Chapter 14
Samuel
Slipping into a new pair of pajama pants, I make my way to the living room, picking up discarded clothing as I go. A smirk crosses my face to see the scattered garments. I definitely wasn’t expecting to get her naked again so soon, but the sight of Marcy straight out of the shower without makeup and a mess of red curls surrounding her while wearing my clothes shot an electric bolt straight through my heart.
My stomach growls and I know Marcy will be hungry by now as well. With the events of last night and everything that’s happened today, I’d imagine she worked up quite an appetite.
The kitchen stays stocked thanks to Mrs. McCoy. She comes in twice a week with groceries and miscellaneous other things that are needed around the apartment. I hate being anywhere with large crowds, I’m always on guard and waiting for something to happen.
I was just back home after retiring from the Army when an easy trip to the supermarket turned into a nightmare. I’m pretty sure I scared the living shit out of the old lady, but in my defense, she had just dropped a large jar of sauce from the top shelf making a crashing sound behind me. Without hesitation, I dropped my things to the ground and immediately drew my carry weapon. She turned so pale that she vomited right in front of me. I ran out of that store as fast as my legs would carry me, never to return to that particular store. The next day, Mrs. McCoy was hired to do all my personal shopping. I blame the military for the emotional torment I went through that I carried over to civilian life.
Since it’s late afternoon, I decide on making pesto pasta with chicken. I remember little Marcy loved pasta. Hopefully, she hasn’t changed on me too much.
Switching on the bluetooth speakers, I get to work preparing the meal. Lost in my thoughts and the music, I don’t notice when Marcy approaches, leaning against the wall to the kitchen.
“Wow, if mom could see the way you move around the kitchen she would be proud.” Marcy smiles with a nostalgic look on her face. She has her hair wrapped up on top of her head and wearing more of my clothes. My breath leaves my lungs when I look down at her, she looks more gorgeous everytime I lay my eyes on her.
“She taught me everything I know. I owe her more than I can express,” I reply. She nods her head as she twirls around the kitchen looking at everything. I have to admit that I’m proud of this part of my apartment. When I bought it, the kitchen wasn’t nearly what I wanted it to be so I hired a designer and a construction crew to make my visions come to life.
When I was younger, Mrs. Hillary was always feeding me. It didn’t take her long to figure out that I watched as she cooked, trying to learn everything she was doing. My parent’s both worked long hours leaving me to fend for myself. She ended up pulling me to the kitchen and teaching me the basics before challenging me with more complicated recipes.
“This is a beautiful kitchen, Sam. It beats mine hands down. Not that I use it much,” Marcy muses as she turns back looking up at me with those radiant green eyes.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” She wrings her hands in front of her and I find that her nerves don’t sit well with me. I want her to feel comfortable here. Fuck, she needs to get used to it.
Kissing the back of her hand, I lead her around the corner to the stools that look into the open kitchen area.
“Sit. You don’t need to do anything. Would you like a glass of wine?” I ask as I turn back toward the kitchen.
“Yeah I guess, I didn’t realize how late it was. You didn’t have to do all this.” She gestures to the pots and pans on the stove.
“I was hungry and figured you would be too.” I pour a glass of white wine and set it in front of her.
“Oh,” she replies. “Thank you.” Marcy takes a sip of the wine, closing her eyes as the flavors explode over her tongue. I knew she would like it. A little moan escapes her lips and I have to shift myself to keep from making my throbbing cock noticeable.
“You haven’t turned vegan or anything have you?” I smirk.
“Definitely not.”
“Good. I knew you couldn’t say no to a good bowl of pasta.”
“You remembered?” She looks at me puzzled.
“I noticed a lot more than you think.”
A cute blush creeps up her neck to her cheeks as she turns away to take another sip of wine. I finish up everything that needs to be done and place the dish into the oven. There’s a talk that Marcy and I need to have and this is the perfect time. Wine might be needed for this so I pour myself a glass as well.
“Come with me.” My hand links with hers as I lead her back through the living room. I don’t think her sitting on my lap will get much accomplished based on our earlier actions, so I take my seat at the couch and gesture for her to do the same.
My leg settles on the couch so I can position myself to look straight at her.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, taking her plump bottom lip into her mouth.
