Chapter 3
After guiding my class to the gym for physical education, I strolled down the hall toward the teacher’s lounge, where the usual crew was gathered, clutching their morning coffee like it was life itself.
“Speak of the devil. Here’s the lucky lady!” Gretchen's green eyes sparkled with mischief as soon as I walked in.
I scanned the room and felt six pairs of eyes zero in on me, curiosity practically oozing from every corner. I couldn’t help but smile. “No wonder my ears were burning. What’s the scoop?” I asked, going to the cabinet to grab my favorite mug.
Tiffany, our always-adorable first-grade teacher who couldn’t let a moment pass without a laugh, let out a playful snort. “We should be asking you that question. Look what someone left for you.”
I followed her finger to a stunning floral arrangement sitting on the table. “Oh, wow,” I murmured, pouring myself some coffee before drifting over to the table, my curiosity officially piqued.
“The card’s right there,” Sandra added, her big, dark eyes locked onto a small pink card nestled behind a delicate sprig of baby’s breath.
I sighed inwardly, aware they’d probably all taken a peek already. I reached for the small envelope, feeling the weight of their anticipation as I opened it and read the words inside.
I want the total package. Mark
A rush of warmth spread through me—a mix of excitement and something else I wasn’t quite ready to name. The thought that Mark always knew how to push my buttons thrilled and terrified me. My heart pounded like it had suddenly decided to start its own drumline. If a note had me feeling like this, what would the real thing be like?
“So, who’s Mark?” Gretchen’s voice cut through my thoughts, curiosity dripping from every word. “I thought your boyfriend’s name was Malcolm?”
Oh hell.
In all the whirlwind of Mark’s return, Malcolm Cole—good old reliable Malcolm—had completely slipped my mind. We’d met at a Labor Day barbecue Tamara hosted. He turned out to be a friend of my brother-in-law Dennis and a junior partner at their law firm. Intelligent, charming, solid—Malcolm was the kind of man any woman would be lucky to have. We’d been seeing each other casually for nearly three months. Still, Malcolm was starting to hint at something more, something serious.
And now Mark shows up, flipping my world upside down.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Go ahead…, spill the tea,” Tiffany urged, practically bouncing with anticipation, ready to absorb every juicy detail.
I forced a smile, trying to keep the chaos inside from spilling out. “Sorry, but I don’t kiss and tell.” Without giving them another chance to dig deeper, I abandoned my coffee mug, grabbed the vase, and returned to my classroom.
* * *
That evening, I was juggling Tyler’s laundry while trying to calm him down for dinner. His fussiness was kicking in, and I was barely holding it together when a knock at the door broke my rhythm.
“Who could that be?” I muttered, more to myself than to Tyler, who was watching me with those wide, curious eyes.
Tyler cooed in response, his little face scrunching up in wonder.
“You’re right,” I said with a smirk. “Probably nobody important, but I better check. Who knows? It could be HGTV coming to remodel this chaos.” I handed him a slice of banana. “I’ll be right back.”
Balancing the laundry basket on my hip, I went to the front door and pulled it open. “Mark.” I wasn’t surprised, but that didn’t mean I was thrilled.
He flashed that signature smirk that made my stomach flip despite myself. “I was starting to think you forgot my name.”
As if that was possible. Mark's tall, athletic build and those deep, irresistible eyes—were seared into my memory, whether I wanted them there or not.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, knowing full well what brought him back to my door.
“You already know.”
His topaz eyes locked onto mine, full of that intensity he always had, and I had to fight the shiver that ran down my spine. “I’m busy, but Tyler’s in the kitchen if you want to see him.”
Mark didn’t flinch at my cold tone. “Grotto’s Pizza?” He lifted a cardboard box, letting the unmistakable aroma hit me. He was playing dirty, and he knew it—Grotto’s was my weakness.
I inhaled the mouthwatering smell of Italian sausage, my stomach growling, despite the front I was putting up. “I’ve already eaten, and Tyler’s food is cooling off,” I said, trying to hold firm.
Tyler’s cry echoed from the kitchen as if on cue like he knew we were talking about him. Without waiting for permission, Mark stepped inside, approaching his son. I trailed behind, irritated with myself for noticing how well those gray sweatpants clung to him. Focus, Essence, I reminded myself.
“Hey, Champ,” Mark greeted Tyler, his voice full of warmth. How he looked at our son tugged at something deep inside me, something I wasn’t ready to deal with.
I walked into the kitchen to see Tyler beaming at his father from his highchair, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement. I sighed, placing a hand on my hip. “You can visit, but I like to have Tyler bathed and in bed by eight.”
Mark grinned, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Perfect. After that, we can talk.”
I shook my head, trying to keep my irritation in check. “Oh no, after that, I’ve got to clean up the kitchen, take a shower, and get some sleep.”
