Magic Marco

8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Marc

T he house was quiet except for the sound of water splashing in the bathroom where Mia played in the tub with her bubbles and toys. I sat at my desk, an old wooden piece that had seen better days, and pulled out a notebook from the bottom drawer. It was worn and battered, with pages curled and frayed at the edges. I ran my fingers over the cover, the embossed texture beneath my fingertips.

Flipping through the pages, I found sketches of gardens, lists of plants, and detailed plans for a landscaping business I’d once dreamed of starting.

Back when I was married, and we lived in Dallas, those dreams felt tangible. One day soon, Jacob would tell me. One day, we’d focus on my dreams and not his.

That day never happened.

Being with the kids today at the Spring Fling, digging my fingers into the soil and planting seedlings, had awakened something in me. A long-buried passion. The smell of fresh earth, blooming flowers, and the laughter of the kids brought back memories of my childhood. My dad’s garage was where I spent most of my time growing up, but it was in my mother’s garden where I came alive. She taught me how to plant seeds and nurture them until they blossomed. That’s where I learned that sun and water and patience and love—those were the keys to life.

Reconnecting with Hector Cruz had been good, too.

The older man had been nothing but helpful when Mia and I arrived in Blanco Springs earlier this year. I had gone over to Sunshine Gardens to pick up some plants for the rental house, to make it feel more like a home. Hector had seen me walking around and introduced himself. He took me on a comprehensive tour of his expansive nursery, pointing out various plants and sharing tips on how to care for them. We’d become friends, and now he’d give me a heads-up whenever new trays filled with vegetable and flower seedlings were ready for sale. His patience and knowledge were invaluable, making our transition to this new town a little smoother.

Hector’s weathered face had lit up when I mentioned the idea. “A landscaping business? That’s exactly what this town needs.” His calloused hands gestured expansively as he spoke, painting a picture of possibility. “With all these new houses popping up like weeds, there’s plenty of work to go around.”

I scribbled furiously in my notebook, jotting down business ideas as Hector’s words washed over me. The old man’s enthusiasm was contagious, rekindling a spark I thought had long since died.

“You’ve got the skills, Marc. And the eye for beauty. I’ve seen what you can do with a patch of dirt and a handful of seeds.” Hector’s eyes twinkled. “I’d be more than happy to work with your business, supply you with whatever you need, once you get it off the ground.”

My pen hovered over the page as I started coming up with business names. “Mendez Landscapes” sounded too plain. “Green Dreams”? Too cheesy. “Tierra y Cielo”? Maybe…

I closed the notebook, my mind still racing with possibilities. As I headed to the bathroom, I couldn’t shake the idea that something was taking root, something with the potential to grow into something beautiful.

That dream had seemed distant, but not impossible.

Was it time to turn that passion into a business here in Blanco Springs?

Running my own business would mean more control over my schedule. More time with Mia. I’d be there for her when she needed me most, especially with her health issues. Plus, the thought of creating beautiful spaces for others brought a warmth to my chest, something that had been missing for a long time.

And then there was Ken… and that kiss today.

I couldn’t stop smiling when I thought about him and what happened in his classroom this morning. The way he stepped close to me, pulling my head down to him, kissing me with this hunger that surprised me., stirring up emotions that I'd locked away after the divorce.

The last thing I wanted when we moved here was to fall for someone. Blanco Springs was supposed to be a fresh start, a place to focus on Mia and rebuild our lives. But Ken... he'd snuck past my defenses without even trying.

I closed my eyes, remembering feeling his lips on mine, the warmth of his hand on my back. It wasn't just physical attraction, though God knows that was there in spades. It was the way he looked at me, like he saw past all my bullshit and liked what he found underneath.

When I was with Ken, I felt... lighter. The weight of my past, the constant worry about Mia's health, the struggle to make ends meet—it all seemed more manageable when I was around him. His calm presence soothed something inside me that had been raw and aching since the divorce.

But was that enough? Was feeling better about myself reason enough to risk my heart again?

I knocked on the bathroom door. "Mia," I called out, hearing the water splashing in the bathroom. "You ready to get out soon?"