“We need to talk about this morning when you were trying to get out of here as fast as you could.” I look at her pointedly. She shrinks under my gaze letting me know that I need to ease her into all this. “I wanted to talk this morning but things…escalated…” I trail off seeing her rosy cheeks appear again. Damn this woman can get me hot and bothered by doing nothing. Marcy leans over and places her glass down then looks back at me
“I, well, this is a lot.” She motions between us.”I always wanted, but never expected…” Her eyes widen at me like she just let slip a major secret although it’s one I’ve known for many years.
“You were upset about Matthew this morning. What was on your mind?”
She blows out a deep breath. “I guess it made me feel guilty to hook up with his best friend. I always feel guilty when something goes well in my life, like I don’t deserve it since he’s not here. Like I’m being selfish. Does that make sense?” she asked as she covers her face with her hands.
Pulling her hands away from her flushed face, I take them in mine, squeezing lightly so her attention turns to me.
“This wasn’t just some hookup and you know that.”
“Do I?” she questions.
“Listen, I’ve dealt with survivors” guilt. I’ve asked myself why it had to be him and not me. He had you to come back to. I’ve had countless nights where I lay awake wondering why it wasn’t me.” I pause gathering my thoughts. Tears are streaming down her beautiful face and I know I would do anything to take that pain away. Scrubbing my hand down my face, I continue.
“He isn’t here for you but I am.” She rolls her eyes at my remark, throwing me off. What did I say wrong?
“If you were here for me then why did you leave me alone for so long? You could have visited or even written me from the military. Why did you just cast me aside? I thought…” she hiccups now full on crying. She rises from the couch throwing a decorative pillow down.
“At the funeral you-you kissed me for fucks sake. Do you know what that did to me? I was grieving my brother and making out with his best friend…” Marcy wipes her hands across her cheeks gathering the tears. “I felt so guilty but also confused. You just kissed me and ran away as quickly as you could. No words were said. Just vanished.” Marcy storms around me grabbing her purse but before she can get anywhere I reach my arm out to stop her.
“You aren’t going anywhere, princess. Now get your ass back on this couch.”
“I’m not your ‘princess’, Sam! This is so fucked up.” She runs her hands through her mess of curls grasping hard out of frustration. “I’m not your anything! Let’s just leave it at that, like it was before when you kept your distance. This was a mistake.” Marcy side steps my hand and runs toward the door. I’ll be damned if I lose her when I just got her. She’s mine.
Her hand on the knob, I swiftly pivot her toward me. Our eyes lock, a charged moment suspended in time. The air thickens, anticipation humming between us. What secrets lie hidden behind those eyes? What unspoken desires simmer beneath the surface? The room fades away, leaving only the two of us, caught in this intimate dance of tension and possibility.
“Listen to me,” I cup her face between my hands, “I shouldn’t have kissed you at the funeral.” Marcy scoffs trying to duck away from me but my body has her pinned to the door. “I only say that because it almost killed me when I had to pull away from you.” My thumb rubs a tear from her cheek as her attention comes back to me. Her emerald gems gleam up at me.
“Then why did you?” she whispers, her voice cracking. The room pulses with tension, our breaths mingling in the charged air. Her eyes search mine, seeking answers. Demanding truth.
I let out a deep sigh. “I was going back overseas. I didn’t know what would happen and I didn’t want to cause you any more grief, more heartache. I was trying to protect you, dammit. Don’t you get that? I had to leave…” I lean my head against hers needing the connection.
“I didn’t need you to protect me. All this time I thought you regretted it. It was so unbearable I could hardly breathe.” Marcy sobs into her hands letting out all the emotions she had kept hidden away all these years.
“Shh…I never regretted kissing you. Never. My only regret was leaving you in the first place. But I’m here now and I’m not leaving. You can’t get rid of me, sunshine. I told you that I would always be here for you and it’s time I show you how much I mean that.”
“Really?” her tone isn’t convinced.
“I would never lie to you, baby.”
Marcy wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer. My lips brush against hers softly before we hear the timer on the oven sound through the penthouse.
I smile against her lips. “C’mon, let me feed you.”
I lead her to the dining area beside a large bank of windows. Once I pull out her chair, I kiss her temple then head to the kitchen for our food.
The pesto chicken smells divine as I make two plates for us. Placing the wide bowls on the table, I rush to the living room to grab our forgotten glasses of wine.
“Thought you might want this.” I take my seat across from Marcy, my eyes never leaving hers as she leans over to smell the pasta. The euphoric expression that lines her face is all the praise I need.
“Thank you for doing all of this, Sam. It looks amazing.” Her eyes glimmer in the reflection of the setting sun behind me making it hard for me to focus on anything else. I’d much rather sit here watching as she enjoys the meal instead of me diving in as well.