His expression softened, and he took a step closer. “It’s tough, isn’t it?”
I stiffened, not liking the way his words made me feel vulnerable. “Is what tough?”
“Raising a child on your own.”
I straightened my back, my pride flaring. “I manage just fine, and I’ll continue to do so long after you’re gone.” My voice had an edge, and I knew he could feel the walls I was putting up.
“I’m not trying to take over,” he said, his voice calm and steady as he set the pizza box on the table. “I’m just bringing food and spending time with my son.” He raised his hands in surrender, showing he wasn’t here to start a fight.
I frowned, eyeing him suspiciously. “You should’ve called first.”
He smirked. “I don’t have your number, remember?”
“Listen, Mark,” I began, feeling the tension ease as I watched him gently stroke Tyler’s curls. “Fine.” I blew out a breath. “You can spend time with your son.”
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, then quickly turned into a smile. “Then I guess I’d better feed him, huh?”
I found myself softening just a little bit more. “Yes. Mashed potatoes and string beans are in the microwave.”
Mark shrugged off his jacket, hanging it over a chair, then casually moved to the microwave, pulling out Tyler’s food and sitting down in a chair in front of him. Watching him so naturally slip into father mode hit me harder than I wanted to admit.
“Essence.” Halfway to the laundry room, I heard him call my name.
I turned to find his eyes on me, with a look of quiet determination. “We still need to talk before I leave,” he said, his voice soft, but there was something dangerous behind it, something I wasn’t sure I was ready for.
I held his gaze longer than intended, feeling that familiar pull between us. I nodded quickly and escaped into the laundry room, needing space from how he made me feel.
“Damn,” I muttered under my breath as I loaded Tyler’s clothes into the washing machine, pouring in the detergent with more force than necessary. Yesterday, I had let him kiss me, and tonight, I was turned on just by seeing him being a dad. What is wrong with me? This was the same man who walked away two years ago.
I needed to get it together.
When I walked back into the kitchen, Mark was fastening a clean bib around Tyler’s neck, his movements calm and practiced. The other bib, smeared with banana, was tossed on the counter. He tested the food’s temperature with his hand before offering Tyler the first spoonful.
“All right, Champ, let’s show your dad how it’s done,” Mark said with that warm, rich voice that melted me in ways I hated to admit.
Tyler squealed, kicking his little legs and opening his mouth wide as Mark fed him. I couldn’t help but smile. As much as I wanted to stay mad at Mark, watching him so effortlessly step into fatherhood made it hard. Tyler looked between us, grinning wide, drooling, and bits of food running down his chin. It was enough to make me tear up.
Mark glanced over at me, catching the emotion on my face. He smiled softly. “I got this. Why don’t you go relax for a bit?”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” I tossed the dirty bib into the laundry, and while Mark wasn’t looking, I carried the pizza box to the living room and sank into the sofa.
As the six o’clock news played in the background, I could hear the sounds of Mark and Tyler from the kitchen—laughter, soft murmurs, and the unmistakable bond forming between father and son. I stretched out on the sofa, letting the rhythm of their conversation lull me into a peaceful calm….
Our waiter slid the plates in front of us with a flourish, like he knew he was delivering something special, then disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived. I didn’t waste a second before diving into the blackened catfish, and the first bite hit me with a burst of spice and flavor that made me moan out loud.
“Oh, man! That’s delicious,” I groaned, savoring the moment.
Mark’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he watched me, a slow smile creeping across his lips. He looked like he was enjoying the meal almost as much as he was enjoying my reaction. Other than a few playful comments, we ate in comfortable silence. Occasionally, I’d catch him stealing a glance, and I’d do the same. It wasn’t awkward—just this quiet vibe between us, like we didn’t need to fill the air with endless conversation.
After dessert, Mark suggested a walk, and I agreed without even thinking twice.
Outside, the October night was warm, with a soft breeze moving through the air. We strolled around Silver Lake, the full moon hanging low, casting a glow on the water. The stars sprinkled the sky, adding a touch of magic to the whole scene. We’d barely walked a few steps before I had to stop.
“These shoes are killing my feet,” I groaned, slipping off my new high heels with a sigh of relief.
Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Then why wear them?”
I rolled my eyes, trying not to wince. “Because they’re new and make my legs look long.”
He laughed, flashing those pearly whites under the streetlights. “Leave it to a shrimp to find a way to look tall.”
I gave him a playful punch on the arm and giggled. “I’m not that short.”
“If you say so,” he teased, his smirk deepening.
We kept walking, and suddenly, I felt his hand slip into mine. He laced our fingers together, and the warmth of his touch sent a shock of electricity straight up my arm, making my heart skip. Just like that, the air between us felt different. Holding hands was enough to change the vibe entirely—like we’d crossed some unspoken line.
