Page 10 of Essence of his Soul

I want the total package. Mark

A rush of warmth spread through me—a mix of excitement and something else I wasn’t quite ready to name. The thought that Mark always knew how to push my buttons thrilled andterrified me. My heart pounded like it had suddenly decided to start its own drumline. If a note had me feeling like this, what would the real thing be like?

“So, who’s Mark?” Gretchen’s voice cut through my thoughts, curiosity dripping from every word. “I thought your boyfriend’s name was Malcolm?”

Oh hell.

In all the whirlwind of Mark’s return, Malcolm Cole—good old reliable Malcolm—had completely slipped my mind. We’d met at a Labor Day barbecue Tamara hosted. He turned out to be a friend of my brother-in-law Dennis and a junior partner at their law firm. Intelligent, charming, solid—Malcolm was the kind of man any woman would be lucky to have. We’d been seeing each other casually for nearly three months. Still, Malcolm was starting to hint at something more, something serious.

And now Mark shows up, flipping my world upside down.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Go ahead…, spill the tea,” Tiffany urged, practically bouncing with anticipation, ready to absorb every juicy detail.

I forced a smile, trying to keep the chaos inside from spilling out. “Sorry, but I don’t kiss and tell.” Without giving them another chance to dig deeper, I abandoned my coffee mug, grabbed the vase, and returned to my classroom.

* * *

That evening, I was juggling Tyler’s laundry while trying to calm him down for dinner. His fussiness was kicking in, and I was barely holding it together when a knock at the door broke my rhythm.

“Who could that be?” I muttered, more to myself than to Tyler, who was watching me with those wide, curious eyes.

Tyler cooed in response, his little face scrunching up inwonder.

“You’re right,” I said with a smirk. “Probably nobody important, but I better check. Who knows? It could be HGTV coming to remodel this chaos.” I handed him a slice of banana. “I’ll be right back.”

Balancing the laundry basket on my hip, I went to the front door and pulled it open. “Mark.” I wasn’t surprised, but that didn’t mean I was thrilled.

He flashed that signature smirk that made my stomach flip despite myself. “I was starting to think you forgot my name.”

As if that was possible. Mark's tall, athletic build and those deep, irresistible eyes—were seared into my memory, whether I wanted them there or not.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, knowing full well what brought him back to my door.

“You already know.”

His topaz eyes locked onto mine, full of that intensity he always had, and I had to fight the shiver that ran down my spine. “I’m busy, but Tyler’s in the kitchen if you want to see him.”

Mark didn’t flinch at my cold tone. “Grotto’s Pizza?” He lifted a cardboard box, letting the unmistakable aroma hit me. He was playing dirty, and he knew it—Grotto’s was my weakness.

I inhaled the mouthwatering smell of Italian sausage, my stomach growling, despite the front I was putting up. “I’ve already eaten, and Tyler’s food is cooling off,” I said, trying to hold firm.

Tyler’s cry echoed from the kitchen as if on cue like he knew we were talking about him. Without waiting for permission, Mark stepped inside, approaching his son. I trailed behind, irritated with myself for noticing how well those gray sweatpants clung to him.Focus, Essence,I reminded myself.

“Hey, Champ,” Mark greeted Tyler, his voice full of warmth. How he looked at our son tugged at something deep inside me,something I wasn’t ready to deal with.

I walked into the kitchen to see Tyler beaming at his father from his highchair, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement. I sighed, placing a hand on my hip. “You can visit, but I like to have Tyler bathed and in bed by eight.”

Mark grinned, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Perfect. After that, we can talk.”

I shook my head, trying to keep my irritation in check. “Oh no, after that, I’ve got to clean up the kitchen, take a shower, and get some sleep.”

His expression softened, and he took a step closer. “It’s tough, isn’t it?”

I stiffened, not liking the way his words made me feel vulnerable. “Is what tough?”

“Raising a child on your own.”

I straightened my back, my pride flaring. “I manage just fine, and I’ll continue to do so long after you’re gone.” My voice had an edge, and I knew he could feel the walls I was putting up.

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