Bent not Broken (267 page)

“The house seems so modern, did you remodel?”

“When my father passed away, my mother wanted to put it up for sale; she said it was too difficult for her to come here because of all the memories. I begged her not too…I told her I wanted to keep it. She didn’t want to at first, and my brother didn’t care for it. I had so many memories with him here I couldn’t give it up. She didn’t sell it, but we never came back here. On my eighteenth birthday, I had access to my share of my father’s estate, and my mother gave me the keys. I flew here the first chance I had. It was abandoned, uncared for. I extended the home to make it bigger and modernized it with the exception of the den of course. I didn’t touch one thing in that room; it’s exactly how my father left it, except for the TV. The old one was broken, so I purchased a new one.”

He placed a lid onto the pan after he poured the mushrooms and Marsala wine into it. He lowered the heat and placed diced red potatoes into the oven after he seasoned them. “Wow, have your mother and brother come back to see it?”

“Um, a couple times, yes.”

“You must come here a lot to keep up with it.” I watched him wash his hands again as I took a few more sips of the delicious wine.

“Actually I haven’t been here in over a year. It’s been really busy at work. I hired a live-in maid who keeps up with it. I let her know when I coming; she stocks the fridge and visits family until I leave. I usually don’t like company; I never bring anyone up here.”

“So you never brought a girl to your shore home?” I questioned with narrowed eyes.

“Besides my mother and you? No I haven’t.”

“Why not?” If Jeremy owned a shore home, he would have brought dozens of girls at a time. What makes DeLuca different from other men?

“This is my getaway spot where I can run from my hectic life. This place is very personal to me. I never thought to bring a woman here…until you.” Uncertain if that was true, I narrowed my eyes then decided to leave it at that.

He offered me his hand. “Come, I want to show you something. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.” I grabbed his hand and followed as he led me to the door at the far right of the kitchen. When we entered, it felt as though we walked into another home. The den had outdated ocean blue rugs, white paneled walls, and high ceilings. A white brick fireplace was the centerpiece of the room. An oversized black leather sofa was on one side of the fireplace, opposite from two matching recliners. In the middle of the furniture was a glass coffee table. A built-in oak bookcase on the right side of the fire place held books and board games.

Sliding my hand away from his, I wandered the room, admiring how warm it felt even with the white walls. It was outdated, but it felt homey. I slid my shoes off and rubbed my toes on the soft carpet. Walking over to the bookcase, I picked up a metal picture frame; the picture showed a tanned man with a full head of silky black hair, wearing white linen pants and a matching shirt. His arms were wrapped around two boys: a little, brown-haired, tanned boy and a lighter and taller boy with light brown hair. The taller boy held up a hook with a fish half his size. The little boy held a fishing rod. All three were smiling aboard a boat.

Marcus walked up beside me. “That’s my father, my brother, and I. I was eight and Jimmie was twelve.” He smiled to himself, remembering the day. “My brother and I had gotten into the biggest argument about who would pose with the catfish for that picture. My father solved it by flipping a coin. As you can see, I lost.”

“Your father was very handsome; you look just like him.” I looked up at Marcus who smiled. He took the picture from my hand, placing it back in its place. “Thank you, I get that a lot.”

“I take it your brother looks like your mother?” I asked, drifting away from him.

“Yeah, on top of the fireplace, there’s a family portrait of the four us.” There were several frames on top of the mantel. I found the one of the four of them, and I reached for it. Jimmie had greenish eyes and light brown hair so different from Marcus. Mrs. DeLuca was absolutely beautiful. She had big green eyes, light brown, wavy hair, fair skin, and a beautiful smile with a dimple on the right side of her cheek. I smiled, acknowledging where Marcus got his dimple from, but he looked just like his father with the tanned complexion, dark, thick hair, brown eyes, and thick arched eyebrows.

“What are your mother’s and father’s first names?” I asked while placing the frame exactly back where I found it. I turned to find him behind me, looking at the picture as well.

“James Vincent DeLuca, my brother is a junior, but we call him Jimmie. My mother’s name is Theresa DeLuca.”

“Who were you named after?”

