Marco (The Men of Indecent Exposure #1) (8 page)

“How are things?” he asked, taking a seat on the couch.

I nodded and eased down at the opposite end, clasping my hands in my lap before responding. “Good. Things are good.” That may or may not have been a lie; I wasn’t sure, but it was the first answer that came to my frazzled mind.

He dipped his chin once. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“How’s your father? Have you heard anything new?” I piped, trying to mask my anxiety with over-confidence. Chances are, he saw right through it.

“According to my mother, he’s doing much better. He’ll be on the mend for a few weeks, but he’s still making progress.”

Fresh out of small talk, I nodded and then let my gaze slip to the floor. This, facing him now, wasn’t easy.

“Listen, I shouldn’t have—”

“I know I dropped a lot on you, but—” I said, speaking at the same time as Naseem. I smiled a little and told him to go first.

“I was just going to say that I shouldn’t have left the way I did the other week, not without finishing our discussion,” he reasoned. I watched the range of emotions he experienced between that sentence and his next. “Your news was just… it was a lot to take in.”

I lowered my head, imagining that to be true.

Naseem knew me,
very
well; had since we met on campus when I was eighteen and he was nineteen—seven years ago. I was the bookworm who mostly stayed in studying, never really concerning herself with boys and parties. I could actually count on one hand how many times I drank while in college. So, there was no doubt in my mind that my news
was
hard to take in. Just like he said.

He pushed a hand through his dark hair and then let it settle back on his shoulders. He was frustrated. I’d seen that look enough times to recognize it, but it had never been because of me. Never until now.

“I know we were just getting started, Brynn. Trust me, I keep reminding myself of that fact, but… maybe because we’ve been friends for so long… it just… never mind. This is silly. I—”

Shaking my head, I encouraged Naseem to continue when his sentence trailed off. “It’s not silly,” I assured him, moving closer to place my hand on top of his. His gaze shifted there when our skin touched. “I’d like to hear what you have to say,” I added, finishing my thought.

Hazel eyes shifted toward me and, in that one glance, I felt all the things he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud. It made my heart heavy. His face, one I always found handsome even years before acknowledging there was more between us, went slack beneath the thick beard. I wanted to embrace him, but at this point, I wasn’t sure that wouldn’t just confuse the situation further. However, before Naseem and I were anything, we were friends. Remembering simpler times between us, I decided to set aside my concern and did what felt natural.

I hugged my friend.

The warmth of his skin against my cheek, the natural, mellow scent of it, was all so familiar. His soft curls swept over my arms when I draped them both around his neck. Eventually, his went around me, too. This was hard for us both, although for different reasons.

Still locked in an embrace, Naseem finished his thought, blurting the words when a better way of explaining eluded him. “Brynn… I’m in—” he paused and my heart raced, filling in the rest of his sentence, but then he hesitated, taking back what he hadn’t yet fully shared. “I… care about you,” he corrected, next adding, “I always have.”

My eyes fell closed as he spoke. I never doubted that his feelings for me ran deep. Mine for him may not have measured up, but what I felt was powerful nonetheless. Powerful and real. Because of that, I understood why my current situation hurt him so much.

The palm of his hand flattened against my back and my heart raced. So close, I was sure he felt it, too.

“I’m so sorry,” I breathed.

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

I heard him, but felt guilty all the same. This wasn’t an instance of unfaithfulness or deceit, but an apology still seemed warranted. I had always been very open with him, about
everything
, which was why I told him I was expecting almost immediately. He deserved to know not to invest any more of his feelings or time in me. My life was about to become a whole lot more complicated in the coming months and I wouldn’t drag him through that.

Now that Marco was as sure as I was of our circumstances, I had no idea what his plans were. We hadn’t had a chance to discuss it since my appointment yesterday.
Would he be around? Was he planning to take an active role in the baby’s life?
I wasn’t sure, but I wouldn’t stand in the way of letting him be a father. That would, in many ways, give him access to me and to my life, especially early on. I didn’t want that to make Naseem uncomfortable. That wasn’t to say that I would never move on with someone, but for now, I could only afford to be concerned about one person—
my child
.

