Marco (The Men of Indecent Exposure #1) (9 page)

When she placed the dish in front of me, I questioned her with my eyes first before asking, “You’re not eating?”

She looked like the mere thought of it grossed her out as she shook her head. “Not until around one. That seems to be the threshold.”

I accepted the fork she handed me next and thanked her before asking what she meant.

“I still can’t seem to keep anything solid down in the morning,” she explained, flashing a shy smile as she poured us both a glass of orange juice.

I knew nothing about what was supposed to happen during this process, so I wasn’t sure if that was normal or not. Even seeing my baby sister, Marcela, go through it six years ago when she was pregnant with my niece, Isobel, hadn’t given me much insight. All I remembered was her complaining all the time.

All. The. Time.

Hopefully, Brynn wouldn’t be like that.

I tasted the eggs first, feeling Brynn’s eyes on me as she took the stool across the counter from me.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked cheese or peppers or anything in them. I guess I could’ve called and asked, but… I just made them plain,” she rambled.

“They’re perfect just like they are,” I assured her once my mouth wasn’t full anymore.

“Good,” she said quietly.

There were several seconds of silence that passed, but then Brynn struck up conversation again.

“Your tattoos… they’re really nice. Very elaborate,” she added. When I glanced up, she was studying my left arm.

“I’ve had that one for a few years now,” I explained, deciding to tell her more about the one she had her eyes on. “Marcela, my baby sister, had the bright idea that all four of us should get matching tattoos on her eighteenth birthday—Puerto Rican flags. You know; to represent. They had me design these dainty-looking tatts for them and then we went down to the shop on a Sunday when we were closed and I hooked them up. Lucia got hers on her wrist,” I went on, “Lorna wanted hers on her ankle and Marcela wanted hers behind her ear. I finished them up and then my boy Rob came in to do mine, but obviously none of that damn… cutesy stuff my sisters wanted.”

Brynn smiled. “Ah, so
that’s
what you do for a living.”

Apparently, she’d been wondering about my job.

I smiled back at her. “Yeah, I’m an artist, but I own the shop now; the one I worked out of back in the day. I also—” was as far as I got before catching myself. I almost told her more, almost told her what
else
I did for a living, but… maybe some other time. “I also have a couple houses I rent out, too,” I amended, deciding that she might not be ready to hear about
Indecent Exposure
. Or maybe I just wasn’t ready to tell her.

Knowing that I worked at the club tended to make people see me differently, but not in a good way. It would’ve defeated the whole purpose of me coming to her place today; I was here trying to make amends for the first impression I left on her. So, telling her everything might not be best. I’d fit that detail in once things smoothed out between us.

Brynn perked up, likely surprised again at the mention of how hard I work. The way I saw it, I didn’t have much choice but to grind. My income supported a lot of dreams; mine
and
my family’s. With my oldest niece getting ready to leave for college, my youngest niece in private school, and Marcela finishing up her nursing degree, I couldn’t afford to pass on opportunities to put more cash in my wallet.

“Wow… you’ve gotta be one busy man,” she said with a smile.

I shrugged my shoulders casually and sipped from my glass. “What about you? What do you do for a living?”

“I teach at a parochial school. First grade,” she added.

From what I gathered of who Brynn seemed to be—a no nonsense kind of woman, kinda sweet, relatively patient—teaching probably suited her perfectly.

“That’s what’s up.”

“And did I hear you say you have three sisters?” she asked, shifting the conversation again.

I nodded and wiped my mouth. “Yup. Not one brother out of the deal.”

She laughed and sipped more orange juice.

“What about you? Brothers? Sisters?”

The question brought her eyes to mine again. “A brother, Cedric. No sisters, but his wife, Mona, is
like
a sister to me. She and I are best friends.”

I wasn’t sure if it was nerves or what, but she chewed the side of her bottom lip when she finished speaking and with each passing second it became harder not to stare at them, her lips—pouty, soft from what I could tell.

“I envy the quiet childhood you must’ve had,” I replied, trying to keep myself distracted. “My sisters were, and still are, the loudest human beings on the planet.”

