Chapter 4 – Marco
I criticize myself the entire night for letting myself get as close to her as I did. I also hope that I didn’t make her feel uncomfortable.
But was I crazy—or did it seem like she was actually into it? She did grab my hand first, after all.
Stop it, Marco. You’re being crazy.
Regardless, that doesn’t stop my mind from desiring her. I even have the sexiest dream about her.
Like I had in reality earlier that evening, I walked in on her as she was singing and making dinner for us.
But when I look around, my kids aren’t around.
She turned to greet me and said that she had sent them to the neighbor’s house so that we could enjoy a romantic evening with just the two of us.
I’m instantly turned on.
“When will that be ready?”
She takes the dish and puts it in the oven, but she doesn’t shut the door until she takes a dollop of it out with her finger.
“Twenty minutes. But in the meantime, here’s a taste.” She proceeds to sexily rub the food on my tongue.
And when she goes to pull it away, I stop her and continue sucking and licking it. She moans in pleasure.
“Twenty minutes, you said?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, I can do plenty in that amount of time.”
“Prove it.”
I take her by the underarms, hoist her onto the counter, and kiss her long and slow at first—my fingers tangling in her mane of hair.
Then, I unbutton her jeans and scoot her legs out of them. We continue kissing, but I move her underwear to the side and start pleasuring her . . . first by rubbing her clit but then by inserting two fingers inside of her.
The sounds she makes in response are like music to my ears—especially when she yells my name.
“Oh, Marco! Marco!”
After she comes, I say, “Now, let’s see how you taste.” Our lips come close again, and then I nibble on the fingertips that are covered in the natural lubricant her sexual desire for me helped to produce.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The next thing I know, my alarm is going off.
“Damnit!” I yell because it’s so early and because I wish that wasn’t just a dream.
As to be expected, I look under the covers and see that I’m as hard as a rock.
If only Bea was here to take care of that.
Instead, I have to ease the situation with my own hand in the shower. But I imagined that it was hers—with her typically chipped black nail-polished fingers stroking me up and down.
“Oh, Bea,” I say out loud after climaxing.
But several little knocks on the door bring me back to reality.
“Daddy! Daddy! I have to go to the bathroom!”
“I’m almost done, sweetheart.”
“Please hurry!”
“Okay, okay.” I rinse the rest of the conditioner out of my hair and turn the shower off. “It’s all yours,” I say after opening the door, covering myself with a towel.
“Thank you!” Alessia brushes past me in a flash.
We really need a second bathroom.
I get dressed and go down into the dim kitchen to prepare two bowls of cereal for the girls and some oatmeal for me.
Soon, they are both barreling down the stairs.
“Hey! Slow down. You guys are going to get hurt that way.”
“I win!” Aurora announces after making it half a second faster than her sister.
“Oh, man!” Alessia laments.
“Enough playing around. Come eat your breakfast.”
“Can we watch Clifford?”
Typically, I wouldn’t let them watch TV in the morning, but I need the peace and quiet to prep for the deposition I have. “Yes.”
“Yay!”
“But just this once!” I call over the sound of the pitter and patter of their little feet.
Then, I get to work reviewing my notes and typing up questions and points of discussion that I need to cover with one of the main witnesses in a criminal case that I am trying to defend. When I went to law school at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, it was my intent to practice environmental law in a big city, but when Clara insisted on returning to her small hometown, I became a general practitioner as one of the only lawyers around.
Now, she’s gone, and I’m stuck here. Well, not stuck. I do like it here, and there are plenty of good people around. But I sometimes wonder what my life would’ve been like if I moved to Chicago like I planned.
***
When Bea eventually comes to pick up the girls, I find it even harder than normal to meet her gaze after the dream I’d had.
“Morning!” she says cheerfully.
“Good morning. Thanks again for doing this.”
“You’re welcome. Are we all ready to go, A’s?
“Yep!” both of my daughters exclaim.
“Remember to give the lunch lady the checks I gave you for hot lunch.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Okay, great. Do you mind helping me set up their car seats in my car? I want to make sure they’re put in correctly.”
“Sure. Of course.”
I follow her outside, and I zero in on her exposed skin. She’s wearing a tank top of some sort underneath a knit or crocheted sweater that is hanging from only one shoulder. I notice the freckles on the other. I’m lost in thought as I think about what it would feel like to bite and kiss her in that very spot.
“Marco?”
“What?”
“Can you please unlock your car?”
“Oh, sorry. Here. Let me grab those.”
“Thanks.”
With a few tugs, I make sure the seats are secure, and I hug my daughters before loading them into Bea’s tiny car.
“Have a good day at school! Listen to your teachers! Love you!” I say while waving.
After that, I go back into the house and continue my preparation... or at least I try to.
I cannot stop thinking about her. Her low, smokey voice. Her beautiful wavy hair. The way she chews on her lower lip when she’s concentrating on something.
***
We have a break around noon, and the tension in the conference room is high, and I have to get out of there.
So, with Bea still surrounding my mind, I decide that I’ll stop by the florist and get her a little gift to say thank you for helping me out that morning. I told her I’d meet her around that time anyway to swap the car seats back.
I decided to go with sunflowers. Something about them reminded me of her.
“Oh, Mr. Cafaro! Who is the lucky lady?” Gladys, the owner of the store, says before ringing me up. “You’re usually only in here to get Casa Blanca lilies for your girls.”
Ever since they were little, we made it a tradition that I would get those special flowers, which seemed to be their favorites, for special occasions. And Gladys always made sure to save some for me.
I had to laugh. “Do you know Bea Carter?”
“Of course, darling. I know everybody in this town.”
“They’re for her. She helped me out with my kids this morning.”
“Aw. She’s always been such a sweet girl. Ever since she was this high.” She illustrates her point by holding her hand near her hip.
“Yeah, she’s pretty special.”
“How’d you know that sunflowers are her favorite?”
“They are? I honestly just guessed.”
“Well, good guess. That’ll be $19.75.”
“Okay, great.”
“Pardon me if I’m overstepping. But I see a lot of starry-eyed men come through those doors, so I’ve gotten particularly good at spotting you fellas . . .”
“What do you mean?” I ask while pulling my debit card out of my wallet.
“You just have a look about you. Like you’re in love or something.”
I shift uncomfortably between my feet. “I—I mean, I am. But the only girls on my mind are named Alessia and Aurora.” Of course, that was a huge lie—not that I didn’t love my daughters, but that Bea wasn’t constantly occupying my brain.
She looks at me skeptically. “If you say so. Do you need a receipt?”
“No, that’s okay.”
“Gotcha. Well, have a great day.”
“You too.”
Oh, no. Are my feelings for Bea really that clearly written on my face?