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Marco (The Men of Indecent Exposure #1)(28)

By:Raven St. Pierre


"I'm sorry," I said softly, staring at my bare feet as I recalled the  events from the day before that caused me to retreat inside my shell.

I looked up to find his eyes on me, scanning me to make sure I was  really all right. He studied my face for a few seconds before using a  more gentle tone. "What happened? Why weren't you picking up?"

A heavy sigh left my mouth and I moved over to the couch where I plopped  down. He sat close by in the armchair, still watching me. When I didn't  readily answer his question, he spoke again. "I apologize for dropping  in on you like this, but I did try to call first."         

     



 

I dismissed his apology with a wave. It made sense that he stopped over,  especially seeing as how I probably scared him by not at least shooting  him a text to say I was okay.

"It's fine," I assured him, but didn't add anything else.

His heavy stare could be felt. One thing that stood out about him was  how commanding his presence was at times, even when he wasn't trying.  Like now. All he did was watch me while he waited for further  explanation, but I could hardly sit still with his eyes on me.

"You're feeling okay? Is it the headaches again? The dizziness?" were his next questions when I couldn't find my words.

I blew out a breath. There had been another episode, but I didn't feel  like getting into that. Every time I went to see my doctor, my blood  pressure had been slightly elevated and that was likely the culprit for  the spell I had last night as well. There was definitely a link between  my stress level and how good or bad I felt.

"I'm fine," I finally answered, but lowered my head right after.

I heard Marco take a breath from his seat. "I know there's more you're  not saying, but it's not my business. As long as you and the baby are  good, I won't press you. I just didn't know what to think when I  couldn't get you on the phone."

I appreciated him not pushing me for details. Yesterday and that meeting  were things I wanted to forget. Marco and I sat there in silence for a  moment, but my question interrupted it.

"Don't you have to be at work soon?" I asked, feeling guilty. Most  likely this little detour would make him late. I'd gotten his routine  down somewhat over the weeks, based on our phone schedule. We'd usually  text during the week on my lunch break and sometimes once at night.  Then, Saturday mornings I'd get a quick text on his drive in to the  shop-nothing formal, just his usual, ‘Hey, how're you feeling? Do you  need anything,' message. Sometimes, I'd beat him to the punch and let  him know I was awake and doing well before he asked.

"It's fine. I have Pete opening up for me so I could come see about you," he answered.

Yeah, I definitely wouldn't dismiss his phone calls again. I got the  impression my lapse in judgment had interrupted his life quite a bit.

"I feel terrible for making you come here. Yesterday was just …  it was a  long day," I concluded, not wanting to say much more than that.

He shook his head. "As long as you and my little princessa are okay, you don't need to explain."

Despite the bad mood I was in, I smiled at that, his nickname for her.

Marco smiled back, gesturing toward my tummy when he asked his next question. "Has she still been moving?"

I gave a nod. "Every so often. Actually, when you first came in and spoke I felt her."

His smile widened and mine did, too, at the sight of it. It was  incredible the turn he'd taken, how on board he was with being a father  now. In a matter of a few months, he'd done a complete one-eighty.

His stare lingered on my stomach for a moment and it dawned on me he'd  never touched it before, had never gotten to feel his daughter growing  inside there. When we went for the ultrasound weeks ago, he'd asked me  then to loosen up around him. This wasn't just my experience, it was  his, too, and I didn't want him to miss a minute of it. Not seeing as  how he was more than willing to be involved.

"Would you like to feel it?" I asked, bringing his eyes back to mine. "I  mean, I can't guarantee she'll kick or that it'll be strong enough for  you to feel even if she does, but …  you can try if you want to."

His expression softened and my heart fluttered. Without words, Marco  stood from his seat and he came closer as I got up from the couch. I  undid the tie of my robe and let it fall open, revealing my rounded  tummy through my thin, cotton nightgown. Normally, I wouldn't have been  this comfortable with a man I'd known for such a short time, but Marco  wasn't just some guy.

