Chapter 14
14
ENNIO
I stretched out, my limbs and my ass tingling with a mix of soreness and satisfaction, a testament to the spectacular sex with Marnin. As I blinked the sleep from my eyes, I smiled at the memory. It had been the best sex of my life, and moreover, he’d agreed to do it again.
Though maybe not today.
My body protested as I rolled out of bed, reminding me I wasn’t twenty anymore, but the little aches were badges of a night well spent. I padded across the room, my feet sinking into the plush carpet, and pulled on a pair of joggers and the softest tee I owned.
As I made my way to the kitchen, the scent of coffee hit me—strong and inviting. Marnin was already there, his tall frame hunched over the counter, cup in hand. His dark hair, flecked with gray, was tousled in that just-woke-up way, and he was dressed in sweatpants and a black T-shirt that hugged his lanky body.
“Hey,” I said, voice still thick with sleep as I leaned against the doorway.
Marnin glanced up, his eyes locking with mine for a moment before quickly shifting away. “Morning, Ennio.”
His awkwardness was palpable, rolling off him in waves. I recognized the closed-off look that said he was wading through uncharted emotional waters, trying to find solid ground again. It was endearing and frustrating all at once.
“Sleep okay?” I asked, making my way to the counter. I grabbed a mug from the cabinet, needing some caffeine myself.
“Fine.” He cleared his throat, his gaze darting around the room like a pinball. “You?”
“Like a baby.” I’d been practically comatose after that physical exertion. Nothing like a hard fuck to induce sleep.
Stifling a yawn, I poured myself some coffee.
“Good.” He nodded, but his eyes didn’t meet mine again.
“Mind if I join you?” I gestured to the seat beside him with my mug, keeping my tone light.
“Of course not.” Marnin moved over a fraction, creating space that felt both unnecessary and reassuring.
I settled into the chair, sipping the bitter liquid, letting the warmth spread through me. We sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound the occasional clink of ceramic as Marnin set down his cup a little too hard.
“Yesterday was…” I started, trailing off, unsure how to breach the subject without scaring him off.
“Unexpected,” Marnin finished for me, stealing a glance in my direction.
“Unbelievably so, but also spectacular, and I have no regrets.”
“Right.” He nodded slowly, the word sounding like a compromise between his head and heart. “No regrets.”
There was an undercurrent of something more in his voice, a depth I hadn’t quite heard before. But it was gone before I could dive into it, replaced by his usual sarcasm. “Don’t expect breakfast in bed though. That’s not happening.”
“Who needs breakfast in bed when we’ve got this gourmet selection of…coffee?” I teased, waving my hand over the empty kitchen island.
A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of Marnin’s lips, and I counted it as a victory. We might be stepping into new territory, but if I could keep us grounded in our usual banter, maybe we’d find our footing after all.
“Hey, how about I whip us up some breakfast?” I suggested. The hint of domesticity felt daring after the raw intimacy of the previous day, a bridge from passion to the ordinary that I hoped Marnin would be willing to cross with me.
“Sure,” Marnin replied, his voice laced with a note of surprise. “There’s food in the fridge.”
Was there? The last time, it had been mostly empty, so I wasn’t expecting much, but opening the fridge door, I was greeted by an array of ingredients that would make any foodie’s heart sing—a stark contrast to the collection of takeaway containers I’d expected. “Wow, when did you turn into a gourmet chef?”
Marnin snorted, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched me take out fresh vegetables, bacon, and a carton of eggs. “I usually grab something on the go. But I figured you might want something decent this weekend. You seem to eat pretty healthy.”
I frowned. “So this is all for me?”
“Sort of.” He shrugged, but there was an uncharacteristic shyness in his stance. Warmth bloomed in my chest, knowing he had gone out of his way to consider my comfort, even in something as simple as grocery shopping. It was touching, especially coming from a man who made no secret of his preference for control and distance.
“Thank you, Marnin. That was really thoughtful of you.”
“Ah, don’t mention it.” He looked away, but I caught the edge of pride in his tone.
“Alright, Chef Ennio, at your service. Take a seat and prepare for the best omelet of your life.” I grinned, cracking eggs into a bowl with a flourish, feeling lighter than I had in weeks.
“Best omelet, huh?” Marnin settled on a barstool. “I know you’re a great chef, but that’s a high bar.”
I could tell he was pleased, and that alone spurred me on. As I whisked and chopped, a comfortable silence enveloped us, broken only by the sizzle of bacon and the occasional clink of utensils.
“Smells good,” he conceded, his gaze lingering on me longer than necessary.
“Wait until you taste it.” I flipped the omelet with an expert twist of the wrist, a golden half-moon landing on a plate. I set it before him with a flourish. “Bon appétit.”
