Chapter 22 #2
“Then I’d have respected it.” He turns my hand over in his.
“I’d still have been there. I wouldn’t have walked away from either of you.
” My eyes sting, and I blink against it.
“I’ve already told you this. I’d have fallen for you regardless,” he goes on.
“You’re an incredible woman, even when you’re mean to me. ”
A wet, exasperated laugh escapes before I can stop it. He doesn’t laugh with me. His fingers rise to trace my lower lip.
“I don’t care how mean or harsh you are to me sometimes.” His voice has gone rough. “I just like hearing you talk.” Heat crawls up my neck.
“These last few months, I’ve fallen in love with you.” His forehead comes down against mine.
My breath hitches at how easily he admits it.
“Even if Mia wasn’t in the picture and you and I had met on that road, I would still have fallen for you. If you and I had gotten married ten years ago, I would still have felt this way.”
His hands move down my sides and along my thigh. He’s laying claim to me, and it undoes me more than any seduction would.
“If you’ll have me,” he murmurs, “I want a place in your life, and not only as Mia’s father.”
“I’ve run my own life for ten years.”
“You’ve done far more than run it. I’ve never seen anyone do it better.” His palm stills on my thigh. “You’ve looked after everyone who ever stood close to you.” His mouth grazes my temple. “Not one person has looked after you. I’d like that job.”
“I don’t need anyone taking care of me.” It snaps out, an old reflex, all defense.
He shifts me until I have no choice but to meet his eyes. “Are you turning me down?”
“I’m about to—”
He kisses me. It’s quick, over before I’ve caught up to it. He draws back and lifts a brow. “Sorry. You were saying?”
“I was going to say—” He does it again.
“Marcus.”
“Mm?”
“Are you going to let me finish a sentence?”
“Not if you’re ending it with a no.” He shakes his head slowly.
I’m still annoyed, but the laugh sneaks out anyway. “What kind of hostage situation is this?”
“One where I get my way.” He looks entirely unrepentant.
“You’re impossible.”
“Tell me where I’m short, and I’ll fix it.” His thumb draws a slow line up my spine. “I could be a good boyfriend. A good husband.”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself.”
“A good father I’ve already got down.” He tips his head. “For tonight, I’ll settle for boyfriend. Or fiancé, if you’ll stretch that far.”
“I’m not marrying you.”
“Not today.”
“You’re rushing this.” I flatten a hand on his chest.
“If I slow down, you’ll change your mind.” He catches my hand and keeps it over his heartbeat. “I know how your head works.”
“What’s the plan, then? You drag me to a registry office at two in the morning?”
“That would be insane.” His mouth twitches. “I’m only saying we’ve got a kid together already, and we’re good together. Maybe we get to be reckless once in our lives.”
“Reckless how?”
“Plenty of ways.” He’s enjoying this way too much now. “We could marry, if you asked me. I wouldn’t say no.” He tilts his head. “Or an engagement. I’m flexible.”
I clap my palm over his mouth. “Or we could just try being together.”
He peels my hand off his lips, looking wholly unimpressed. “That’s a bit boring.” He kisses my palm before letting it go. “But I’ll take whatever you’ll give me. I’m excellent boyfriend material, for the record.”
“I’m too old for a boyfriend.”
“Then what am I to you?” His eyes glint. “Your lover?”
Heat floods my face. He drops his mouth to the side of my throat, grazing the skin. “I like that one. I’d work very hard to hold on to the title, every single night.”
“I was thinking partner,” I manage breathlessly.
He goes still, then pulls back to squint at me. “Partner? Are we filing our taxes together now?”
“Marcus.”
“No. We’re keeping lover.”
“I’m not introducing you to anyone as my lover, and I’m not saying boyfriend either.”
“Fine. Partner for other people.” His arm bands tighter around me. “When it’s only us, I’m your lover.”
“You’re a very clingy man.”
“I’m not.” He noses along my jaw. “With you, though, it seems I can’t help it.”
I’m past flustered and past arguing, every wall I spent a decade building coming down under him. When he tilts my chin and kisses me this time, slow and sure, I let him.
Makeup covers a lot of sins. Before nine I stand at the office bathroom mirror and pat concealer over the yellow-green stain on my cheekbone until it passes for tired.
The split over my right eyebrow has scabbed to a thin line, and I brush my hair down over it.
A couple of people glance twice on my way in. Not one of them asks.
At noon I walk to the coffee place on the corner for something to keep me upright.
The line’s short, just four people ahead of me.
A man steps in behind me, takes the small table by the window, and orders nothing at all.
He only sits there, watching me. I catch him in the mirror behind the register, then look off and pretend I haven’t.
He’s tall with a dark beard and a gray cap pulled low.
A windbreaker’s zipped to his throat in weather that doesn’t call for it, and a dark mark is inked across the back of one hand.
My skin crawls. I get my coffee, over-tip out of pure nerves, and walk back to the office without turning around once.
My nerves don’t settle the whole afternoon.
By five, the light outside the windows has gone thin and gold. I pack up my things, and when I reach the lot, I spot him again. A gray sedan sits two spaces down from my car, engine off, and he’s behind the wheel with one arm slung along the door, watching me cross the asphalt.
My stomach drops. Bolting won’t help, so I turn on my heel, walk back inside, and find Priya and Gwen still at their desks.
“Hey.” I keep my voice light. “Would you two mind walking me out? There’s a creep in the lot. Probably nothing.”