He was close enough now that I picked up on the hint of spearmint on his  breath and his mellow cologne. Keeping my eyes fixed on the tattoos on  his arm helped distract me from the way heat crept up my legs, and then  the rest of me, just because he was in my personal space. Looking down  on me, both his hands went to my stomach. Right away, his warmth  penetrated my skin.

Air left my lungs erratically and I hoped he didn't notice. My breasts  heaved up and down as I stood there trying to pretend not to like the  way his hands felt on me. That had been one of the few things that stuck  with me from that night and for good reason. A flash of us, a memory  from our encounter, flooded my mind out of nowhere and I heard the sound  of my own cries of pleasure as I breathed them into the crook of his  neck, feeling the velvety texture of his hair against my face. The  intensity of the flashback nearly made me snatch away from him, but I  somehow held my composure and managed to stay close.         

     



 

Minus a bra, my nipples hardened beneath my gown and I felt myself  getting wetter as the seconds ticked past. This pregnancy had me horny  all the time anyway, but not like this. This was all because of him.  Every freakin' time.

"I think I felt her," he said in a low, gruff voice. The sound of it always sent a chill through me.

I nodded to confirm, letting him know I felt it, too. He shook his head  as the corner of his mouth turned up into a smile, completely unaware of  the sensations such a simple touch had ignited inside me.

"That's incredible."

Again, all I did was nod, grateful when he pulled his hands away and I  was able to re-secure my robe. I instantly moved back to the couch,  putting a fair amount of distance between us.

"I swear it seems like I just saw you, but you're showing so much more than you were then." He smiled and took his seat again.

The observation brought to mind the meeting I sat through the day before and I felt my expression go slack.

"So, I was thinking; we, meaning you, keep putting off meeting my  family, but I think you should come to dinner with me next Sunday."  White teeth flashed my way in between statements. "I can only keep them  tame for so long and they're all over me about meeting you."

Lowering my head, I smiled a little. He was right that I'd been avoiding  it. I was just so nervous and with what went down yesterday, I wasn't  sure I was ready for another stressful confrontation. However, Marco was  certain they'd love me, so …  I accepted his invitation.

First nodding, I let him know I was in. "Okay," I sighed. "I'll go."

If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was more excited about this than  he was letting on. "Cool. We eat around five, so I'll come get you at  four."

My fingers tingled with anxiety, but I didn't let it show.

"Should I bring anything?" I asked. Living in Texas, I picked up a few  Puerto Rican recipes over the years. "Something for dessert maybe?"

Marco seemed shocked that I offered, but pleased when he gave a nod. "I think Ma would like that."

Then it was settled. In a little over a week, I'd be meeting Marco's  people. Hopefully, it wouldn't be a disaster like I feared. Besides, at  this point, I was pretty sure I'd endured the worst of the storm when I  came face to face with the headmaster. Compared to that, meeting the  rest of the Rios clan should be a piece of cake, right?





Chapter Thirteen




Brynn

Nothing looked right.

Nothing.

The pile of clothes on my bed kept growing and I was having zero luck  finding something to wear to dinner. Today, in particular, was important  and I couldn't leave the house looking frumpy. It meant a lot to me  that I made a good impression on Marco's mother in particular. It seemed  like he held her in high regard, so I was sure she'd be watching me  like a hawk-the woman carrying her only son's child.

There was no telling what they already thought of me, seeing as how I  was pretty sure they knew the gist of the circumstances surrounding my  hookup with Marco. Meeting them face to face, in a sense, would be the  second impression I'd make on them. The first came in the form of  Marco's baby announcement several weeks ago. I was scared out of my mind  about this, but I'd run out of excuses to stall. Today was the day.

With the strong craving I had for all things coconut lately, I decided  to prepare arroz con dulce for dessert. Hopefully, it was up to his  mother's standard. I got the impression she was one hell of a cook, so I  put my all into this recipe-checking and double-checking my  measurements, using the highest quality ingredients. This dinner had to  go perfectly.