“Do you get to see them a lot?” Brynn asked through a smile. “They live here in Houston?”

“See ‘em every Sunday,” I answered. “My mother makes a big dinner every week and insists we all show up. In fact, that’s where I’ll be headed when I leave here. It’s my turn to help her cook so I’m going early. Usually takes a while.”

A mass of dark hair shifted and fell away from her shoulder when Brynn tilted her head to the side. I clocked her every move. “You don’t cook,” she teased, narrowing her eyes a bit.

Pretending to be offended, I looked her up and down. “Nah, don’t get it twisted. I know my way around a kitchen.”

She laughed again, flashing white teeth that had to have cost her parents a fortune when she was a kid.

“Well, that’s nice that you all get together regularly. My brother and I used to meet for dinner once a month before he moved to Atlanta. We talk all the time, though.” She pushed her hair behind her ears. “We’ve always been pretty close. Our parents adopted us late in life, so they made sure Cedric and I knew we would be all the other had one day.”

I glanced up, wondering if being adopted had been a positive or negative experience for her, until she went on, adding, “I couldn’t have been taken in by more amazing people.”

“They passed away?” I asked, picking up on the clues.

Brynn nodded with distant emotion in her eyes, leading me to believe it’d been a while. “Yeah, years ago—both while I was in college.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied. “I’m sure you miss them.”

“Every day,” she said with a faint smile. “They were pretty far up in age when it happened—both in their early eighties—so they lived a full, happy life.”

She seemed to hold high regards for her folks. Family was everything to me, too, so this was something else the two of us had in common.

I downed the last of my juice and set the glass aside, finding Brynn’s eyes fixed on me when I did. She didn’t say anything, quickly averting her stare, but not before I caught her. I didn’t read anything into it, but if I had to guess, she was just as surprised as I was that we were actually getting along. Considering the odds we had stacked against us, this was definitely progress.

The whole reason I came by was to discuss our situation, so I asked the question that hit me almost first thing this morning, before I even made it out of bed: “Do you plan on finding out the sex of the baby?”

She brought her warm, brown eyes back and her shoulders lifted into the air with a shrug. “I hadn’t even thought that far ahead,” she said with a soft laugh. Her gaze drifted down to her fingers as she spread them flat across the countertop. “To be honest, I’ve just been taking this whole thing one day at a time.” The laugh faded to a dim smile. “I know most women are excited and counting down the days, but it’s been… different for me. Different for
us,
” she clarified, still looking away.

Her admission, and the look on her face when she said the words, was sobering to me. No, this pregnancy wasn’t planned, but did that have to mean a dark cloud would hang over our heads the whole time? Did either one of us have to keep feeling like this?

My mother used to say something so simple to me when I was a kid. Back then the saying did nothing but piss me off every time I’d hear it, but that was because it was so basic, something I should have thought of myself. She’d say,
‘If you’re tired of being unhappy, then be happy’
. To her, it was all about your mindset. If you wanted things to change, wanted them to be better, then just change your perspective. Maybe that’s what Brynn and I needed to do—change our perspective, change how we came at this thing.

If something so simple could actually work for us, I didn’t mind being the one to get us started.

We had never made physical contact. Well, scratch that… we hadn’t made physical contact either of us could
remember
. Because of that, Brynn stiffened when I touched her hand. We didn’t quite know one another well enough for me to go into detail about my childhood, but the way I came up definitely affected the way I intended to parent. I had my reasons for wanting to make it clear that this kid had me for life. It didn’t matter that Brynn and I weren’t together. I had just as much stake in this as she did.

“Listen, I know we got off on the wrong foot and all, but… I’m in this. All the way,” I assured her. “If you have an appointment; I’m there. If you start feeling sick and need someone to take you to the hospital; I’m there. When the crazy food cravings start hitting you and you don’t feel like getting out of bed to make your own peanut butter and ketchup sandwich,” I paused when she burst out laughing, “I’ll be there for that, too. Just…
call
,” I added. “For real. I got you.”

And I meant every word of that.

