Disastrous (Disastrous Series) (10 page)

The first floor had two additional bedrooms that were connected to a joint bathroom, another guest bathroom, and an office/library. The second floor had three additional large bedrooms each with a bathroom and balcony overlooking the ocean. The master suite was another favorite. It was bigger than my entire apartment.

In the middle of the master suite sat a California king mahogany sleigh bed decorated beautifully with a brown silk comforter along with blue, white, and brown accent pillows. The entire right side of the wall was all–glass, overlooking the beach. You could step out to the terrace where a hammock, table and two chairs were neatly placed.

On the left side of the room, a doorway led into a sanctuary spa-style bathroom. A Jacuzzi was in one corner surrounded by brown and beige marbled tiles. A steam shower big enough to fit six people was set beside the tub. On the opposite side was a long two-sink vanity. The sinks were the shape of large white bowls with stainless steel modern fountains. Above the sinks were two matching oval-shaped stainless framed mirrors. The toilet sat alone behind a wall. Behind a sliding door was a walk-in closet. I was surprised by the lack of clothing, but then again it was a vacation home.

“You can sleep in here, Mia; I’ll take the room next door.” Marcus said, giving me the master suite.

It was beautiful, but I could not possibly take his room. “I couldn’t. I’ll be fine in another room.”

“No, you’ll sleep in here, and that’s final.” I nodded.

“Come. Let’s get you fed.” Grabbing my hand, he led me back down to the kitchen. He sat me down onto a stool by the island. I folded my hands as I watched him take out chicken breasts, mushrooms, butter, olive oil, some seasonings, and flour. “Are you
cooking
?” I asked astonished. He walked over to a cabinet and removed two wine glasses. “Yes, I’m cooking for you.”

Slamming my hand against my chest, I let my mouth drop open. “Wow, I’m surprised Mr. DeLuca,
you
can cook?”

“I guess you’ll be the judge of that.”

I laughed. “Did I tell you that I’m starving? Maybe we should have pizza on standby, just in case.” He shook his head.

Removing red and white bottles of wine from the hidden wine refrigerator behind one of the cabinet doors, he held both up to me, and I pointed to the red. Opening a drawer, he removed an electronic wine opener. Then he poured the red wine into both glasses. He walked over to me and set my glass down. Leaning over, he placed his soft lips against my forehead; the gesture made me smile from ear-to-ear. “Sit back, relax, and watch me cook,
baby
.”

Walking back to the opposite side of the island, I thought of him cooking naked. Now that would be something. He removed a few more items from the cabinet and washed his hands before preparing the food.

Every muscle in his arms and chest flexed with each chop and slice, making him even more attractive. “Who knew that watching a sexy man cook could be such a turn-on?” I grabbed my wine and took a few sips.

He looked at me with a crooked grin. “So you think I’m sexy, huh?” Slowly I nodded and continued gulping down my wine. “So I smell good, and I’m sexy. Good to know.”

“And I’ll let you know if you can add “great cook” to that list as well.” I winked. He laughed. It was an adorable laugh. He seemed so carefree and worriless, as if he were in his element: enjoying his surroundings, cooking, and drinking wine. Watching him like this, I didn’t see him as the powerful attorney of Boston. I saw him as a twenty-nine-year-old man enjoying life.

After slicing two chicken breasts in half, he lightly rubbed flour on the four pieces. A little salt, pepper and other seasonings and they were placed on a plate. Placing a pan over medium heat on the stove, he poured a little olive oil and two scoops of butter into it. He took a few sips of wine, waiting for the butter to melt.

I felt buzzed from the one glass of wine since I drank it on an empty stomach. As if reading my mind, he walked over to the fridge and removed a small tray of cheese, crackers, and grapes. He placed it in front of me and popped a cube of the cheddar cheese into his mouth. He winked before returning to the stove. The grapes were mouthwatering, and my stomach growled after I teased it with just a few. I look up embarrassed, but from what I could tell, he didn’t notice.

While eating a few crackers, I watched him stab the chicken breasts with a fork and place them into the sizzling pan. I poured each of us another glass of wine. “So how did you learn to cook?”

He smiled. “My father was very big on cooking. He loved it. Every Sunday he enjoyed spending time with my mother, and he helped her prepare a huge feast. On days my mother felt sick, he let me help…I wanted to help. He made it seem like so much fun the way he would throw salt behind his shoulder before placing it in a recipe or grab a whole chicken, wobbling it across the counter making chicken noises. He was always happy in the kitchen.” His eyes gleamed with the memory of his father. You could tell he’d been very close with him. I imagined Marcus as a little boy with dark brown, messy hair and big brown eyes and the most adorable dimple, sitting on a counter laughing at his father’s goofy ways.

“You seem to have lots of good memories of your father.”

He nodded as he worked his way around the kitchen. “I do. I couldn’t have asked for a better father; he made us his priority, and family meant everything to him. The best memories I have of him were in this house.” He flipped the chicken breast in the pan, revealing a golden crisp top, allowing the other side to cook.

I glanced around the house again, it seemed so new. I recalled that he mentioned his father passing away when he was in high school. “
Really
?”

“Yeah, he would bring us here several times during the summer. Sometimes my brother didn’t want to come, so he would just bring me. I can remember as far back as five years old, and we would go on the beach, collect seashells, watch movies in the den, and play games.” He smiled. I didn’t remember seeing a den, but noticing a door in the far right of the kitchen, I assumed it led to the hidden room.

“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.