Mark made an audible intake of breath when I said the dreaded b-word, and I buried my face in his chest, drawing strength from the steady thump of his heart. Regardless of how he felt about labels or relationships, his pulse wasn’t racing, and he wasn’t trying to chew off his arm like a rabid dog, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to say a little more. Or I could be digging myself deeper. Either way, I propped my head on his chest and owned it, feeling his breath fan across my face.
“I want to ask you why you don’t want to be in a relationship. But then I remember how shitty my last relationship was, and I wonder if I even want to be in one since so many things in my life might be changing. So, I’m crampy and confused, a little pissed, and tired, and so, so happy to be here with you. All the things.”
I threw one leg over his, and he stroked up and down my arm, holding me so tenderly my ovaries would explode if they weren’t currently trying to murder my uterus.
“Jenna…” he said, and I heard the timbre from deep in his chest.
“No, that’s okay. I mean, it’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything. How was your day?”
Why did I just ask him that?
All I wanted to know was why he said what he did on the phone, not how his day was. Besides, the blanket under me was feeling lumpy. Moving, I tried to adjust my body, but it didn’t work. I tried to sound light and cheerful, but I was sure I failed miserably. Nonetheless, after another few seconds, Mark propped one arm behind his head and ran his other hand underneath my pajama top, resting his large palm on my stomach.
“This doesn’t hurt, does it?”
“No. You feel good.”
He nodded, and the thumb on my stomach caressed the skin every so softly, back and forth, as he started talking in that soothing, baritone voice of his.
“I’m sorry you had a bad day, and I’m glad I’m here with you.”
Glad he was here with me? Right.
It was hard to fully focus on what Mark was saying after that line because it felt like bullcrap. Naturally, my eyes found the one spot in my bedroom that irritated me—the only spot that was still out of Phoebe’s reach. The dead plant sat unloved and tucked away in the top corner of the tallest shelf on my bookcase. It gnawed at me now more than ever. It was barely more than a wilted, brown stalk and hardly recognizable as ever being green and vibrant. Kind of like how my heart was wilted by playing this less than honest verbal sparring match with Mark.
“My dad was a cop. Did I ever tell you that?”
I lifted my head from his chest and looked at him, really looked at him. Now he was being sincere, and I could feel the shift in our conversation. We were heading into deeper waters, uncharted territory.
“No, you haven’t told me about your dad.” I patted the center of his chest, and he caught my fingers, bringing them to his lips.
“He retired after twenty-five years, and cancer took him ten years after that. I remember it like it was yesterday, Jenna. The day I graduated from the academy and joined the force. My dad had taken me out for a beer. We were sitting at the bar, and he told me how proud he was of the man I’d become. He was the one that gave me this.”
Mark paused and lifted his horseshoe pendant necklace for me to see. I held the thick chain between my fingers, feeling the cool metal on my skin as he spoke.
“He said it would always bring me good luck. I guess I got overly superstitious after he died. You probably think I’m paranoid, and maybe it’s gotten a little out of hand, but it makes me feel close to him. The longitude and latitude coordinates I have tattooed on my side are where he was born and where he’s buried.”
He lifted one hand from my side and touched the tattoo. He had this stone-cold, robotic expression on his face like he was preparing himself for what he was about to say.
Before he could continue, I had to interrupt him.Paranoid? I don’t think so.
“Hey, Mark.”
“Hmm.”
“I know you get all uncomfortable when someone tries to compliment you but listen to me. You are anything but paranoid. You are protective, kind, generous, and have one of the biggest hearts I know. If anything, I’m a better person because you’re in my life, and if being superstitious makes you feel closer to your father, then I’ll help you search for four-leaf clovers and make sure you never walk underneath a ladder.”
He cleared his throat and looked down at me but didn’t say anything. I was about to break the silence when he started talking again, quieted than before.
“I asked him if he had the choice, would he do it all over again? He looked me straight in the eyes and said no, he wouldn’t. I was dumbstruck. I grew up wanting to be like him. He was my hero, my mentor, and he wouldn’t choose the same path? When I asked him why he said the answer was simple. He said it was because of my mom. She worried, Jenna. Every shift, every time he left the house in that uniform, she worried. And even though he always came home, he wouldn’t do that to her again. I remember growing up, how nervous she was all the time. She never said anything, but I could tell. I made a choice that night, baby. I chose to stay single. To let the job be my wife, lover, and girlfriend. I won’t make someone go through what my mom did.”
I leaned up the same time Mark bent down and kissed him, pouring all my frustration and sympathy into it as our lips caressed each other. One hand trailed up my arm and cupped my face, and when we broke away, he rubbed his nose to mine and sighed. His eyes held sadness like he carried the weight of the world and not just his own choices.
“If there ever was a person I’d break my rule with, it’d be you, Jenna. But I can’t.”
Swoon. I was melting for this man. A man that didn’t want me.How could he say there was no connection, then tell me such sweet things?
He leaned down again and gently kissed me before picking up the book we started the previous night and opening it to the bookmark. “Want me to read a little more to you?”