When I removed my hand, Brynn’s fingers curled into a loose fist on the counter, but she didn’t pull it away. She was thinking hard, a fact made clear by the tension in her brow. We were in this together whether we liked it or not. As unsure and scared as I was, I was positive she felt all of that ten times worse.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “I really appreciate you saying all of that.”

“I’m not just saying it, Brynn,” I corrected. “I mean it. If you need something, I’m here for you. You should never have to call anyone but me.”

A slow nod accompanied her thoughtful expression, an expression that preceded a question. “What changed your mind?” she asked, meeting my gaze again. “Was it just finding out for sure that he or she is yours?”

I gave her question some thought and nodded, still feeling like a dick for putting her on hold for those two weeks after she first told me. “Yeah… I just needed to know. I’ve seen dudes get emotionally invested in kids that ended up being some other man’s,” I explained. “I apologize if I hurt your feelings, though.”

She did that sexy thing with her lip again—clamped it between her teeth for a second before speaking. “You really don’t need to apologize again,” she said. “This baby has me all in my feelings
all
the time, so I’m sure that was some of it. Plus, like I said before, I had some other stuff going on that day, so that wasn’t all supposed to be directed at you,” she explained. “So, I’m sorry, too.”

I waved her off. “Don’t be. We’re cool.”

When the conversation between us went silent, I stared at her and a strange feeling hit me. I started thinking this, us getting along, us getting through this, might actually be much easier than I once thought possible.

Needing something to say to make the way I watched her seem relatively natural, I went back to my original question.

“So when do we go find out if I’mma be using my
Louisville Slugger
to teach my son to play ball or using it to scare fools away from my daughter?”

Brynn laughed, soft, easy. I liked the sound of it. “The next ultrasound appointment is in three weeks—as soon as I turn four months.”

I made a mental note of the info. “And you’re cool with me being in there with you, right? I mean… ‘cause I’d like to be.”

That pretty smile came back when she answered my question. “I’m definitely cool with that.”

Marco

Helping with dinner was never as simple as just showing up and getting started. There always seemed to be a mandatory, last minute grocery run involved, too. This time, we were short on green bananas for the
alcapurrias
, so I ended up back at the same grocery store I stopped at to get Brynn’s flowers earlier. I grabbed a bag and headed toward the front of the store to check out.

Lines were almost always long on Sundays because of sales and people stocking up for the week. Today was no different. While I waited, my mind went back to the conversation I had earlier with Brynn and I felt much better about everything now that we had a chance to talk. She knew where I stood; I knew where she stood. We’d get through this.

Now that the air was clear, a small part of me was starting to get excited. Just a little. Knowing me, as soon as we found out the sex, I’d be buying up clothes for the kid left and right. I hadn’t been around a baby since my niece, Isobel, was born, but I remembered the extreme need I felt to protect her. I could only imagine I’d be at
least
that bad when my own finally got here.

“What’s got you smiling all hard?” came a soft voice off to my right, making me aware of the expression on my face. I glanced that way and paused, surprised by who stood beside me. Long, brown hair with gold streaked through it cascaded over Elena’s shoulders and it was like time had stood still. She looked exactly the same as last time we ran into each other years ago. Her bronze-toned cheeks had a twinge of pink spreading beneath them.

“Oh wow! What’s up? How’ve you been?” I finally said, hearing the shock in my voice as I greeted the one and only woman I ever chased in my entire life. The soft skin of her bare arms went around my neck as she squeezed, holding me for a good five seconds. I hugged her back with my one free arm, the other still gripping the bag of bananas.

Elena stepped back and looked me over, letting her green eyes drag up my biceps and chest. For years, I tried to get at her, but, for whatever reason, she never gave in. We were the same age, but she was always one of those girls who was into older guys. So, she passed me up for dudes with money and cars—two things I didn’t have back then.

Her folks used to own a house around the corner from my parents’. So even after me and my other two sisters went to stay with Lucia, I still visited the old neighborhood… mostly so I could see
this
girl.