He laughed before answering. “I was named after my mother’s father, but my middle name is the same as my father’s, Marcus Vincent.”

“Marcus Vincent DeLuca?
Mmmh
?” Smiling at him, I leaned in and whispered, “I like it.”

The sides of the eyes wrinkled as his smile grew wider. “Do you now?” he said, placing his arms around my hips and pulling me in. Unable to control myself, I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Yes very much.” Leaning up on my toes, I breathed him in, and his smell was intoxicating. “Which cologne do you use?” It had a clean citrus scent.

“That will be my little secret from you.” When he leaned down for a kiss, the buzzer to the stove went off. He shook his head and rested his forehead against mine. “Perfect timing, huh? Come on, I know you’re hungry. Let’s eat then head to the beach.”

Excited about the beach, I practically ran behind him. He set up our dinner plates with, chicken marsala, roasted red potatoes and garlic asparagus. He patiently waited as I took a bite. It was tender and bursting with flavor. “
Mmmmmh
, Marcus this is so good.” As I looked at him, he smiled with relief and poured us another glass of wine. We enjoyed our delicious dinner, wiping our plates clean.

I washed the dishes and headed to my room to change into my swimsuit.

After deciding on my turquoise bikini, white cover-up and matching flip-flops, I grabbed two beach towels and headed down the stairs. Marcus was nowhere in sight, so I went out the sliding doors and headed towards the beach.

It was absolutely beautiful. I smiled as I laid the two towels onto the white sand. Stripping off my cover-up and tossing my flip-flops aside, I made my way towards the ocean. The sun beamed against my skin, and my feet burned from the hot sand. When I finally reached the edge of the water, I allowed the cool water to splash along my freshly polished toes.

I sighed in contentment. There is always something peaceful and calming about the beach. The way it allows you to take in its beauty. It’s like the ocean knows all of your deepest, darkest secrets and thoughts. It doesn’t judge you; instead, at that very moment all the pain and sadness you feel just drifts away along with the waves.

After what seemed like a long time, I turned around to see if Marcus were near, and there he was walking towards me in knee-length black swimming trunks. They were hanging low on his waist, teasing me as they revealed the V shape on his hip bones; his abs were perfectly ripped and tight. They were the most perfect abs I’d ever seen. His chest and broad muscular shoulders screamed for my hands to rub all over him.

His aviator sunglasses hid his dark eyes, but his smile showed approval of my bikini. He picked up the pace as the sun beamed against his golden tan, and the beautiful scenery behind him made it seem like he was posing for a high-end magazine.

When he finally reached me, he didn’t say anything. Instead he pulled me in his arms and kissed me hard and passionately. I was already out of it mentally when I noted the image of him walking towards me, but once his lips met mine, I lost complete control of myself. I allowed him to take over my mind and body; and whatever he wanted I was willing to do, so his kiss took over me in a way I couldn’t explain.

I tried to reach up to further the kiss, but he was too tall, and my toes sank into the sand. His lips spread into a smile at my failed attempt. Slowly bending, he brought me down with him. He sat on the sand, and I nestled on his lap, straddling him. I was able to deepen the kiss as I rustled my fingers in his hair. His arms were strong and secure around me.

Now that I was sitting on him I felt in control. I took over, trying to overpower him. I bit down on his bottom lip, and he moaned. The vibrant sound from his throat hardened my nipples. He traced his hands along my curves; his touch made my lower belly twist with excitement, and I arched into him. I’d never wanted a man this much.

Marcus DeLuca had to be a dangerous man because I was caving in too soon; it was just too soon to feel this attachment, to feel and want him so desperately. When something seems too good to be true, it’s exactly that.

Chapter Eight

I pulled away from the kiss, trying to catch my breath. I couldn’t see his eyes, so I snatched off his sunglasses then grabbed his face with my hands. I looked into his eyes, trying to find his reason, the reason why I was there. All I saw was sincerity in his eyes.

His chest was pulsing as he took in some air. “Mia, you’re so beautiful … seeing you in this bikini, I can’t control myself.” I sighed, leaning my forehead against his. “You’re killing me.” He whispered to me, closing his eyes and caressing his thumb against my cheek.