"Almost, Papi!"

I thought about how Mia lit up when Ken was around. How he always made time for her, listening to her stories with genuine interest. He'd been so patient with her, so caring.

Maybe it was time to be brave. To take a chance on happiness, even if it scared the hell out of me. Because the truth was, I liked the person I was becoming here in Blanco Springs. And a big part of that was because of Ken.

Maybe it was all possible if I took things one step at a time. Starting small with local clients for the landscaping business while building trust and understanding with Ken, moving at a timeframe that worked for him.

Not rushing into anything but allowing things to unfold naturally.

Dreams might take time, but they also took action. Today felt like as good a day as any to plant seeds for both. But first, Ken and I needed to talk. I needed to tell him how I felt. Ask him if he wanted to give this—whatever it was between us—a real shot.

Taking a deep breath, I reached for my phone.

Hey, can we talk about this morning?

I typed and deleted the message three times before finally pressing send. As soon as the message left my phone, that familiar anxiety hit, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for his response.

When my phone buzzed, I snatched it up, my eyes scanning the screen.

Yeah that’s probably a good idea.

Can you come over after Mia’s asleep?

Sure Text me when she's in bed.

A wave of relief washed over me. The thought of seeing Ken, of being alone with him and finally addressing what was happening between us, settled something inside me.

As I set my phone down, I realized that my future held so much more than just nurturing plants and creating beautiful spaces.

It also held the promise of love and companionship, of sharing my life with someone who understood and appreciated my passions in a way that Jacob never could.

And as uncertain as I was about what would come next, part of me hoped Ken was that person for me.

An hour later, I gently tucked Mia into bed, her damp hair carrying the soothing trace of lavender and chamomile. Her eyelids drooped, her small body sinking into her mattress as exhaustion from the day’s events caught up with her. I leaned down, my lips brushing against her forehead in a tender kiss. “Sleep tight, princesa, ” I whispered.

Mia’s eyes fluttered open briefly, her gaze heavy with sleep as a wide yawn escaped her lips. “Can we have pancakes tomorrow?” she asked, her voice filled with sleep and childlike hope.

Mia’s request, so simple and pure. In that moment, the chaos and uncertainty of the world fell away, and all that mattered was her love and trust in me. I’d give anything to keep her safe and happy. “A whole giant stack of pancakes, taller than you,” I promised, brushing a stray curl off her forehead.

As the light dimmed and her door clicked shut, quiet filled the hallway. I took a deep breath. Just thinking about seeing Ken made my heart ache with this powerful need.

Finally, we’d have the chance to lay our cards on the table and say what was in our hearts.

I pulled out my phone, the screen illuminating my face in the dimly lit hallway. My fingers hovered over the keys, a thousand what-ifs swirling through my mind. Was this the right thing to do? What if it complicated things for Mia? What if Ken changed his mind? I needed to know where we stood, and more importantly, where we could go.

I typed out a message to Ken.

Come over whenever you can. I’ll be in the backyard. Gate is on the right side of the house.

The words stared back at me—a simple invitation, but so much more than that. I slipped the phone back into my pocket, then headed to the backyard to get ready for this conversation.

One of the main reasons I had chosen this rental house was the oversized lot, with its backyard filled with majestic oak trees that created a canopy of dappled shade over most of the yard. Yet there was still a generous patch of sunlight on the left side where I had planted my spring garden—tomatoes, peppers, and herbs—already sprouting.

I spread a thick quilt under the oak tree. From this spot I had a clear view of the backdoor, so I could keep an eye out for Mia in case she woke up and needed me while the tree’s broad trunk created a natural barrier against any nosy neighbor who might peek over the back fence.

Soft white lights draped from the patio, casting a warm glow over the backyard. On the quilt I set out a tray with a wine bottle and two glasses, their quiet clink punctuating the calm of the evening.

Lowering myself onto the quilt, I leaned against the oak, its bark rough against my back. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, the yard’s peacefulness easing my jangled nerves.

A few moments later, Ken came into view, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. “Hey,” he murmured, taking in the scene with a sweep of his eyes. “Wow, this is nice.”

