Marco (The Men of Indecent Exposure #1) (29 page)

…No.

But all I said in response to Mona’s question was, “I’m not sure.”

I lowered my head and thought on it more. Marco was a good person. His occupation had no bearings on that. I even got
why
he danced—his family needed him and that stage gave him an opportunity to make a lot of cash quickly, so they never had to want for anything. I understood that. I
respected
that, but… did that mean I was ready to take all that on myself?

Mona nudged me and smiled dimly, bringing me out of my thoughts. “We don’t have to talk about it,” she concluded. “Just tell me about your night.”

Her attempt at switching the topic, her attempt at making the conversation lighter, was a failed one. The damage had already been done. There was no way I’d tell her the intimate details of my night knowing she’d be secretly side-eyeing me for entertaining the thought of being with Marco. I wasn’t mad at her; I just didn’t want to pretend like I wasn’t aware of the fact that she wasn’t on board with my decision to explore things with him.

I faked a smile and shrugged, giving her nothing more than a vague, “I had a nice time.”

I think she knew I didn’t want to share anything other than that, because she didn’t push. Normally, we would’ve sat here half the afternoon going back and forth about it, but not today. Actually, for the first time ever, I felt like I’d be better off keeping something from my best friend. She wouldn’t hear anything else about it.

Now I was uncomfortable and I couldn’t remember the last time I felt that way around her.

Things were changing so fast. The
people
in my life were changing so fast. It was hard to keep up. Between the drama with Naseem and I, me losing my job, finding out what Marco does for a living, and now Mona.

It felt like I’d been constantly on the verge of losing someone or something since finding out I was pregnant and that was something I didn’t expect.

I would’ve asked ‘
What’s next? What else could possibly go wrong?’
but I dared not temp fate. Things couldn’t always be like this. There had to be a bright spot, a silver lining somewhere.

Had to be.

Marco

Being subtle wasn’t something anyone in my family had ever been good at, so it didn’t surprise me when I got calls from two of my three sisters and my mother damn-near demanding that I bring Brynn with me to Sunday dinner. They loved her, especially my mother, and I couldn’t blame them. It was hard to ignore how well she fit into my life.

Ma asked me to bring Brynn early this week to help her in the kitchen and Brynn happily agreed. I sat off to the side at the table enjoying the music playing on the small radio on the counter, watching with a smile on my face as the two chopped vegetables together. They carried on about the baby, about cooking, and anything else they could think of, practically forgetting I was even in the room. Having them get along was something like perfect.

As I watched them, I couldn’t help but to notice how Brynn’s stomach seemed to stand out a little more every time I saw her. She carried it so well. It was hard to believe that, in a few months, we’d be parents.
Together
. And to think, we’d gone from barely getting along to this being the closest thing I’d had to a real relationship in years.

She was all I ever thought about, she was the only woman who got any of my time, and I couldn’t get enough of being around her. In the week since she came to the club, we saw each other just about every day—even if only for an hour during my lunchbreak, just because. I made it a point to make sure there wasn’t anything physical going on when we got together; we just hung out. Nothing more than that.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want more, wasn’t that I hadn’t enjoyed that side of our relationship, it was something else. As much as I hated to admit it, Elena’s words had gotten to me. Hearing her harsh generalization about the type of man I was had me looking deeper at myself. She said it would be hard for a woman to take me seriously, and the only woman whose impression of me I cared about at the moment was Brynn. So, for that reason, I wanted to make sure that
whatever
we became, she knew it had nothing to do with what I stood to gain from it physically. There was so much more to like about her than her body.

…
although, I loved that, too.

I just wanted to make sure she knew there was more on my mind than just sex. Her conversation was on point, her laugh was infectious, and I got a rush just holding her in my arms. Most days those things were enough. Sex with her was… indescribable… yes, but I admit to intentionally limiting how often we did it so she wouldn’t think I was shallow.