While I was almost positive Naseem would agree to stay our course, to continue what we started despite all I had going on, I wouldn’t do that to him. He’s an uncomplicated guy who deserved an equally uncomplicated woman. The kindest thing I could do at this point was let him go. I wanted him to be happy, even if that meant finding someone else.

Slowly, we unlatched our arms from around one another, but stayed close.

“You’ve been a really good friend to me.” My voice sounded breathier than usual as Naseem’s thumb gently swiped away a tear that streaked my face. “I know things are changing, but I hope—” I paused when my throat began to feel tight. Fear rose inside me and I hated not being able to see what the future would hold for Naseem and I; not being able to see if our friendship would survive this. “I hope I don’t lose you completely,” was all I could say.

He was shaking his head, protesting before I even finished speaking. Without realizing what was coming, a soft kiss pressed to my mouth and air rushed quickly in and out of my lungs. The warmth of Naseem’s palms went all through me when he lightly took my cheeks in his hands, pulling me to him. The kiss was an innocent one, just slightly more intense than a peck, but it was our first… and likely our last.

The gesture left me confused for several reasons, but the most pressing one being Naseem’s timing. I’d just, for all intents and purposes, officially broken things off with him. A kiss right now left me wondering if my goal for this conversation was as clear as I meant for it to be; wondering if he understood what my intentions were. I didn’t want to string him along, didn’t want him trying to hold on. A clean break would be easier for us both. I only aimed to mend our friendship moving forward.

Nothing else; because I had nothing else to give.

He took his lips away and held his forehead against mine, speaking words that resonated with me, words that made me forget the awkwardness that occurred only seconds before.

“You’ll never lose me, Brynn. No matter what,” he promised.

One of the things I liked most about Naseem was that he’d always been a man of his word. So even now, this promise made under such extreme circumstances, would be kept. I could count on that… because I could count on him.

Marco

Last night was long and exhausting just like
all
my Saturday nights, but I still managed to be up staring at the ceiling by seven. It was Brynn that kept me awake. Well, it was knowing that we needed to talk that did it.

Reaching for my cell, I did something Justin suggested before we left the club last night. He said I should see if Brynn was opposed to us getting to know one another better, spending more time together. In his words, co-parenting would be easier if she and I could figure how to be friends. I agreed with that.

‘Good morning. How would you feel about me taking you out to breakfast?’
was my attempt at extending an olive branch. I reread the text I sent several times, first wondering if it was too cold, and then wondering if it sounded like I was coming on to her. Eventually, I stopped worrying about it and trusted that she’d know where I was coming from.

‘I wouldn’t mind, but my stomach has been really sensitive lately.’

I read her response, assuming it was a cop out until she sent another.

‘Would you mind coming here instead?’
she asked.
‘I can make something.’

I let out a breath and hoped this was a good move. If not, I had Justin to blame.

‘I’ll be there. Text the time and address,’
I said in closing, getting up to shower right after.

I was already standing beneath the water when I heard the alert on my phone, letting me know she had sent the info. I don’t know if it was the talk I had with the guys that set me straight or what, but I woke up this morning with a sense of resolve. I approached this situation wrong from jump. It was hard at first trying to see anyone’s position in this other than my own, but Brynn was just as caught up in all this as I was. At first, I worried that we’d have nothing to relate to one another on, no common ground. But if nothing else,
this
was our common ground—expecting a child together. Neither of us had done it before and we were both struggling to adjust. I didn’t want us to be enemies or at each other’s throats for the rest of our lives. We’d be partners, in a way, for the next eighteen years at least, so we would both benefit from trying to get along.

When I got out of the shower, I ironed a red Polo shirt and some jeans to throw on, grabbing my red, fitted baseball cap on my way out the door. I’d just started the engine when the phone rang. Touching the screen of my truck’s dash, I answered.

“Whassup?”