I watched him take the first bite, and the moan he let out was absolutely sinful. “You weren’t kidding. This is amazing.”
“It’s almost like I know what I’m doing, right?”
“Almost,” he said with his mouth full.
“So, what’s the plan for today?” I asked after confirming that, yes, the omelet had come out really well.
He shrugged. “No clue. I usually work on the weekends.”
“Well, I’m here, so I expect to be entertained.”
“Jesus, please don’t tell me you want to go sightseeing in Seattle.”
“Nope, no worries. I’ve been on enough school trips, thank you very much. My favorite was the orca-watching trip we did in seventh grade, I think. Did you know whales are some of the most social creatures in the ocean? They even have their own dialects.”
“Is that so?” Marnin raised an eyebrow, sipping his coffee. His eyes held a flicker of curiosity.
“They’re fascinating. But nothing beats seeing them up close, in the wild. It’s like…witnessing a secret dance of giants beneath the sea.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
I gasped. “You’ve never seen them? Not even on a school trip?”
He shook his head. “I missed out on that one ’cause I was recovering from an appendectomy.”
“Well, we need to change that. How about a whale-watching trip from Port Townsend? It’s the perfect season for it.”
Marnin set his fork down, giving me a long, searching look. “Whale watching, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s not far, and it will be so much fun, I promise.” My enthusiasm bubbled over, and I reached across the table, covering his hand with mine. “Come on, what do you say?”
He hesitated, a battle raging behind his eyes. I could see the gears turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons like he approached everything else—analytically. “I’m not exactly the whale-watching type. Plus, the idea of spending hours on a boat…”
“Trust me, it’s exhilarating. The wind in your hair, the smell of the ocean, the chance to see something truly majestic,” I insisted, squeezing his hand gently. “And I’ll be there with you. We can make a day out of it.”
Marnin looked at our joined hands, then back up at me. Something shifted in his gaze, and I knew I had him.
“Alright.” A reluctant grin tugged at his lips. “But if I end up tossing my breakfast overboard, I’m blaming you.”
“Fantastic!” I exclaimed, feeling like I’d won a significant victory. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”
We finished our breakfast amid plans, the awkwardness of the morning after dissolving like fog in the rising sun. As we cleared the dishes, the prospect of our upcoming adventure filled me with an anticipation I hadn’t felt in ages.
The sun was out in uncharacteristic force, setting the Seattle skyline aglow as we eased onto the freeway. Soon, the city dissolved behind us into a mosaic of towering evergreens and open sky. We left the busyness of the city behind us and made our way onto the Olympic peninsula. Marnin’s hands were steady on the wheel, his eyes fixed ahead with a determination that made me smile.
An hour passed with easy conversation, and soon, the quaint seaside charm of Port Townsend came into view, greeting us with its historic buildings and the salty tang of ocean air. We parked near the docks, stretching our legs after the drive, and made our way to the ticket booth for the whale watch.
“Two for the next tour, please,” Marnin said, his voice carrying an edge of excitement he couldn’t quite mask. He paid for the tickets, and I felt a warm rush of affection for the man who’d readily stepped into my world of spur-of-the-moment plans.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the tickets from him. “For doing this. It means a lot.”
“Let’s not get sappy now,” Marnin warned, but his eyes betrayed a softness that hadn’t been there before.
With two hours to kill, we wandered through the town, a picturesque blend of art galleries, antique shops, and cozy cafés. The shop windows beckoned with their displays of local crafts and nautical knick-knacks. I couldn’t resist dragging Marnin into a small bookstore, its shelves crammed with well-loved spines and the scent of old paper.
“Ever think about retiring in a place like this?” I asked as we strolled, enjoying the casual intimacy that seemed to be growing between us.
“Retirement?” Marnin scoffed, running a hand over a book with an aged leather cover. “What would I do all day without the chaos of the city to keep me on my toes?”
“Read, relax, watch the whales…”
“I’d fucking die. This is even worse than Forestville. You’re so isolated.”
I had to agree with him. I liked Port Townsend, but only for a visit. I couldn’t imagine myself living here. “And a distinct lack of sex partners, which would be a problem for you…”
“No kidding.”
I managed to keep my purchases limited to a single refrigerator magnet—no way was I spending too much money now that my finances were so uncertain—and then we headed to the dock to line up for the boat.
The boat deck thrummed under my feet as Marnin and I weaved through the clusters of eager whale watchers to find our seats. We settled near the stern, where the endless churn of water promised an unobstructed view. I leaned on the railing, a shiver of excitement running down my spine as I breathed in the salty air.
“I can’t wait to see the orcas,” I said, the wind snatching the words away as the boat began its slow crawl out of the harbor.
Marnin grunted. “Don’t count on seeing them. There’s no guarantee.”