Doing what I do for a living tends to give people the impression that dancers are some oversexed, out of control breed of humans who are only motivated by one thing and one thing only. I, for one, happen to know that couldn’t be further from the truth. I wasn’t like that and neither were the people I associated with. Did I have a past and many women in it? Yes, but that wasn’t because I couldn’t control myself. That was because I was single and didn’t have any reason to be limited.

Until now.

Until her.

Brynn made me want to be settled. She made me hate how much I worked. She made me feel like being next to her was better than any-damn-thing I could possibly find to do with my time. My eyes went to her as she rinsed a pepper in the sink and what I saw in her was a future.

My future.

“Is that your phone ringing?”

My mother’s voice pulled me from my daydream and I took my cell from the pocket of my shirt. Glancing at the screen, I didn’t recognize the number, but answered anyway. The voice that responded was that of a guy and once he said his name, I stood to finish the conversation outside in the backyard where I’d have privacy.

“Good to hear from you, Turner. And a whole 24-hours early at that,” I said with a laugh, one Turner didn’t reciprocate. If I had to guess, he was on the other end of the line fuming, angry that I basically had him by the balls.

“I’m guessing you have good news for me?” I asked.

He sighed into the phone. “I do, but it isn’t as cut and dry as I think you had in mind.”

My kneejerk reaction was to cut him off when he all but admitted to failing; however, I stood there in silence, waiting to see what else he had to say.

“My wife’s sister is a teacher’s assistant at a charter school that’s been operating for just shy of a decade. She caught wind of a few positions opening up, so I put in a call to the director who seemed very interested. I made sure to speak very highly of Ms. Palmer and the gentleman seemed impressed that I called personally to refer her.”

His news gave me hope, but I didn’t say anything right away. We weren’t out of the woods yet.

“Now the downside is that the interview process for the fall semester will be taking place very close to the same time Ms. Palmer disclosed she’ll be due to deliver.”

He made a good point, but that didn’t have to be the end of it.

“You said he liked that you, yourself, called to speak on Brynn’s behalf, right? So couldn’t you do that again? Couldn’t you let this guy know a little bit about her condition and that she won’t really be able to get around like that this summer? Maybe he’d consider a phone interview.”

I didn’t want to disclose the details to Turner, but at Brynn’s follow up appointment after the blood pressure spike, Dr. Rubino made it clear that she was to take it easy in her last trimester and preparing for a big interview was bound to be stressful. Nothing was worth risking her health over. Not even the possibility of acquiring a good job.

“I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t make any promises,” he replied. “I’ll definitely try, though.”

He sounded more resolute with finding Brynn a new position than he did before. I liked that; liked that he was being positive.

“I’ll take that for now, but I want answers next month.
Real
answers,” I clarified, ending the conversation right after.

This lead sounded promising, but not solid enough to tell Brynn just yet. Once I knew for sure that she’d have a job to return to, I would tell her everything.

Instinctively, I began heading back in the direction I came from, back inside the house. However, I decided against it and sought out my father in the garage instead.

A big hug was his usual greeting and I always enjoyed being out here with him, in his element. He’d been good with his hands for as long as I’d known him. Even during his rough patch, he managed to bring in a little cash working on cars every now and again, it just wasn’t anything steady.

“How’s it going?” he asked with a huge grin.

“Everything’s great. Things are good.” And they were.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, heading back to the other side of his work station.

On the tattered surface, worn from years of pet projects and general repairs, several smooth pieces of wood lie there with a dark stain finish drying on them. Dad grabbed one he hadn’t coated yet and lightly sanded it so it’d match the others.

“What’s this?” I asked, stepping closer as I watched him.

He grinned big. “This is my gift to you,” he answered, but I still didn’t get it. Noting the confused look on my face, he explained further. “It’s going to be my granddaughter’s crib. She has to have something made by her Papito’s hands,” he insisted

I smiled hearing him use the term—
Papito
. That was the name my nieces, Rosalina and Bel, called him by and I imagined my baby girl would, too, one day.