“Thanks. I thought it’d be a good place for us to talk.” Seeing Ken in the soft glow of the lights, my nerves spiked. Did he feel this pull between us, the same all-consuming need?

Ken settled onto the quilt beside me, our knees brushing. I poured two glasses of wine, handing one to him. “Hope you like merlot.”

“Yeah, I like reds,” he said, taking a sip. We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of our unspoken words hanging between us. Ken’s fingers fiddled with his shirt hem, a clear sign of his own jitters. Finally, he grinned sheepishly. “Didn’t take you for a wine guy.”

I laughed. “Oh, I love wine. Beer always makes me gassy,” I added, hoping to break the tension. “My ex had worked in a fancy restaurant in college and knew all about fine wine. He taught me a lot about it. But yeah, not a lot of guys at the auto shop appreciate a good merlot.” Memories of Jacob brought out a pang of hurt and ache. It was a past I had locked away, a chapter closed but never discarded. I wondered if Ken had his own share of heartbreaks and missed opportunities.

Ken’s eyes swept across the yard, a smile spreading across his face. “I love what you’ve done back here. It’s amazing.”

“Thanks.” Warmth crept into my cheeks under his praise, following his gaze. “It brings me joy.”

“A man of many talents.” Ken continued to survey the garden, his eyes lingering on the blooming flowers as he sipped his wine. The twinkling patio lights cast a soft glow on his features, and as he took a breath, he turned toward me. “Marc,” he began, his voice hesitant, “I haven’t stopped thinking about what happened today.”

Our eyes locked. My heart raced as I reached out, placing my hand on his knee. “I know we have to be careful because of your job, but I can’t ignore how I feel. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Ken sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “I feel the same way, and I’m scared. People might talk, and with me being Mia’s teacher, it’s complicated.”

I nodded, understanding his fears. “Your job’s important, and I never want to put that at risk. But ignoring this isn’t working out for either of us.” I reached out and touched a stray tendril of hair on his forehead. “You’re important to me, Ken, and I don’t want to pretend otherwise.”

Ken’s eyes softened. “And I want to be with you, too. But—” He shrugged, a soft smile on his face. “I don’t want to make things hard for Mia, either. She’s been through so much.”

“I want what’s best for her, too.” I glanced over at the window to her bedroom, imagining her sleeping, dreaming the best dreams. “She’s my world, and I would never do anything to hurt her. But maybe we don’t have to choose between doing what’s best for her and what we feel for each other. We can find a way to make both work.”

Ken nodded, his eyes searching mine as a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re right. I don’t want this worry hanging over us, hiding like we’re doing something shameful. I want to be with you.” He bit his lower lip, looking up at me with those bright eyes. “I want to see where this takes us.”

My heart pounded in my chest. “Me too.”

We leaned in and our lips met again. Time seemed to stretch as we explored each other with unhurried, deliberate intimacy, finally able to just focus on each other. Ken’s lips were soft yet firm, the sweetest kisses that made my head spin.

My hands found their way to Ken’s face, fingertips brushing against his freckled cheeks. The faint stubble along his jaw, rough against my skin, contrasted against the softness of his lips. Ken’s hands mirrored mine, cupping my face, as if afraid I might disappear. His thumb traced along my lower lip, sending a shiver down my spine.

Ken shifted, his movements careful as he straddled me, facing me, his knees settling on either side of my thighs. I groaned at the weight of him, warm and solid, pressed against me, all the blood in my body flowing to my groin. Heat radiated from his body, and the steady thrum of his heartbeat pressed against my chest.

His hands rested on my shoulders for a moment, grounding us both. Then, as he leaned in to capture my lips once more, Ken’s fingers slid into my hair. The sensation made me gasp into his mouth as our bodies pressed close together, the intimacy of the moment deepening with each passing second.

We kissed, our tongues dancing in a slow, sensual rhythm. Ken’s hands moved to my shoulders, sliding down the length of my arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His fingertips traced patterns across my back, each touch igniting little sparks of electricity beneath my skin.