“I’ve been good!” she answered, her eyes again trained on my chest. She drew in a breath and smiled like she hadn’t been caught. “And you!” she said excitedly, gesturing toward me with her hand. “I heard you’ve been doing well, too. Word on the street is you got your own shop now. That true?”

I smiled back at her, but not nearly as big as she did. “It is. Been in business for a little while.”

“
Fantastico!
Good for you!
”
The corner of her mouth twitched with a smile and the red in her cheeks deepened even more. “And uh… you’re still doing your other thing, too?”

I laughed a bit, rubbing my hand across my chin when I nodded. “Yeah, I’m still there, too.”

“
Indecent Exposure
, right?”

“You’ve got a good memory.”

She glanced away, grinning, looking everywhere but at me. The line moved up a foot or two and Elena followed, although she wasn’t ready to check out. Her empty cart told me so.

“Last I heard you moved to Colorado or something like that.” I couldn’t remember where the info came from, but that was the most recent update I had on her.

She nodded to confirm. “Yeah, you heard right. My job transferred me.”

I nodded, checking her out less discreetly than she’d done while looking at me a moment ago. It was no secret I thought she was fine—then
or
now. “So, you’re just here in Houston visiting?”

She shook her head. “Actually, no. I’m moving back in a few months, but I had to fly in the last couple weekends to get some things in order first.”

I nodded as I listened, feeling bold all of a sudden.

“We should—”

“Let’s get together soon,” Elena blurted, beating me to the punch. We both smiled.

“Yeah… I’d like that.”

She licked her lips and gave a small nod. “So would I.” Reaching inside her purse she grabbed her phone and I gave her my number. She sent a text right away so I’d have hers, too.

“I should be back and settled in a couple months. I’ll call.” There was a promise buried beneath the words and I heard it loud and clear.

“All right. Yeah… you do that.”

*****

If I knew my mother as well as I thought I did, she was in the kitchen dancing to the loud salsa music that greeted me the moment I stepped onto the porch. My father was likely out working on something in the garage, the Sunday routine he’d settled into within the past decade. They’d wake up early Sunday morning, go to Mass, and then he ended up in the garage while Ma cooked.

Walking in, peering toward the back of the house, I found my mother doing exactly what I expected—getting her dance on while something simmered on the stove. She waved and didn’t miss a beat. I set the bananas down on the kitchen table and then washed my hands in the sink.

“Thank you for stopping at the store.”

“
De nada, Ma
. It was on the way.”

Turning her music down just a little, my mother came closer. Barely matching the height of my shoulder, she had to reach up to pinch my cheek, which made me smile. She patted my arm and danced her way back over to the stove.

Not wanting to get my good shirt messed up while I cooked, I pulled it over my head and draped it across the back of a chair. The ribbed tank I had on underneath was good enough anyway in this blazing, Texas heat. Cooking big meals was a chore when temperatures got as high as they were today, especially seeing as how my parents hated turning on the air conditioner.

Ma took care of the
alcapurrias
while I cooked and seasoned the rice, and then one by one my sisters, nieces, and brother in law showed up. Eventually, my father came in from the garage, too. It was habit for everyone to come in and head straight for the dining room table. Lucia set a place for everyone as I brought out the two pitchers of lemonade my mother made. As soon as I set them down, I scooped up the prettiest little lady in the room—my niece, Isobel.

“You miss me?” I asked her, pausing to nod at my brother-in-law, Max, when I passed him.

Isobel’s head bobbed quickly to express just how much. Right after that, keeping to our routine, she held her hand out. I looked around, pretending to be inconspicuous as I dug down inside my pocket. When I dropped a quarter into the center of her palm, she giggled and hid it in the pocket on her dress.

“
Gracias, Tio,”
she whispered.

“
Te amo, mija
,” I whispered back. Landing another kiss on her cheek, I set her down in a seat beside her mom.

I was just about to head back into the kitchen when my oldest niece, Rosalina, nearly tackled me with a hug. “I know I already called to say thank you for my car, but I wanted to say it again in person. Thank you soooooo much! I love it!”

I embraced her just as tightly as she had me. “You’re welcome. Just take care of it. And don’t drive all crazy, okay? You’ll give your mother a heart attack.”