“You’re meeting us at the gym, right?” Justin asked, speaking loudly over his music and the commotion in the background. Knowing his routine as well as I know my own, I knew all the noise was him preparing his green, breakfast smoothie. The music was his way of getting amped up for this morning’s workout.

I pulled out of my driveway before answering. “Not today. I’ve got some other stuff to do.”

His music went silent at the same time he killed the noise of his blender and I knew he was about to get on my head about ditching him and the guys. “Like what?” he asked, proving me right.

I blew out a breath and thought again about what I was on my way to do. “I’m taking your advice,” I admitted. “I’m on my way to Brynn’s.”

This guy
never
did a good job of hiding it when he gloated. There were few things he loved more than being right. The very next second, he proved that today was no exception. “Ohhhh… I see
somebody
was listening!”

Shaking my head at how predictable he’d become, I went on. “I’m just trying to keep the peace, you know?”

“I feel you,” he agreed. “It’s early; you taking her to breakfast or something?”

“No, I offered, but she wants to cook instead—something about her stomach being sensitive. Probably a pregnancy thing.”

“Oh ok,” Justin replied, but then his voice came back through my car’s speakers. “You’re not going empty handed, though, right?”

I frowned, staring at the elapsed time on the screen before I spoke. “What the hell am I supposed to bring? She didn’t ask me to—”

“This clown,” he cut in, talking
about
me, but not
to
me. “Dude… you’re trying to get on her good side, aren’t you?”

I shrugged. It wasn’t really like that, but I listened anyway.

“Pick up some flowers or…
something.
At least ask her if she needs you to bring something to add to the meal,” he suggested. “If you show up empty handed, expecting to eat up all this girl’s food, you’re gonna look like a bum,” he concluded. “And I can’t let you go out like that.”

It was too early for this. Pulling off the road and into the parking lot of the grocery store I was just about to pass, I cussed Justin out in my head. Flowers? I wasn’t trying to date her, it was just breakfast. Still, on the off chance that he was right, I didn’t want Brynn looking at me like I literally had nothing to bring to the table.

“I knew I shouldn’t have picked up when I saw your name,” I mumbled, shutting the engine off again.

“Whatever. I probably just saved your damn reputation,” he reasoned, sounding amused.

I switched the call from Bluetooth to my phone and climbed out of the car, headed for the store’s entrance. “You’re gonna have this girl thinking I’m—”

“Thinking you’re what?” he cut in. “A good guy?”

I didn’t say anything back, just scanned the flower selection. I’d taken several women flowers over the years, but none under these circumstances. It still felt like it was too much, but Justin had already talked me into it.

While I thought, the clerk re-stocking the glass enclosure beside me lifted a bright, yellow bouquet of roses off the cart, preparing to place it on the shelf.

“Excuse me, Miss?”

The woman looked my way when I spoke. “Yes? Can I help you?”

I pointed at the arrangement in her hands. “Mind if I take that one?”

She smiled and handed it over before going back to her task.

“Man, send me a pic,” Justin said into my earpiece. “They better not look cheap.”

I’d already started toward the register and decided I didn’t need any more of his advice this morning. I rushed him off my phone, paid, and then got back on the road.

Within twenty minutes, I was standing at Brynn’s door knocking, trying to think of stuff we could talk about while we ate to keep things from getting weird. We hadn’t gotten off to the best start, so I wasn’t sure what kind of mood she’d be in. However, the point of me coming to see her today was to start over. Or at least try to.

Justin did a lot of talking, like…
a lot…
but most of the time he made sense. He was right about Brynn and I needing to establish
positive
communication between us, some dialogue about how this would all play out. We both needed to know where the other was coming from.

I heard the last few steps she took as she approached the door. For some reason I stood a little taller and straightened my shirt as I breathed deep.

The door unlatched and a smile, much like the one she wore when she met with me at the restaurant a few weeks ago, greeted me on the other side of the threshold. Nothing like the cold shoulder she’d given me the other day at the doctor’s office. Maybe she’d come to the same conclusion I had about turning over a new leaf and trying to get along.

