Chapter 5
tasted like blue raspberry
brOOKLYN
If anyone could make a situation worse, it was the man who insisted on calling me bella in a patronizing way.
He acted like I wanted this. Like I had asked for it. Well, I did not.
Unlike him, I saw no use in fighting the inevitable.
Not after I’d tried and failed. It wasn’t one of my favorite words in the dictionary, but that didn’t make it any less true.
The way I saw it, if I was supposed to be getting married, who said I couldn’t make the most of it?
Maybe even enjoy the moments leading up to it?
Although, he certainly had a knack for ruining a moment. What we deserve is often at odds with what’s forced upon us. His pessimistic voice banged in my head, refusing to leave, like a chaotic tornado of thoughts swirling around until it left nothing but a debris-filled smoke cloud.
I mean, all I was asking for was for him to get down on one knee and present me with a ring.
He didn’t have to recite some romantic poem or put any real thought into it.
The ring didn’t have to be anything extravagant either.
I would happily accept a pear-shaped halo diamond ring with a prong-set.
Five carats would do, the color and clarity making other women weak in the knees.
Of course, this would be to his advantage too.
He wouldn’t have wanted men thinking I was single, now would he?
That wasn’t to say my dating history gave me much confidence in what the future held in that particular area.
The last man I had been with wasn’t anything serious, just a one-night stand.
Robert Lyons wasn’t exactly my type, and it wasn’t that I didn’t see the appeal in older men, but it wasn’t meant to be anything more than what it was.
The only reason why I had been with him in the first place was because my father wanted to see if he could get Robert to want the equestrian centers.
Robert’s youngest son, Nathaniel Lyons, had become quite fond of his job at the center in Wellington.
He was also rather good with the horses.
Even the other employees raved about him.
About how helpful he was. How he went above and beyond.
How he was practically the definition of a team player.
However, my father happened to think everyone was like him in that they wanted their children close.
Which was why he hadn’t been able to see how Robert would refuse an opportunity to bring his son back into the fold at Lyons Enterprises by acquiring the center Nathaniel worked for.
Although, I couldn’t see why he would’ve wanted to do that since word on the street had been he had never been treated well there.
Supposedly, he had basically begged, borrowed, and stolen just to try to get in front of Robert and take the role of CEO from his older brother, Reddington Lyons.
Regardless, none of that mattered. Robert wasn’t having it. He hadn’t even so much as blinked when I had brought up my father’s offer. But I had been there, he had been interested in me, wanting to know more. We had gotten to talking, one thing had led to another, and we had slept together.
It wasn’t as though he was geriatric or anything, and he took care of himself. With salt-and-pepper-colored hair, hardly noticeable crow’s feet, and light blue, almost gray, eyes, he looked younger than his age.
“Does Brooklyn have something on her chin?” Frankie asked, jolting me from my thoughts. He shifted his camera. “Marco, maybe you want to put your thumb there and get that for her.”
“My finger is not a napkin, so…” He allowed his words to trail off, everything he needed to say already in those few words.
I almost felt sorry for the photographer who had been hired to take our engagement photographs.
It wasn’t as though someone as skilled and well-known as Frankie Agro had been available, but he was Perla Morelli’s husband, which meant he was family to the Delucas.
At least, that was the way they saw it with Dom having married Perla’s sister.
That was how we wound up with him taking our photos along the line of brownstones in the West Village.
Brownstones were quintessential to New York, serving as a romantic and idyllic backdrop that captured the true essence of premier elegance.
The story behind the setting would be that this was where we wanted to start our new beginning together.
It was a great neighborhood and a perfect place to start a family, which we were both extremely eager to do. Or so I’d been told.
Marco had been stiff from the start, but he somehow grew more rigid under my touch. My hand was delicately on his bicep, my fingers close to but not exactly curling around it. “I don’t think he’s being literal, Sparky.”
My eyes roamed over his tense body in the slim-fit two-piece suit.
The first three buttons of the white shirt were undone, the etched contours of his chest on display.
His jacket was open. He wasn’t wearing a belt or socks, and his black leather Italian loafers were making the back of my neck prickle with sweat.