We wandered down State Street, winding through Dover’s historic district, and I tried to understand what was happening in my head. It was only our first date, but there was something easy between us, something that felt natural. But underneath all that ease, there was a current of something more—something deeper. It felt intense, but at the same time, I wasn’t ready to name it.
Mark’s whistle cut through my thoughts. “Man, look at that house.”
I turned to see what he was staring at. A grand Victorian-style home with a huge wraparound porch lit up under the moon's soft glow. It was straight out of a fairytale.
“It’s beautiful,” I said softly, picturing myself living in a house like that.
“I’m gonna buy a house on this street one day,” Mark said, his voice filled with that quiet confidence that was so him.
“These houses cost a fortune,” I said, more to myself than to him.
“So does my taste,” he shot back smoothly, meeting my eyes with a look that was anything but casual. Something was simmering behind his golden-brown eyes, making my breath catch.
For a moment, I was lost in the intensity of his gaze, the space between us shrinking without either of us moving. The night air suddenly felt thicker, and I could feel this pull toward him—like gravity. With Mark, everything felt heightened, like we were on the edge of something, just scratching the surface of what could be.
He leaned in, and my heart raced as he brushed his lips lightly across my forehead. The warmth of his touch, the softness of his kiss—it was enough to make my knees weak. My eyes fluttered shut, savoring the feeling. When I opened them, I tilted my head, staring into his golden eyes, reflecting the moonlight like something out of a dream.
Mark moved closer, gently brushing a strand of hair from my face. His touch was soft, but the intensity behind it? That was anything but. My body reacted before my mind could catch up—I leaned in, drawn by the magnetic pull between us.
“Essence,” he whispered, his voice low, barely audible, like he was saying my name for the first time.
I felt my breath hitch. Something about how Mark said my name, the way it rolled off his tongue, made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. It made me forget, just for a second, all the walls I had carefully built around myself.
His lips hovered near mine, close enough to feel his breath warm against my skin. The space between us was nearly gone, and every nerve in my body was on high alert, waiting for that moment. That moment when everything changes.
And then, he kissed me.
It wasn’t soft or hesitant. It was deep and full of the kind of passion that had been building between us all night. His lips claimed mine, and I melted into him, letting the world around us disappear. Mark’s lips were like an intoxicating drug, making me light-headed. His tongue was slow as it ran along my bottom lip before sliding inside. Our tongues merged, and I could taste the wine in his mouth. Somehow, it tasted better this way and was just as potent. The strength of his hands slid to the small of my back, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. His kiss was filled with everything we hadn’t said—desire, intensity, and something unspoken, something neither of us could name but both felt.
The night, moon, and stars faded into the background as the kiss deepened. My fingers found their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as I tried to hold on, feeling his solid strength beneath my hands. I could feel the heat of his body, the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and I knew I was in trouble. Serious trouble.
When we finally pulled back, both of us were breathless, our foreheads resting against each other’s as we stood in the middle of the quiet street. The air was still thick with tension, but now it was different, charged with the energy of something that had just been set in motion.
“I didn’t expect that,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.
Mark grinned, that same cocky but irresistible smile spreading across his face. “Neither did I, but I’m not mad at it.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, though my heart was still racing. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
He shrugged, still holding me close. “Yeah, but I’m the good kind.”
We stood there for a moment longer, the silence between us comfortable yet filled with the heat that made me feel like the ground had shifted beneath my feet.
“You want to keep walking, or are you ready to call it a night?” he asked, his voice low and full of suggestion, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles against my back.
“I think... I should call it a night,” I said, even though every inch of me wanted to say the opposite.
Mark gave a slow nod, his hand still resting on the small of my back, like he wasn’t ready to let go yet. “Alright,” he said, his voice soft but laced with a challenge. “But don’t think I’m letting you off that easy.”
I smirked, stepping back but feeling the loss of his warmth immediately. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
We turned, heading back to the car in silence, but the air between us still crackled. When we reached my apartment, Mark walked me to the door. He was always the gentleman, but I could see that fire still burning in his eyes.
“Essence,” he said, stopping me before I slipped inside. “Tonight isn’t the end. I’m coming back tomorrow.”
I met the fire in his eyes as he leaned in for another kiss. My lips parted, a silent, seductive invitation as I whispered, “Yes, tomorrow.”
I felt a light tap on my shoulder, and as I slowly opened my eyes, I saw Mark sitting on the sofa beside me. His gaze lingered on my face, taking in every detail like he was trying to memorize it. My chest tightened, but I fought against how my body naturally responded to him being so close.
“Where’s Tyler?” I asked, my voice thick with sleep.
“Out like a light. After his bath, the little man was done for the night.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “You bathed him?”
Mark flashed that signature smile of his, the one that could melt ice in the dead of winter. “You look surprised. I’ve got a bunch of younger cousins. Back in the day, I was the go-to babysitter in the neighborhood.”