“I needed to make sure you were fed.” My shoulders shrugging as I take a sip of wine. The delicious notes of fruit and vanilla explode over my tongue.
Marcy takes a bite of the pasta, her eyes falling closed as she sighs.
“I never thought I would taste her pesto chicken again. It was always my favorite Italian dish she cooked. This is incredible, Sam,” she gushes as she takes another bite having the same response. The happiness I see on her face makes me want to be the one that always puts it there.
We continue eating and catching up on things that have happened in our lives since the funeral, although we don’t mention that event. I already know all about her but it makes me happy that she is opening up to me. We laugh and talk long after our meals are finished. I admit, I’ve missed having someone to talk to. It’s quiet when you work alone from your home office. But what’s more, we connect on such an intimate level much more than sex ever could be. Our conversations are as easy as they ever were when we were young. She still holds that fiery temper but has matured into this goddess before me that deserves everything in the world. And I want to make that happen.
We clean up the dishes and Marcy insists on helping with the kitchen. The music turns to “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed Sheeran, so I spin her hips away from the sink and into my arms.
“What are you–” Her question pauses as my lips descend upon hers. I pull her around the kitchen taking her hand in mine as my other grips her waist. Her face beams up at me, sending a jolt straight through my heart. We burst out laughing at my goofy moves but we come back together, closer. I decide to leave the rest of the mess for later as I throw her over my shoulder and march to the theater room.
“Will you let me down, you beast?” Marcy wiggles and laughs until I swat her ass hard eliciting a gasp.
“Didn’t expect that, did you?” I grin when I hear her humphs. Slowly, I pull her down over my body until the laughter has faded and her eyes are burning. “Let’s watch a movie.”
In Marcy’s attempt to escape, she didn’t realize that we stepped into a room that she’s never been in. Her eyes widen as she takes in the sight of the plush couches facing a huge screen.
“This is…” she breaks off, still admiring the room. I take a seat on the plush couch and she soon follows. My arms wrap around her, pulling her as close to me as possible. I don’t want space between us. It’s primal the way I need her touching me always, it simmers a rage within me that I didn’t know existed until her.
“Here. Pick whatever you want.” I hand her the tablet with every streaming/movie service available.
“Me? I don’t want to pick. You pick,” she says as she presses the tablet back into my hands.
“You haven’t even looked at anything yet. See if there’s something you like.” She mutters something under her breath but I don’t hear. I’m too busy watching her and memorizing every detail that has been too far away for me to notice. My investigator took images of her but they could never compare to the real thing that’s in my arms. A pit forms in my stomach thinking of the files I have on her. Before I can go too far down that road, Marcy pipes up.
“How about this?” It’s some chick flick but if that’s what she wants then that’s what goes.
The lights darken and I pull her on my lap as the movie begins. Her head rests perfectly on my chest allowing me to rub circles across her back.
The movie plays on but I can tell she’s fast asleep. The small soft snores are a melody I want to fall asleep to every night.
Scooping her into my arms, I carry her through the apartment and into my bedroom.
The blankets are already pulled back from this morning”s shenanigans.
I lay her down gently, tucking the sheets over her body. As I come around to my side, a wide grin forms on my face. I love seeing her like this. Wrapped in my blankets in my bed where she belongs. I climb in beside her pulling her body flush against mine, needing the warmth to know this is real. That she is real. I’ve dreamt of this too many times and finally she’s right here with me.
The warmth of her head against my chest, the gentle pressure of her arm around my waist—it’s a moment of perfect contentment. The world fades away, leaving only the two of us, cocooned in our own little universe. Her breaths are soft, rhythmic, and I can feel the rise and fall of her chest against mine. It’s as if we’ve found our place, our refuge from the chaos outside.
A knot forms in my stomach, a tangle of unspoken words that twist and tighten. The weight of silence presses down, a burden carried within. I need to bury the evidence that I had her followed, that I was always there just out of reach. She doesn’t need to know that I watched her from the shadows, that I’ve memorized the curve of her lips and the way her laughter dances through the air. I danced on the precipice of desire, teetering between the allure of the forbidden and the safety of restraint.
When our lips touched all those years ago, it sealed our fate. The memory of that moment hangs in the air like a fragile thread, connecting past and present. The taste of uncertainty mingled with desire, a bittersweet cocktail that left its mark on both their souls. She was always going to be mine even if I didn’t believe for a while.