’t want you waiting here alone.”

Brynn nodded and the words, “I appreciate that,” concluded what she had to say to him.

Yeah, things were definitely tense between them.

He glanced at her one last time before leaving. Knowing how their earlier conversation had gone, I imagined they’d have a lot to discuss once things cooled off; about their friendship, about us, and that was understandable. However, if this happened again, if he got her worked up and I had to bring her back to this hospital… Naseem wouldn’t like how it ended.

Brynn

We spent the better part of the afternoon at the hospital. I got through to make an appointment to see my doctor in the morning while we waited, so the physician on call felt comfortable sending me home. A nurse finally came in to release me just as the sun set.

Marco stopped by my house so I could grab a bag of my things and then he brought me here, to
his
place. I couldn’t believe I actually agreed to this, but honestly? There was no doubt in my mind that I was in good hands.

Our drive ended in the driveway of a beautiful, brick home. It was large enough for an entire family to fill it up, but Marco lived here alone. It wasn’t overly lavish, just more than I imagined a single man needed.

He cut off the engine and reached to the backseat to grab my belongings. In the process, his body pressed against the side of mine and I couldn’t help but to gawk at him, the way the muscle and veins running along the side of his neck became more pronounced as he reached for my bag. There wasn’t anything about him I didn’t like. Not a single thing. His every move, every word, drew me deeper into him.

By the time he sat upright again, I’d looked straight ahead, pretending to only be ogling his house and not him.

“Ready?” he asked, none the wiser.

I nodded. “Yep.”

I didn’t move from my seat when he climbed out, knowing the routine. In his presence, I wasn’t to touch a single door. I thanked him when he helped me from the passenger seat and then followed him up the walkway. He unlocked the front door, reached in to flip on the light and of course, let me enter first.

Stepping into the foyer, I gazed up to the second floor. It was open other than a wooden banister overlooking the lower-level. I came out of my shoes and felt the cool, Spanish tile beneath my feet. My eyes followed the pattern through to the kitchen—large pieces the shade of warm amber, offset by the presence of the occasional, smaller tile in vibrant royal blue.

Warm. That word summed his place up from what I could see, standing there as I soaked in the details of my surroundings. A hint of sandalwood scented the air—a rustic, and yet gentle, aroma I picked up on right away. Everything appeared to be clean and in its place without him even knowing he’d have company today. Apparently, this was just how he lived. Not your typical bachelor pad.

Looking around, I realized that very few things about him were ever what I expected. He’d been surprising me a lot these past months. Whatever I
thought
I knew about him, thought I figured out, he shot down those assumptions and it blew me away. His outer appearance—one that would lead most to believe he was kind of rough around the edges—definitely didn’t tell the whole story. This man was complex… and I looked forward to peeling back all his layers.

“Make yourself at home,” he said with a smile, passing with my bag in hand as he walked toward the steps. He went up, disappearing down a hallway to the right. Slowly, I made my way around the first floor, exploring further because he said it was okay.

His mantle was full of family pictures. I smiled at the one of him and Izzy. It looked like they were at an amusement park and he was most likely spoiling her like I watched him do at his parents’ house.

I moved down the line to one of his sisters, all grinning and showing off the tattoos he’d told me the story about. Further down, there was one of his parents posing out in front of their home as they stood beside a for sale sign with a SOLD sticker across it. He had all their moments showcased here and it told me one thing: he was proud of them, proud of where he came from.

The next image I came across intrigued me. It was of Marco and a group of guys –all races, all very different, but I could tell they were close even in this picture.

“Find anything good?”

I jumped at the sound of Marco’s voice, placing a hand on my chest right after. He laughed, realizing he scared me, and so did I.

“I was just looking at your photos,” I explained, turning back to the one of him in the group. “These your friends?” I asked.

He nodded and came closer. In the brief pause before he answered my question, I watched his lips.

“Carlos. Justin. Logan,” he replied, pointing as he named the brood. They were all just as ripped as he was, all attractive. “We work together,” he added.

That didn’t surprise me, seeing as how they were all covered in tattoos. The only one who didn’t have any visible was the one he pointed out as Justin. I suppose it wasn’t a requirement for a tattoo artist to be covered in them, but that was usually the case. The thought made me curious as to how many more Marco had that I hadn’t seen. The only ink visible with his clothes on was what I’d seen on his arm and wrist.

“You hungry?” he asked, staring at the remote in his hand while finding something to play on the stereo.

“Umm… sure. What do you have?”

He rambled off a list. “
Carne frita con cebolla, surullitos
, and some fruit, too, I think.”

I pretended not to be turned on hearing him speak Spanish… even if he was only talking about food. Didn’t matter. Just the way it rolled off his tongue in that rough tone of his.

When I didn’t speak, he explained. “Ma made it. I sent Luce a text to let her know you weren’t feeling well and I’d be bringing you back here, so she dropped this off a little while ago.”

Fidgeting with the charm on my necklace, I reminded myself to blink. “Oh… that was nice of her. Sounds good.”

With a half-smile that sent a jolt through the center of my chest, he left me, headed for the kitchen to prepare our plates. It didn’t take him long to heat them up. In no time, I was seated at his kitchen table indulging in his mother’s good cooking. With nothing but the bowl of cereal I asked for at the hospital on my stomach, it was a miracle I didn’t just inhale the entire plate. Marco hadn’t eaten anything either, so we both finished pretty quickly.