“And you’re killing me, Marcus.” I shook my head. That kiss was too much, too passionate. A kiss like that was meant for two people in love, not meant for two people getting to know each other. I stood, and his eyes squinted with confusion.

Turning from him, I walked further into the ocean, deep enough for the waves to splash my thighs. Crossing my arms, I stood there and watched the blue waves angrily dance in the distance.

Marcus was beside me instantly. He gently grabbed my hand and turned me to face him. “What’s wrong, Mia?” He asked with worried eyes.

It was hard for me to explain my feelings without it coming out the wrong way. Waving my hand in the space between us, I said, “I don’t know Marcus. I don’t know what this is, you know?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know what this is either, Mia.” He sighed. Leaning closer, he grabbed my face. “I’ve never felt this way for anyone, but you have to trust me when I say we’ll be fine.” He leaned in and kissed me. This time it was softer and warmer.

I wanted to trust him, but it was so hard when I’m always let down. Pulling away from his kiss again, I shook my head. “I don’t know if I can do that.” I turned and quickly made my way back to our towels without looking back. My feet sank into the sand with every step.

I reached our towels and grabbed my cover-up, pulling it over my head. When it was completely on, Marcus was already in front of me. His shoulders were hunched forward with his hands on his hips. He was looking down, shaking his head and trying to catch his breath.

I crossed my arms, waiting for him to say something, and after a moment he looked up. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why can’t you trust me?” I bit my lip, contemplating whether to just let it all out. Screw it. I’m the type of person that needs to say how I’m feeling. I can’t keep it bottled up inside even if it sounds wrong.

“I’ve only known you for what, four days? And I’m already telling you things I’ve never told anyone…
and
those kisses the first night and today: those were not ordinary kisses, Marcus!”

“I know.” He leaned in to me, but I brought my hand up to stop him.

“Let me finish. Then you can talk.” Placing his hands back on his hips, he gave a small nod. “Trusting people in general is hard for me. You have to understand I came from a life where it’s normal for the people you love and trust to just disappear. I don’t know what a mother’s love is, my father was taken away from me at a very young age, and the one person I had left, the one I ran to for every problem, every heartache, he was…” I fought to hold back my tears when speaking of Michael. I dropped down on the towel Indian style. I felt him beside me, not saying anything just listening. I continued without looking at him.

“When I was in college, I met a man who told me all the right things. I was young, gullible, and I believed everything he said. After a year in a relationship with him, I found him with his wife and six-month-old daughter in a nearby park. When he saw me, he pretended as if I didn’t exist. It took me a long time to get over it, but I did eventually.

“My senior year of BU, I met another guy. He was also smooth and knew how to manipulate me. Then I caught him in my dorm room with my roommate. After that I told myself I would never get attached, never allow myself to take another man seriously…and I haven’t. Yet here you are, another man with all the right things to say, and I’m slowly falling for every word. I just got to the point in my life where I accepted being alone not only in a relationship but
alone
. I have no family, my only friend is a guy I live with, and I'm okay with that.” I turned my head to face him, trying to show him in my expression that I was sincerely fine with it.

Biting his lip, he shook his head. “Mia, I’m sorry you’ve been hurt. I really am, but please don’t make me pay for other's mistakes. I don’t know where this is leading, but I want to see where it goes. I feel that we could be something, but I can’t prove myself to you if you don’t let me try.” He shifted closer, placing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me in. I laid my head on his chest. “Can you just try? Not just for me but for us? We could have something special.” Lifting my chin with the tips of his fingers, his eyes met mine. His stare deepened with reassurance. “Can you do that, Mia? Can you at least try?”

Letting out a deep breath, I closed my eyes. “I'll try, but if you screw up once, I don’t care how small, I'm out. Do you understand?” Shooting my eyes open, I gave him a pointed glare.

He laughed once. “And if you screw up?”

“I won’t.” I smiled.

“Okay then, we won’t screw it up, sounds simple enough.” We smiled at each other. I laid my head back on his shoulder, and it dawned on me. I’d be working for him until the end of July. The thought that this was not the first time he’d slept with a co-worker left an unsettling knot in my stomach.