Off to the side, I caught Lucia shaking her head at me. Yeah, she hated that I did all this behind her and her husband’s back, but she couldn’t help but to smile a little, too.

“I won’t. I promise,” Rosalina chirped, heading back to her seat beside my father where she immediately got back on her phone, talking a mile a minute to one of her friends.

I was about to leave the room again and remembered something else. Doubling back, I leaned down to kiss the top of Marcela’s head, sliding a check into her hand right after. Tuition was due and I wanted to make sure she got it in on time. She caught my hand as I walked away, silently mouthing a genuine
‘thank you’.

I gave a small nod and finally made it back to finish helping my mother. The plan was to tell them all about Brynn and the soon-coming addition to the family sometime between dinner and dessert. There would likely be a mixture of feelings in the room, but I didn’t care a whole lot about what they thought. Things happen and, like I said, I was starting to feel a little excited about it myself.

“Okay, carry the rice for me and we can all eat.”

I followed my mother’s orders and placed the hot pan on the potholder she set out on the table.

“Alberto,” she said, addressing my father, “bless the food, please?”

Nodding once, my father bowed his head and prayed over the meal just like every Sunday.

“Amen,” everyone said in unison. Right after that, the noise level rose to the usual volume as our family caught up on everything that had gone on throughout the week.

“Bel, did you show
Abuelita
your report card, sweetheart?” Marcela asked, prompting Isobel to hop out of her seat and rush to her mother’s purse. Fishing out an envelope, she marched back over to the table with a proud grin on her face.

Forks and knives against porcelain dishes was the only sound now as everyone gave Bel their undivided attention. Taking her time, tiny hands pulled a sheet of green paper from inside the envelope. She handed it over to my mother and waited.

Ma’s eyes scanned the sheet and then her smile grew to match Isobel’s. “
Ay dios mio, Isobel!
You’re doing so well! Show this to
Papito
,” Ma insisted. Isobel happily handed the paper to my father and his eyes grew, putting on a show to let my niece know how proud he was of her.

“Would you look at this?” he said loudly, almost making me choke on my food when I laughed. “I think Bel’s the smartest person in the room! Even smarter than you, Lorna!”

My sister rolled her eyes with a laugh, taking the joke from my father in stride. It was no secret she was the family know-it-all, the one who tossed her views and opinions around whether we wanted her to or not.

“We’re so proud of you,” my mother added.

“Now put it back in my purse and come finish your food,” Marcela said, still grinning.

As a single mother, I’d seen my baby sister work twice as hard to provide a good life for my niece. And that hadn’t always been easy. Finding out her junior year of high school that she was expecting took everyone by surprise, but Marcela was determined to see her dreams through no matter what. She was all set to take out loans to pay her way through nursing school, but I wouldn’t hear of it. I wanted her to finish free and clear, able to use her hard earned money to spoil the hell out of my niece, not worrying about having to pay off that huge debt.

“So who else has good news for me,” Ma said, glancing around the table as she took food onto her fork.

“Uncle Marco got me a car!” Rosalina piped.

My mother glanced up at me, wearing the same look Lucia had the other day when she came to my job to rip me a new one.

“So I heard,” Ma replied. “But if you ask me, a young girl doesn’t need a fancy sports car. Those things make you want to speed.”

“I don’t drive like that,
Abuelita
. Seriously. I’m a good driver.”

Lucia mumbled something under her breath, clearly disagreeing with her daughter.

“Well, I have a plan to make
sure
she’s responsible,” Max interjected. “The first time she comes through my door with a ticket, I’m taking those keys.”

I passed a look toward Rosalina, agreeing wholeheartedly with her father’s statement.

“I still say she could’ve taken the Cutlass,” my father chimed in, earning a series of moans and mumbles from around the table.

“No offense,
Papito
, but that thing’s gross,” Rosalina replied, speaking her mind. “Not to mention, it’s ancient.”

My father placed his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. “I’ll have you know that
‘ancient’
car got this family through some pretty hard times.”