His tone was solemn now as he dug and pulled those thoughts and emotions from somewhere deep within his soul. When I wiped my face, he turned toward me.
"You're crying?" he asked, his voice coming across gentle.
I sniffled. "No, I just have something in my eye," I lied, laughing a bit.
He smiled and turned onto his side to face me, reaching over to collect the tears from my cheek with his thumb. "There's nothing to be sad about," he assured me. "I'm not unhappy. I just wanted you to understand."
I don't think my sadness was brought on by thinking he was unhappy. He just took on so much; put such pressure on himself. That had to be a lot for any one person to bear.
A long, hard stare settled on me and Marco's hand slipped behind my neck. I looped his wrist lightly with my fingers, gazing right back at him. My eyes fluttered closed as a kiss was placed in the center of my forehead and then another on the tip of my nose.
When he eased back, I found his gaze again. I believed his words, about him not being unhappy. Being his family's rock was simply all he knew to be and I didn't fault him for that. Actually, seeing how he was with them only assured me of what a good father he'd be. It made me confident that our little girl would be safe with him and could depend on him.
Always.
Chapter Eighteen
Marco
She knew everything there was to know about me. Everything worth telling, anyway-the good, the bad-and she was still here in my bed, right where we'd fallen asleep side-by-side the night before.
With her back to me now, I watched the side of her torso rise and fall steadily as she breathed deep. She looked so comfortable; comfortable and relaxed, which was my reason for inviting her over in the first place. After the rough day she had, I just felt better being able to keep an eye on her through the night. There were no ulterior motives, no expectations; this really was just about making sure she took it easy for the evening.
That doesn't mean it was easy keeping my hands to myself, but somehow, I managed to not go back on my promise.
However, every man has his limits and I'd definitely reached mine.
I couldn't be trusted to lie in bed with her for much longer, not without at least touching her. Deciding to put distance between us, I turned and sat on the edge of the bed. The plan was to get my shower out of the way while she slept, but that changed when the bed shifted behind me as Brynn turned over. The next second, a soft hand pressed against the bare skin of my back. It was only that one touch as her fingers slipped down my spine and she didn't linger long, but it was enough to make me aware of how much I liked having her here to wake up to.
"Morning," she yawned.
I smiled at the raspy sound of her voice. "Morning," I said back. "How'd you sleep?" I turned to lay eyes on her face before she answered, not surprised in the least by the fact that she woke up beautiful.
"Like a rock," she said with a laugh, stretching her hands up toward the headboard. "I didn't snore, did I?"
"Hell yeah, you did. I started to put you out in the hall around two," I teased, making her laugh harder.
"Stop lying."
"Nah, I'm messing with you. If you did, I was too tired to notice." I apparently decided to put the shower on hold, because I was now all the way back in bed, chilling on top of the cover.
Brynn was quiet for a moment and my eyes went to her, observing as she stared past me and focused across the room on nothing in particular. I still couldn't believe I finally told her about the work I do. It needed to come out, but I can admit that I liked being able to keep that side of my life private. Like I told her the night before, I'd never been embarrassed for people to know I'm an entertainer, but for some reason, with her, it was different.
Time after time I came up with excuses or convenient sidesteps to avoid having the conversation we had last night, but that was only because I enjoyed having her look at me and not see a stripper. I'm not delusional. I know the things people say behind my back, or at least the things they secretly think about people who do what I do. Not telling her was easier than having to wonder if she was now thinking those things, too.
I hated to admit it, but I felt vulnerable as hell with all my business out there. The last thing I wanted was to slow the natural progression of whatever we were becoming. I liked her. A lot. More than I'd liked any woman in a long time. Yes, having a kid together was what got us this far, but … maybe this all happened for a reason. Maybe it took something like that to get us to this point.
Hopefully, being honest hadn't ruined my chances.
Hopefully.
I'd seen it time and time again with the guys I work with. Being in serious relationships and doing what we do never seemed to work out. The irony of being the fantasy of a woman you've never met, while being the nightmare of the one you love is a hard pill to swallow. It's a lot to ask someone you care about to accept that you seduce women for a living. From what I'd seen, it never ended well. The guys who tried were always conflicted between needing the work and also needing their woman.
The ones who actually attempted to maintain relationships talked about the grief they got at home, the constant accusations of cheating, the arguments that kept them up at night. It always seemed to end the same way, too. They would hold on as long as they could, but their girls would end up not being able to take feeling like they were one of many and they'd walk away. As many women as we seemed to have when we were out there on that stage, for the most part, we're a lonely breed.
"Something on your mind?" I finally got up the nerve to ask.
When I spoke, Brynn blinked a few times and then met my gaze with a smile. I couldn't help but wonder if it was forced. "No, I'm fine," she answered. I wasn't sure I believed that.
I wouldn't be able to function if I didn't get this off my chest, so I decided to rehash our dialogue from the night before. "So, uh … were you cool with everything we talked about? Is there anything you wanna know? Anything you wanna ask?"
She shook her head and maintained that vague smile. "Nope. Nothing I can think of right now."
Damn, I hadn't cared this much about what someone thought of me in a long time. "Well, if you ever feel the need to bring it up, I want you to feel comfortable doing that."
Listening to myself, I could practically hear the insecurity in my voice and I hated it. This, beating around the bush, wasn't me. I had to just say what was on my mind and be straight up with her.
"O-" Brynn started, but then I cut her off with a question.
"Did I change everything by telling you what I do?" I asked. "Because I uh … you know … I kinda like what's happening between us," I admitted. It was hard to catch my breath while I waited for a response, but, to the naked eye, I was completely calm.
Brynn didn't answer right away, which I appreciated her giving this some thought, but I became more nervous with every second that passed. We couldn't deny where this was headed, but I hoped I hadn't just ruined my chances.
Brown eyes found mine when she was ready to respond and I tried not to predict what she'd say. "You didn't change my feelings," she started, and then her eyes slipped away again, going back to the other side of the room when she went on. "I just … being honest, I haven't really processed it all yet."
My hope deflated as I wondered what would happen once she actually had time to sit and think about it. Her voice came back and I listened harder this time, trying to catch any inkling that I hadn't scared her off.
"I've never been in a situation like this. Any of this, actually. So, all I've tried to do lately is take life one day at a time." She looked up. "So, I suppose that's how I should handle this, too, you know? Like … I guess what I'm trying to say is that I haven't counted you out."
But she wasn't ready to make any promises either. That was the other part of that statement, the part she kept to herself for fear of hurting my feelings, the part that worried me.
I gave a nod and couldn't blame her for feeling the way she did. The next second warm fingers slipped between mine and I stared at the contrast of her beautiful, dark skin against my lighter tone. Focusing on the clear polish on her nails, I listened when she spoke again.
"Thank you for trusting me enough to share those things with me," she said softly.
My head was still stuck on wondering if she'd soon change her mind about me, but I hid how distracted I was with a faint smile.
"It wasn't a big deal," I lied. "I appreciated you listening."
"No problem," she said back, squeezing my fingers a little.
This was uncomfortable. I needed to change the subject. "What about you? You feel better?"