“Sparky? Is that a nickname?” Frankie asked.
Marco’s jaw clenched as I forced his hand onto my hip. We both agreed to this, but it wasn’t going to work if we didn’t try to make it appear real. In that case, what were we doing here? “It’s something,” he ground out.
“Closer,” Frankie instructed, waving his hand to show us as though we needed the extra help.
We did. Well, Marco did. I knew how to be in a relationship, or make it seem like we were.
Clearly, Marco wasn’t heading to California for his big break anytime soon.
“Brooklyn, lean your head on his chest, and Marco, hold her closer, like you’re snaking an arm around her and making sure she’s cradled against you. ”
As he captured the same pose nine times over again, I made the error of inhaling, Marco’s scent assaulting my senses and nearly knocking me out.
Cologne didn’t need to be all-consuming.
As a matter of fact, subtlety was its friend.
And this? This was anything but subtle. He smelled like orange and…
and…sandalwood. Two scents that on their own were appealing, but together, had my stomach rolling over.
“Lose that bottle of cologne before the next time we see each other,” I whispered, trying my hardest not to scrunch up my nose and prolong this session.
If he was trying to off me before the wedding, he was a rookie because this wouldn’t do it.
However, I wished it would have, since in the meantime, I had to suffer. In more ways than one.
His lips twitched as though he was holding back a grin. “Lose the claws. Nails that long are only good for one thing.”
My cheek burned as he grazed his thumb over it. I was sure this angle would photograph well, but it only irked me how my breathing was coming out shaky. Looking up, my eyes caught his, and I sensed his mouth was going to screw up in that twisted smile he had been biting back before.
“These are perfect,” Frankie said, encouragement lacing his words. “I think you’ll both be pleased with the results.”
“I’ll be pleased when this is over,” Marco grumbled in a low volume, moving away from me like I was the embodiment of cyanide. He scratched his jaw. “We are almost done, right?” he asked, louder this time.
Frankie nodded. “Almost.”
I fingered the open design Y diamond necklace that was hanging above my cleavage.
With the cream blazer over a mini skirt, my neck would have appeared naked without a necklace.
“Back to your earlier question, Frankie, yes, it is a nickname. I call him Sparky, and he calls me bella. Not a day goes by that I don’t remind myself I’m the luckiest girl in the world. ”
“You should be asking yourself why you need that much reminding. Beginning to slip at such an early age?” I didn’t need to feel the teasing of his lips against my ear to know he had inched closer and was standing behind me.
His shadow loomed over mine on the ground.
His warm breath on the back of my neck made it feel like something was lodged in my throat.
I refused to turn around. I didn’t want to give him what I imagined he wanted. “Oh, he’s such a kidder, this one.” The pulse in my neck climbed. “I leave a lot of sticky notes around to serve as reminders to myself. Most times it feels as though I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached to my body.”
Marco scoffed, putting distance between us, and all I could do was watch his shadow get further and further away before it wasn’t visible to me any longer. “That’s a scary thought.”
Ignoring him, Frankie stopped holding the camera up, allowing it to lay on his chest, held up by the straps around his neck. “You know, when my wife and I first got married, we used to leave notes for one another. We don’t do it as much as I would like us to. Less time, I suppose.”
Touching a hand to my hair, I knew my ponytail wasn’t falling or getting loose, yet I felt the need to check it. It was stuck there with product. Not a lot, but enough to keep it in place. Like the way my father did with me.
Serendipitous, beautiful stories like that, the one Frankie had to share, weren’t in the cards for me.
It was a peculiar thought that I tried not to entertain if I could help it, but the very people who had brought me into this world held captive my future.
That didn’t change the fact that you couldn’t choose your family, and I cared for them.
I had a deep loyalty to them. Not that it had necessarily gotten me far.
Plastering a smile on my face, I shrugged.
“I’m sure she’d love it if you picked it back up. Surprised her with that.”
“I might just do that.” He chuckled, glancing down at his bag, like he was pondering something. “All right, let’s take a short break and reconvene in a bit.”