Page 19 of Essence of his Soul

“Give her time. She’ll come around,” Mama said, confident as always.

“Your mother’s right,” Pops chimed in, his voice steady and reassuring like it always was. “Love takes time.”

I frowned, the frustration boiling up again. What is it with everyone’s obsession with love?

* * *

I pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine, feelinga deep sense of relief.It’s good to be home,I thought as I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the car door. A gust of cold air greeted me, sending a shiver down my spine, a clear sign that snow was on its way, promising a white Christmas. Eager to escape the chill, I quickly made my way to the front door, already picturing the warmth of the fireplace. I was looking forward to a quiet evening with Tyler—cooking a light dinner and then playing together until it was time for his bath.

What if Mark drops by?

Mentally, I didn’t think I could handle being in his company three evenings in a row. Emotionally, I felt overwhelmed. I’d had a difficult enough time recovering from our last brief encounter. When he had pulled me into his arms, lowering his lips to mine and caressing my mouth, I had felt myself weakening—almost believing we might have a chance of making it together. I had come so close to reconsidering and accepting his proposal of marriage. But at that moment, I had to fight my own personal battle of physical restraint. I reminded myself that the last time I allowed myself to believe in fairytales, the following heartache was almost more than I could endure.Thank goodness my parents didn’t raise a dummy, I thought as I stuck my key in the door.

I had barely stepped through the front door when the mouthwatering aroma from the kitchen hit me like a warm hug.Yes,I thought, a smile spreading across my face. Tyler’s babysitter had come through once again. Liz had a way of surprising me with her authentic Puerto Rican dishes, recipes passed down through generations.

I hung up my coat in the closet as my stomach growled, reminding me that the tuna sandwich I’d had for lunch was long gone. “Liz, whatever you’re making smells heavenly,” I called out as I went to the kitchen.

“I agree,” came her voice, but something in her tone made mepause. “Unfortunately, I didn’t make it.”

Rounding the corner, I froze. “Mark.”

There he was, standing at the stove like he owned the place. He glanced over his shoulder and gave me that signature wink. “Welcome home, baby.”

I tried to ignore the way his smile made my pulse race. “What are you doing here?”

“Just showing off my culinary skills,” he said casually, turning back to stir whatever was in the pan. He looked way too comfortable in my space. My eyes darted over to Liz, searching for answers.

“How was your day, dear?” Liz asked, her voice laced with concern as she looked at me like a mother would.

I sighed, trying to shake off the confusion. “I spent most of the day making Christmas ornaments with my students, then the other half was all about prepping for the Christmas assembly.” I walked around the small kitchen table, crouched, and kissed Tyler. He was in his highchair, babbling while Liz fed him dinner. Meanwhile, Mark was over at the stove, casually adding black pepper to the pan like he did this every day. I raised an eyebrow. Was this really happening?

“Mark, you didn’t mention you were coming over,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.

Liz quickly glanced between Mark and me, clearly sensing the tension. “I guess I’m partly to blame. Mark stopped by and introduced himself. I didn’t see any harm in letting him in.” She shrugged like it was no big deal. “You did say this morning that Tyler’s father was home for the holidays. Naturally, he’d want to spend time with his son.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling my frustration build.For all she knew, he could have been a stalker. “No problem, Liz. I’m sure Mark charmed his way inside.”

Mark chuckled, leaning back against the counter, looking asrelaxed as ever. “Not hardly. Liz made sure I knew the rules before she let me in.”

“I most certainly did,” Liz said, laughing with him. “But heisTyler’s father. I won’t deny a man the right to see his child.”

I let out a sarcastic snort. “He’s Tyler’s father, yes. But this ismyhome, Mark.”

“Andmyson’s home too.”

“But I didn’t invite you here,” I countered, my voice edged with irritation.

“No, but my son did. Isn’t that right, Tyler?” Mark asked, leaning down to be at eye level. Tyler grabbed Mark’s face with his tiny hands, smearing peas across his cheeks.

Seeing Mark’s expression, I couldn’t help but laugh. Liz wiped Tyler’s hands, her chuckles joining mine.

I ruffled Tyler’s hair, still smiling. “Good job, sweetheart.”

Mark laughed, too, a deep, warm sound that sent a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me. Then, with that incredibly sexy grin, he turned back to the stove, reaching for an oven mitt to pull out a batch of perfectly golden-brown garlic knots.

I watched him for a moment, feeling torn between comfort and unease. Seeing Mark in my kitchen, moving around like he belonged there, had me mixed up. It was like he fit right into this part of my life, and I wasn’t sure if that warmed my heart or made me nervous.

“All gone, sweetheart,” Liz said as she fed Tyler the last spoonful of roasted chicken. She sighed and rose, pushing the chair back under the table. “You both have a great evening,” she added.

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