Afterward, he straightened up and washed the dishes we dirtied, refusing to let me lift a finger. So, I sat there with my feet propped up like he insisted, watching water ripple across the surface of his pool just beyond the deck outside. When he finished, he set me up with the TV remote and left me on the couch while he disappeared upstairs. He had something to do and said it wouldn’t take long.

I channel surfed, but nothing held my interest. It was just as well, though, because Marco came back down ten minutes later and I was all ears when he spoke four simple words through a smile: “Do you trust me?”

My initial reaction was to laugh, and then I answered honestly. “That all depends.”

He laughed, too, but didn’t elaborate. The remote was slipped from my hand and placed on the coffee table after turning off the television. I didn’t know what to think when I was led up to the second floor and the distinct scent of melon filled the air. A doorway off to the right emitted a faint, orange glow—that of flickering candles.

Marco’s hand went to the small of my back and he gently moved me forward, reaching around to open the door the rest of the way. The bath was filled to the brim with suds and a plethora of oils and scrubs lined the edge. When I peered over at Marco with a questioning look, he laughed.

“Okay, two things. Number one: I swear all this stuff is mine. These aren’t things some other girl left here, so don’t even think it. I’m just a firm believer in a man enjoying a nice bath every once in a while.” He paused when I laughed. “Number two: I don’t have a hidden agenda. All I want is for you to relax.”

I glared at him playfully, but then turned to look at all the trouble he’d gone through for me. It was a sweet gesture and he totally got points for it.

“So, get in and get comfortable,” he said before casually adding, “I’ll be back.”

I chuckled again, cocking my head to the side. “You’ll be back?” I asked, jumping to conclusions about what he had in mind. “What happened to you not having an agenda?”

One corner of his mouth tugged up into a smile and he put his hands up, struggling to look innocent with a body that screamed
‘Do nasty things to me’
. And those eyes; I was sure they undressed me every time we were together.

“Serious. I’m just gonna come scrub your back. I swear,” was his promise.

Narrowing my eyes in suspicion, the smile Marco gave didn’t make me believe him any more than I already did. “Cross my heart,” he added, making the motion over the
right
side of his chest with his finger instead of the left.

I tilted my head and corrected him. “That’s the wrong side.”

He grinned again, backing out of the room slowly as he explained. “I know, but this way it won’t be a lie when I don’t keep my word.”

He closed the door as I cracked up at him, feeling that same giddiness that ended with a kiss last time. Who knows, maybe tonight would end on the same note.

*****

Marco

“You all set?” I called through the door. It’d been about ten minutes or so since I left her to settle in.

“Yeah, you can come in,” she answered.

The sound of water lapping against the sides of the tub had me imagining her naked beneath the suds as I entered. It took everything in me not to gawk, but I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable. This really was just about pampering her, nothing else. She deserved it. I couldn’t even begin to imagine all the changes her body had gone through. And after what happened today, she needed to unwind.

“Is the water warm enough?” I asked, unfastening my watch so it wouldn’t get wet. She clocked my every move, releasing a deep breath while I waited for a response.

A nod came before she spoke. “It’s perfect.”

I grinned at her, keeping it to myself that I’d spent part of the time I was up here googling whether it was even safe for a pregnant woman to soak in a tub at
all
.

A wide grin spread across her face as I crossed the floor, coming toward the tub.

“What?” I asked, smiling back. The expression was contagious.

Her eyes drifted down to the suds. “Umm… I’m probably gonna need a towel when I finish in here.”

I glanced over toward the rack where I was sure I’d left a white one laid out already, but it wasn’t there now. The sound of a devious giggle had me turning toward Brynn again.

“I took that one to cover myself with,” she confessed.

Now I looked harder, seeing less brown flesh beneath the suds than I should’ve. Her slick, preemptive strike made it impossible to get even a glimpse of the goods. But it was cool. Like I said, this wasn’t a set up. In fact, I put extra bubble bath in her water on purpose, just so she could sink beneath them where I couldn’t see anything.

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” I teased.

She pretended to give the statement some thought. “Mmm… maybe a little.”

I loved her smile. She was so damn beautiful.

The cloth I set out was still on the edge of the tub, so I bent to take it, setting it right back down when I realized I’d forgotten to remove my shirt. To avoid getting it wet, I pulled it over my head and set it on the counter beside the watch I’d taken off. When I faced the tub again, Brynn was watching me like a hawk, her full, sexy lips parted as she stared. The moment she realized I caught her, she ditched the expression. I let her think I didn’t see her lusting, but she was. She definitely was.

“Your uh… your back,” she stammered, referring to the large tattoo she saw, I assumed. “That’s… it’s nice,” she said just above a whisper.

Grabbing a fresh bar of soap from the cabinet, I tried not to laugh at how flustered she was. “Thank you. I’ve had it a few years.”

I approached the edge of the tub and held it while dropping down to my knees.

Long lashes fluttered downward, tracking me as I got close. There was more sexual tension between us than I realized. We were both wound tight because of it, making me wonder what would happen if we just…
snapped
, gave in to the feeling.

The back of my hand grazed her thigh when I reached beneath the water to soak the cloth. It was intentional. I had to touch her somehow. Her eyes drifted up to meet mine again.

“Lean up,” I requested and she complied. The drenched towel she’d tucked beneath her arms clung to her firm breasts, hiding them from me like it was meant to do.