“Wow… you didn’t have to do this,” I said back, admiring his hard work. “How long have you been working on it?”

Dad shrugged. “A few weeks now. I figure, when you’re ready, I can come by and help you set up a nursery for her at your house.” He shifted his eyes away from his project and leveled a stern look my way. “You
do
plan to set one up for her there, too, don’t you? Not just at her mother’s?” His expression, the genuine concern on his face, made me smile.

“That’s the plan. I’ve already been giving it some thought,” I assured him.

“Good.” My answer brought him peace and he stared down on the dark, wood slats again. “This little girl will need
both
of you, Marco. And I just want to make sure you’re prepared to give one-hundred percent. Just like I’m sure her mother will.”

I listened and didn’t get offended by his gentle reminder that I was just as responsible for making sure my daughter was cared for as Brynn was.

“You need to have your own things for her,” he went on.

I laughed a little. “I know. I’m on it.”

He gave me a look, wanting to make sure I was really listening, and then he went back to sanding. A chair that used to be a part of our old kitchen set was in the corner, so I grabbed it, deciding to stay out there for a while. When I sat, my dad glanced over and I noted the serene look he wore.

“I love how our little family just keeps growing. Makes us stronger, you know?” he said with a smile. He kept his eyes on his work when he added, “Nothing pleases me more.”

My father and I were a lot alike in many ways and our love of family was one of them.

He glanced over for a moment before his eyes shifted toward the house. “
So… I asked you this last time
,” he said, speaking Spanish as if Brynn would hear our conversation if he didn’t. “
Are things still coming along?”
There was a slick smile on his face when he asked and I smiled back, knowing what he was talking about.

Last time, our discussion about Brynn revealed that I may have had deeper feelings for her than I’d even admitted to myself at the time. It didn’t surprise me that my father was revisiting that conversation now. Being big on family, I was sure he was secretly rooting for Brynn and I to come together. He’d never push, but I know him well enough to tell when he’s hopeful.

When I nodded, answering his question, he laughed—loud, gruff.

“
That makes your old man happy.
”

I shook my head at how animated he was, leaned back in my seat as thoughts crept in—and maybe a little doubt.

“I uh… I don’t mean to pry,” he lied, although he meant well, “but… where do the two of you stand now? Still just friends?” he asked. “Or more than friends?” I almost burst out laughing watching him try to be casual. If I had to guess, he was dying over there, trying not to ask a thousand questions.

It was easy to keep things simple with my father, so that’s what I did. “More than friends,” I admitted, “but no labels. No titles.”

He nodded, understanding. “That’s good. You two are smart to take things one day at a time.” There was something hidden beneath his words, but I didn’t catch it right away. It wasn’t until several seconds of silence passed that I realized something more was on his mind.

“What is it?” I asked, watching as he set one piece of wood aside and grabbed for another.

A casual shrug came first and then a question. Just one. “Does she know?”

I suppose I was just being naïve, but I honestly didn’t know what he meant right away. It took a moment to sink in and then I realized he was asking if Brynn knew I danced.

“I told her.”

My father nodded thoughtfully. “And… she’s fine with it?”

There was no easy answer to that question. Yes, Brynn seemed to accept me despite how I earned my living, but was she okay with it? That’s where things got tricky. The one time we spoke about it, her response was open-ended. I could’ve made assumptions either way. Honestly, I think she just didn’t want to hurt my feelings by telling me the truth, but I had a hunch she wasn’t as okay with it as she seemed.

My answer for my father was simply, “I doubt it.”

He was silent after that, keeping his immediate thoughts to himself. However, because we’re so much alike, I was pretty sure I knew what he was thinking—
‘Is my job going to cost me everything and when is enough enough?’

“Well… you didn’t ask my opinion, but my suggestion is that you talk to her about it. Find out how she feels and when she shares that, take whatever she says into consideration,” he replied.

However, I knew he had more to say than that. “What do
you
think about it, Pop? How do you think a woman in her position views what I do?”