“You?” I raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping in. The image of a pretty boy like Mark running around babysitting didn’t fit.
He chuckled. “Believe it. While my boys were sweating it out, flipping burgers at Mickey D’s, I was at the park with the neighborhood kids whose moms had to work. At a buck fifty an hour per kid, I was making more than them, and I got to chill and have fun. Easy money.”
I shook my head, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face. “You’re something else, you know that?”
He leaned back, his confidence smooth, not cocky. “Yeah, I am.”
A heavy silence settled between us, thick with everything we weren’t saying, yet it spoke louder than words. The air was buzzing with that same tension we’d always had.
“Thanks for the flowers,” I said, looking at him through my lashes, trying to break the silence.
His grin widened, sending a familiar flip through my stomach. “You’re welcome.”
I glanced at the clock on the mantle and groaned. “Oh no, it’s almost nine! How could I have slept that long?”
“You needed it,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m a mother. We don’t have the luxury of being tired. I’ve got clothes to dry, a kitchen to clean, and I still need to shower before I can even think about going to bed.”
I moved to get up, but Mark gently touched my arm, holding me in place.
“The clothes are already dried and folded, and I spent the last thirty minutes cleaning the kitchen.”
I stared at him, completely caught off guard by his unexpected kindness. “You did all that?”
He nodded. “Yeah. You deserved a break.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, genuinely touched.
“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice soft as he reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek. His touch was so gentle it made my breath catch. I felt heat rising inside me, and in that moment, I knew I was in trouble. Deep trouble.
Mark leaned in a little closer, his voice low and full of suggestion. “Now, we can retreat to the shower if you'd like. That way, we’ll have plenty of time to lay under the sheets and... talk.”
I gasped, my eyes widening. “Are you serious?”
He barely reacted, just a tiny twitch at the corner of his lips, but the fire in his eyes said everything.
“No, Casanova,” I said, trying to keep my cool. “I like sleeping alone.”
Mark angled his head and winked, his voice playful. “No, you don’t.”
He wasn’t wrong. At least, not back when we were together, sharing my bed. The thought of those nights, the way he knew exactly how to touch me, stirred something deep between my thighs.
I cleared my throat, needing to pull myself together. “That was a long time ago. Before Tyler.”
“We were good together,” he said, his voice soft, almost coaxing. “I know it can only get better.”
I swallowed, suddenly at a loss for words. Every time I looked directly into Mark's eyes, I saw that mixture of desire and impatience. He wasn’t playing around.
“...And that way, Tyler can wake up to see his mama and daddy together, the way it should be.”
I blinked twice, entirely thrown off balance. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said, his tone serious now, no trace of the teasing left.
I could only stare at him, the weight of his words hanging in the air between us. The way it should be? I wasn’t sure I was ready for that conversation.
I saw flickers of desire darken his eyes. He wanted me. The need was written all over his face. When Mark leaned closer, I knew he was going to kiss me. I had made that mistake last night and knew I was about to do it again. I knew I should have stopped him and moved as far away from him as possible, but a part of me couldn’t wait.
When his lips lowered and our mouths met, the kiss was nothing like the one the night before. This time, it was filled with glorious heat and hunger, no baby wedged between us. His full, supple lips teased and coaxed my full cooperation.
I tried fighting for control, but instead, I met his lips with firm, demanding pressure. I tried pushing him away, but when I placed my hand on his hard chest, the feel of his firm muscles melted any further resistance.
I was a woman who in no way could resist this man.
The intense kiss sent my senses spinning. My mouth opened under his probing tongue, and when I moaned, Mark responded by deepening the kiss. His tongue plunged into my mouth, sliding seductively against mine.
Mark made me feel a desire I thought had ceased to exist. His large hand glided along my waist, across my hips, and down to cup my bottom. What was happening spiraled quickly, leaving me gasping for air.
When his warm lips left mine, I became annoyed that I hadn’t found the energy to be the one to pull away. Instead, his kiss left me feeling weak and lightheaded.
“Now, are you ready to talk?” he asked softly, his warm breath fanning my nose.
Annoyed, I turned on the sofa to face him. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Us.”
That single word sent a jolt through me, making all my girly parts tingle.
“I’ve only known my son for one day, and already I love him. I want him to be a part of my life. I want him to have all the joys I had as a child.”
A muscle twitched at my jaw. “What are you trying to say? That I’m incapable of providing for my son?”
“Not at all.” Mark reached for my hand, his fingers warm and steady. “I think you’ve done a fabulous job. I’m trying to say that Tyler needs the love of two parents.”
Trying to ignore the heat radiating from his touch, I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I agree.”
“Good,” Mark said, his eyes never leaving mine. “Then you won’t have any objections.”
Had I missed something? “Objections to what?”
“Marrying me.”