Funny, but his remark didn’t bring me down. I was an optimist and Marnin a realist, both of us shaped by the circumstances of our backgrounds. I knew enough about his history to understand where he was coming from. When life kept throwing disappointments at you, you learned to temper your expectations to avoid being let down again.
I studied his profile, the way the sea air tousled his dark hair, now streaked with rebellious strands of gray. The midday sun cast a golden glow over his skin, softening the sharp angles of his gaze. He was a very attractive man. There was no denying that. And very much my type. If a relationship with Marnin didn’t have impossible and complications written all over it, I’d seriously consider it. But alas, we’d have to settle for being friends with benefits. Really great benefits.
We fell into a comfortable silence, the anticipation palpable as the boat cut through the waves and left the harbor behind us. The waves got choppy as soon as we headed into the open waters, but they didn’t seem to bother Marnin. He was scanning the expanse of blue with a focused intensity, as though he could summon the creatures from the deep by sheer will.
“It always calms me,” I said softly. “Being out on the water. I don’t do it as often as I should. It’s so peaceful.”
“I have a coworker who has a boat. He invited me to go sailing with him once. I really liked it, and if he wasn’t such a pompous jackass, I would’ve loved to do it again, but even the lure of the ocean can’t make me bear his presence for a whole day.”
I snorted. “That bad?”
“And then some. He thinks he’s god’s gift to humankind and loves to brag about all the women he slept with, cheating on his wife. I despise cheating. It’s one of the few hard rules I have: I don’t fuck married people. At least, not knowingly.”
“Same. I discovered a few years ago that the man I was dating and sleeping with was married, and I felt awful. He’d lied about it, so it wasn’t really my fault, but I still felt dirty.”
Then, without warning, a collective gasp rose from the crowd. I whipped around, my story about Joey the Cheating Bastard forgotten.
“Over there!” someone shouted, finger jutting toward a distant spray of water.
“Where? I don’t—” My breath hitched as a towering dorsal fin sliced through the surface, sleek and magnificent. More fins followed, a whole pod of orcas gliding effortlessly through the water, their black-and-white bodies stark against the deep blue.
“Oh my god, Marnin, look!” I almost tripped over my own feet, and he grinned as he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close.
“Careful there. You don’t want to get too close to them.”
“Wow…” I leaned into his embrace as I studied the orcas. “They’re beautiful.”
“More than that,” Marnin murmured, his voice filled with a childlike wonder. “They’re…majestic.”
We watched, spellbound, as the orcas danced on the edges of our world, their powerful bodies cresting and diving with a grace that belied their size. Time lost meaning as we witnessed nature’s artistry, the dance of predators in their natural realm.
The pod allowed us to observe them for several minutes, and then they disappeared into the water, swimming away. Our captain restarted our boat, announcing in a chipper voice that we’d try to find more. Mere minutes later, we found more.
I leaned over the railing, my heart racing as another orca breached, its magnificent body momentarily suspended in a silvery arc above the churning sea. It splashed into the ocean with an almighty plunge, and I gasped in awe of its power.
“Thank you,” Marnin said quietly, his voice nearly lost in the roar of the sea and the excited chatter around us. “For showing me this.”
“I’m glad you appreciate it. It’s special to me.”
“They’re incredible,” Marnin said, his usual sarcasm nowhere to be found. His chestnut eyes, typically sharp and analytical, were now softened by a sense of awe that mirrored my own. It was as if the sight of the orcas had stripped away layers of his workaholic, perfectionist shell, revealing someone more open, more raw. And in that moment, as the orcas continued their ballet beneath the sun’s approving gaze, something unspoken yet profoundly intimate passed between us.
He held me a little tighter as we watched, but every so often, Marnin’s gaze drifted from the spectacle of black-and-white bodies to me. His eyes held a strange look, something akin to tenderness mixed with curiosity, as if he were seeing me for the first time. He’d glance away whenever our eyes met, leaving me puzzled but intrigued by the change in his demeanor.
“Have you ever felt anything like this?” I asked, turning to fully face him, hungry for his response.
“Like what?” His voice was barely above a whisper, rough with emotion as he kept stealing glances at me, then back to the orcas.
“Like…this uncontainable joy, just bursting out of you because of something so utterly simple yet profound.” My hands gestured wildly, trying to encompass the vastness of the ocean, the majesty of the whales, the intangible connection that seemed to hang between us.
Marnin chuckled, the sound mingling with the salty breeze. “Honestly? No, I haven’t. Not until now.” He locked eyes with mine again, and this time, he didn’t look away. There was an intensity there that I hadn’t noticed before, one that seared right through me, igniting a flame of desire that I thought had been sated the night before.
Hmm, maybe I did want to have sex with him today after all. Because that was the strange tension between us. Sexual attraction. Right?