My lips trailed from his mouth to his neck, pressing soft kisses along the curve of his throat. I heard his breath hitch, felt him tremble under my touch. He feels this too . Ken’s hands held me close as I explored the sensitive skin of his neck with tender nips and languid licks, memorizing his sighs and shivers, learning what he liked best.

Ken’s touch grew bolder, his fingers sliding under my shirt and caressing the bare skin of my back. My skin burned with each contact, and I mirrored his actions, my hands slipping under his shirt to trace the fine muscles of his abdomen and chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my fingertips.

We paused for breath, resting our foreheads together, our eyes locked in an unspoken exchange of emotion. In that moment, the world outside seemed to melt away, leaving the two of us under the canopy of the trees and stars, lost in each other.

How was I going to let go of him tonight?

Ken’s fingers wandered lower on my body, tracing patterns that left trails of heat in their wake. His touch was tentative at first, seeking permission, and I gasped in surprise as he grew bolder, pressing his hand against the bulge in my jeans. “This okay?” he asked, his voice low and husky, brushing his lips against mine.

Christ . “Yeah,” I murmured, trying to catch my breath. “It’s more than okay.”

I swallowed hard as his fingers unfastened my pants, the sound of the zipper punctuating the quiet of the night. His hand slipped inside, and the warmth of his touch on my hardening cock had me gasping for air.

Ken’s strokes were gentle, almost reverent, and I bit my lip as I struggled to suppress a moan. His gaze filled with a tenderness and desire that left me breathless. “Is this okay?” he asked again, his thumb circling my leaking cock head.

I nodded, barely able to speak. “More than okay. Don’t stop.”

Ken’s eyes gleamed with relief and excitement as his fist gripped my shaft, long, slow tugs to draw out my pleasure. “I’ve dreamed of this,” he whispered in my ear. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

I groaned in response, the intensity of his touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through my body. Heat built between us, his words igniting a fire that burned even hotter.

Ken shifted back, his gaze dropping to my lap. He pulled his hand out of my pants, licking my precum off his thumb and glanced back at me, his eyes dark with need as he shifted his body down. "Yeah?" he asked, dropping his mouth and pressing kisses against my stomach.

Oh shit. We were moving fast, faster than I had expected, but the hunger in Ken’s eyes and the growing desire between us made it hard to resist. My heart pounded in my chest. Part of me wanted to slow down, to savor every moment, but I needed him just as much.

I nodded, my throat tight with anticipation. “You sure?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Ken’s response was a slow, deliberate lick of his lips as he shifted lower, positioning himself between my legs. “I’m sure,” he whispered back, his hands sliding down my torso to rest at my hips.

My nerves buzzed with electric energy as I lifted my hips to help him lower my jeans and boxers.

Ken’s eyes darkened with desire as his fingers wrapping around the base of my cock with a firm grip. He looked up at me one last time, lips parted, his warm breath ghosting over my cock before he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to the tip, licking off a bead of precum. The sensation was electrifying, a jolt of pleasure that made me gasp. His tongue darted out again, teasing the sensitive skin before he took my cockhead into his mouth.

I groaned, my hands instinctively finding their way to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as he began to work his magic.

The warmth and wetness of his mouth enveloped me. Ken’s movements were slow at first, almost teasing, as he explored every inch of me with his tongue. He took his time, building the intensity gradually, his eyes flicking up to meet mine.

My hips bucked involuntarily, a deep groan escaping my lips as he swallowed me whole, his pace quickening. “Ken,” I gasped, my grip tightening in his hair. “You feel so fucking good.”

He moaned in response, the vibrations added an extra layer of pleasure as he continued his exquisite torment. It was like my fantasy come true—the sight of him, his lips stretched around my cock, eyes filled with desire, was enough to drive me wild. “Oh fuck, baby,” I whispered, my voice breaking with emotion as I neared the edge. One hand found the back of his neck, holding him in place as pleasure surged through me in waves. “So good…”

Ken glanced up at me, his eyes never leaving mine as he doubled his efforts, cheeks hollowed as he sucked harder, his hand working in tandem with his mouth. The combination was explosive, an all-consuming pleasure that pushed me over the edge. I came hard, exploding in his mouth with a strangled groan.