The sunlight hit her in just the right way when she stepped into it, making her pretty, brown skin glow a little. Or maybe it was just that glow people say
all
pregnant women have. Whatever the case, it made her look even more beautiful today than the other times I’d seen her.

Her hair looked good, too—parted down the middle, long with big curls at the ends. She had it pulled forward over her shoulders, covering her chest. Another pair of those tight stretch pants—gray this time—covered her lower half and I swallowed hard, trying not to notice how good she looked in them. The hip-length, button-down shirt she had on left her thighs exposed, drawing my eyes to the
‘Y’
shape where they touched at the top and then fanned out into the spread of round hips. My jaw stiffened at the sight of her and, as inappropriate as it may have been, I found myself wishing I could remember what she looked like wearing less.
Much less.
Of course, nothing came back to me, but trust me; it wasn’t for lack of trying. Her shape was something like perfect and, as usual, I had to keep my thoughts in check.

But damn, it wasn’t easy.

“Uh... good morning’,” I forced out, redirecting my eyes to hers. Hopefully, I played that off well, but probably not. “These are for you,” I added, holding out the flowers Justin said would serve as a peace offering. Thinking about it, I hadn’t made such a great impression and I hoped to change that. I wasn’t going to let her down. We got into this together and we’d get through it the same way.

Brynn’s eyes, naturally large and bright, widened at the sight of the yellow roses as she took them from my hand. “Oh wow… thank you.” She glanced up from the bouquet and looked at me, smiling again before inviting me inside.

I stepped onto the freshly-waxed, wood floor and looked around. Her place was nice, well-kept. I could tell from the outside that it was small, but the way she had the living room arranged made it feel bigger, more open. Right off the bat, I picked up on her favorite color being yellow. There were subtle hints of it everywhere—the throw pillows on her gray sofa, yellow and white striped curtains, and the view I had of the kitchen from the living room showed that the far wall had been painted yellow, too. Clearly, this particular flower arrangement had been a good call.

“Nice place.” I looked around as I untied my shoes to set them aside.

“Thank you. I’m only renting, but I think I may take the plunge to purchase it within the next year or two.”

She locked the door and started toward the kitchen, gesturing for me to follow.

Colorful, abstract pieces of art, and a few pictures of her family, covered the wall above the couch and I studied them in the few seconds I had as I passed by.

“Buying my house was probably the best investment I ever made,” I added, continuing on with our conversation.

Brynn’s eyes came my way again as she glanced at me from over her shoulder. The look was quick, but it was long enough for me to read it—what I said had shocked her. That didn’t surprise me; I was used to people thinking I was too rough around the edges to own… well…
anything
. My look didn’t scream
‘business-minded’
, but I didn’t let that bother me. In my line of work, you get used to people making all kinds of assumptions about who you are and what you’re capable of. I’m living proof that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

Too often people let these tattoos and gym shoes fool them. In truth, I’d been taking care of myself,
and
my family, for a long time.

“How long ago did you buy?” Brynn asked next.

I took a breath, trying to remember as I caught myself staring at her again when we crossed the threshold to the kitchen. “Three? Four years ago?”

“Hmm, well, if you don’t mind, I may have questions for you when and if I decide to go for it.”

“Nah, I don’t mind. Just say when.”

The corner of her mouth lifted into a smile as she stopped beside the counter to place the flowers in an empty vase she had there. I took another step closer when the abrupt pause caught me off guard, almost running into her, but she didn’t seem to notice. That hint of cinnamon I detected on her before, the sweet smell she seemed to have all the time, was strong even with the aroma of the breakfast she prepared lingering in the air.

A silver-polished fingernail pointed toward the barstools. Her other hand went to her hip and I forced my eyes not to follow it.

“You can sit here while I get some water for these and fix your plate.”

“Thank you,” I replied, glancing at her glossed lips for a moment before taking the seat she offered me. Turning toward the sink, Brynn filled a glass rim-high and then emptied it into the vase she’d just placed her flowers inside. Next, she went to the cabinet to remove a single blue plate and started filling it with food—eggs, sausage, and pancakes. I watched, waiting for her to do the same for herself, but she never did.