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Marco (The Men of Indecent Exposure #1)(19)

By:Raven St. Pierre


I left there that night feeling like things went about as well as could  be expected. However, a call from Marcela came through the second my  head hit the pillow, letting me know I'd been naïve to think that.  Apparently, her convictions were too strong to let her sleep, hence the  reason my phone was ringing at midnight.

"Whassup?" I answered, yawning.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Now I was wide awake again, staring at the ceiling, apparently on the verge of getting cussed out.

"Maybe I could answer that if I knew what you were you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Marco," she scoffed. "You know good-and-damn-well what  this is about. A baby?" She screeched, making me move the phone away  from my ear a few inches. "Do you even know this girl? I mean …  I can't  believe you got yourself into this!"

I ran a hand down my face and breathed deep. I didn't go into detail  with them about how all of this happened, but they weren't stupid. Their  questions were minimal when I disclosed everything, but they knew I  hadn't been involved with anyone, so I was pretty sure they jumped to  their own conclusions; probably the right conclusions. Still, I wasn't  expecting Marcela, the baby, of all people, to call and check me.

But here we were …

"And what's your plan?" she asked next. I pictured her standing with her  hands on her hips like our mother used to do-and still does on  occasion-when she's trying to let us know we messed up.         

     



 

The answer to her question came easily, though. "I'm gonna be there."

"Oh really," she scoffed. "So, you think it'll be that simple?"

What the hell did she want from me?

"Marcela-"

"How could you be so stupid?"

My knee-jerk reaction was to defend myself, but then I considered the  source; considered who these harsh words were coming from. Marcela,  being a single parent, probably saw all of this from an angle no one  else in my family could relate to. When I made the connection, I chose  not to react and just let her talk.

"I did the single parent thing," she started. "It's not gonna be easy.  For you. For her. And if the two of you aren't careful, the kid stands  to be the most screwed up out of all of you!"

I took a deep breath and let that sink in.

"This just isn't what I wanted for you," she added. "And I don't know  this girl, but …  if this all happened how I think it happened, then I can  only imagine what she must be thinking and feeling right now, too."

The silence on the other end was incredibly loaded. Marcela hadn't had  it easy, even with all of us doing what we could to help. It wasn't just  about having a support system and finances for her; she struggled with  the emotional scars of things not working out like she wished, too.

"This is a full-time gig, Marco," she said solemnly. "It's a job you  can't clock out of. It's day. It's night. It's when you don't feel like  doing it. It's never-ending and I hoped that seeing me go through it  would've been lesson enough." She paused. "I mean …  I know I'm the  youngest, so I don't have a whole lot of life experiences I can teach  the rest of you about, but this one I definitely can," she added. "Trust  me when I say parenting alone is probably the hardest thing I've ever  faced."

I hated that my actions had her worrying like this. I imagined the other  two and my mother had similar thoughts, but hadn't shared them.  Marcela, given her circumstances, couldn't hold all of this in and I  respected that. I also respected that she waited to speak up until now.  Frustration brought on by the familiarity of the situation could've  easily caused her to lash out in front of everyone instead of doing this  in private.

"I'll be fine," I assured her, not making light of her feelings, but  just letting her know I was on top of things. "And I'm gonna be a good  father," I added, knowing that was the other side of her concern even if  she hadn't said it.

While, yes, she's my sister and she cares about my well-being first,  she's also a single mom who can, on many levels, relate to what Brynn  must be feeling, relate to how our actions can affect our child. Putting  it all into perspective, equating Brynn's condition to where I'd seen  Marcela when she was carrying Bel... I couldn't help but to reevaluate.  Honestly, it made me feel bad for maybe not handling this with the most  tact in the beginning. I was a bit callous and I'm sure that was the  last thing Brynn needed from me at the time.

If I hadn't already committed to being present, I definitely would have after hearing from Marcela.

I could hear a bit of a laugh in her voice when she responded, but there  was also some sniffling, too, which meant she was crying. "You better  be."

I smiled at that, amused by my baby sister schooling me for a change.

At first, I wasn't sure where this call was headed, but I actually ended  up appreciating it. Marcela had been down this road before, although  the details weren't exactly the same. I understood her wishing I'd been  more careful. I also understood her sympathy toward someone else who  might be feeling the same hurt she endured.

That someone else being Brynn.

"I'm glad you called to tell me how you feel," I admitted, meaning every word.

"Felt like I had to. These things can go really bad if both parties aren't willing to give it one-hundred."

That resonated with me and I would make sure to never forget it.

"And please don't hesitate to call if you need anything," she added.  "Advice. Someone to listen in silence while you rant. Anything."

I smiled and decided to mess with her a bit. "Only if you promise not to yell at me next time."

"Tell you what: I promise not to yell as long as you do the right thing," she countered with a laugh.

"I can do that," I promised, accepting her offer.

I would do my damnedest not to disappoint her or anyone else. I had a  lot to prove, a lot at stake, so I'd do the wise thing and take heed to  everything she shared with me. For now, it didn't matter that she was  younger than me or that I'd always been the one to look out for her-not  the other way around. She was right about everything and I had to admit  that.         

     



 

There was a load lifted off of me now that I'd gotten this all out into  the open. Hopefully, over time, anyone who hadn't already accepted that  there would be a new member of our clan, would get over it soon, because  this baby was coming either way. With my newfound point of view, I was  optimistic.

I'd do whatever it took to make sure this didn't turn out to be a  disaster and that started with doing the right thing, as Marcela said.

Who knew she'd grow up to be so smart?





Chapter Nine




Brynn

It felt like my bladder was about to freakin' explode. I uncrossed my  legs and crossed them again, trying to find a position I'd be more  comfortable in. Nothing worked. In fact, the more I fidgeted, the more  it felt like I'd wet myself. The first ultrasound I had weeks ago was  nowhere near this uncomfortable.

The door to the office swung open and I drew in a breath when Marco  stepped inside. His eyes were fixed on his phone screen, so he didn't  notice me right away, but I sure as hell noticed him. I hated myself for  being so attracted to him. We weren't even remotely close to being  together as a couple, but that didn't stop these damn hormones of mine  from betraying me every time he came into a room.

He was just so chill-the way he carried himself. From his relaxed  stride, to the way that slick smile always spread across his lips when  he looked at me.

He knew what the hell he was doin' …

Broad shoulders shifted with his gait as he crossed the waiting room.  His dark jeans were neatly pressed as was the gray and white, plaid  button-down he wore rolled to the elbow. I zoned in on his tattoo again  and then the rest of his arm.

His arms …  don't even get me started on them.

He must've practically lived in the gym to be ripped the way he was and  it wasn't in a bulky, overdone kind of way. He was cut, but still  somewhat lean.

Looking up at me with dark eyes, he smiled like I knew he would-slow,  unintentionally seductive-removing the white baseball cap from his head  as he came over.

"Mornin'," he greeted me.

I smiled back and tried to hide my thoughts as he took the seat beside  me, smelling like clean laundry and his cologne of choice, something  with a fresh scent as opposed to the spicy variety.

"Good morning."

"You feeling okay?" he asked, leaning to the opposite side of his chair to put his phone away.

I nodded and straightened my hair with my fingers, feeling a little more  self-conscious than usual. Always did around him for some reason. Maybe  it was because of the way I caught him staring at me sometimes or maybe  it was because of this wayward attraction I felt toward him.

On the one hand, he was smart, business-minded, always nicely dressed.  And on the other, he had this …  this bad boy side to him that showed  through in his laidback speech, all the tattoos, and the diamond stud in  his ear. Something just told me, if I could remember the sex, it would  be all I ever thought about.