Ken didn’t relent, his mouth and hand milking every drop of pleasure from me until I was beyond spent, my breath coming in ragged gasps. As he finally pulled back, he looked up at me, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips. “You’re fucking perfect,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

As the world refocused, the intensity of what we had just shared lingered in the air between us. I sank back against the tree, my limbs heavy. “That was incredible,” I murmured, reaching for him, pulling him up for a searing kiss, tasting myself on his tongue. “I didn’t expect that.”

Ken smiled. “Me neither, but I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he admitted, and closed his eyes as I kissed him again. “I’m glad I could make you feel good.” He shifted to sit beside me, a satisfied expression on his face.

It was as if we refused to let go of each other, our bodies pressed close, hands caressing and exploring in the aftermath of our shared intimacy. “More than good,” I replied, letting out a shaky laugh. “That was fucking fantastic. But what about you?” My fingers threaded through his soft hair. “I want to make you feel just as amazing.”

Ken’s cheeks flushed. “Next time,” he promised, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my arm. “Right now, I just want to be here with you for as long as I can.”

‘Next time.’ Those two words carried a promise of a future I dared to dream of.

Ken’s head on my shoulder anchored me in the reality of what we’d shared. We were on our way to something special, something that could change our lives. One day, we wouldn’t need to hide like this.

Our conversation turned soft and tender as we talked about what this meant for us moving forward. “I’ve been making some plans for the future.”

Ken’s eyes searched mine, curiosity and concern warring in their depths. “What are you thinking?”

“I’ve made a decision. I’m going to start my own landscaping business.”

Ken’s eyes widened in surprise, then softened with understanding. “That’s amazing, Marc. You’d be great at that.”

“Thanks. I know it won’t happen overnight, and there might be bumps along the way, but I’m committed to making it work. It’s what Mia and I need.”

Ken nodded, his hand squeezing mine in reassurance. “You can do it. I believe in you.”

His belief in me was like a lifeline. For the last few years, I had doubted my worth and questioned every decision. But now, with Ken’s support, anything was possible.

I imagined Mia running her hands through the soil, her laughter filling the air as we built our life together, stronger than ever. “There’s something else,” I said, meeting his gaze. “If you’re willing to wait, I’d like to explore what we have when you’re ready.”

“I think you know already how much I want that.” Ken pressed his lips to mine, his nod conveying his agreement. “Just a few more months,” he whispered, pulling me closer as a cool breeze stirred. His breath, warm on my neck, made me shiver. “We have to be patient, for Mia and for us.”

Keeping our relationship under wraps would be a challenge, but I couldn’t go back to life without Ken. He’d become more than a friend—he was my missing piece.

Eventually, Ken untangled himself, rising with a soft grunt and offering his hand to help me up.

We walked hand in hand to the gate, our fingers intertwined. As we reached the threshold, I pulled him close, capturing his lips in one last kiss, pouring all my love and devotion into it.

When we finally parted, breathless and flushed, I looked around, realizing that Ken’s car wasn’t parked in front of the house. “Where’s your car?”

Ken ducked his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “I parked it down the street. Just in case.”

The words hit me like a punch in the gut, a stark reminder of our current situation. That Ken had to take such precautions, that we had to hide our relationship like it was a dirty secret—that hurt, especially after hearing how he ended things with Alex for the same reason.

One day, I promised myself, we wouldn’t need to hide. Just a few more months.

I wanted to walk Ken to his car. I wanted to make sure he was safe and protected and that no one ever hurt him in any way again.

I couldn’t, not yet.

But as I looked at Ken’s face, his features softened by the moonlight, I would do whatever it took to see that soft, well-kissed look in his eyes again as soon as possible. I reached out, cupping his face in my hands, my thumbs tracing the contours of his cheekbones. “Buenos noches, mi amor .”

Goodnight, my love.

As Ken slipped out into the night, his slim silhouette fading into the distance, peace and contentment washed over me.

I was ready for whatever came next—because Ken was worth fighting for.