Page 58 of Essence of his Soul

Trying to clear my head, I focused on making dinner. Beef and broccoli stir-fry. Something simple. All I had to do wasput the contents in the skillet with a fourth cup and simmer until ready. The routine of cooking helped distract me from everything else.

I was stirring the broccoli when I heard tiny footsteps coming down the hall. I turned and scooped Tyler up into my arms, hugging him tight. His sweet little voice melted some of the tension.

“How’s my baby?” I asked, smiling as he wrapped his arms around my neck.

“Ma-Ma,” he said, his wide eyes lighting up when I reached for the cookie jar.

I handed him a cookie and set him down on the floor, my back to the door. I could feel Mark’s presence the second he walked into the room. My heart jumped into my throat, and I took a deep breath before I turned around.

“The weather’s getting bad. You’re welcome to stay if you’d like,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

There was a pause, then finally, “Thank you.”

“I’ve started dinner,” I added, needing to fill the silence.

“Good. I’m starving.”

The weight of everything unsaid hung heavy in the air. I could feel his eyes on me, and when I finally turned around, his expression made my stomach twist. Mark stood there, arms crossed, his jaw tight, and his eyes full of unspoken questions.

“Mark, I—”

He cut me off with a sharp shake of his head. “No need to explain.” Then he picked up Tyler and walked into the living room.

I turned back to the stove, my mind spinning. The rest of the evening, even dinner, passed in a blur. Tyler got cranky, and I was grateful for the distraction. When Mark offered to put him to bed, I practically ran to my room, needing breathing space.

What was I thinking, inviting him to stay? Even with him inthe guest room, knowing he was in the house had me on edge.

I jumped into the shower, hoping the hot water would wash away the confusion in my head. I let the steam and heat soothe my tense muscles for a few minutes. But then, I felt it—a shift in the air. Even before I wiped the water from my eyes, I knew he was there.

Through the mist clinging to the sliding shower door, I saw him. Mark leaned casually against the bathroom door frame like he had every right to be there. And where the hell was his sweatshirt? Clearly, he had already made himself at home. His bare arms were folded across his chest, and one hip was cocked against the frame like he didn’t have a care in the world. Shoes gone, feet bare, he looked utterly relaxed—as if he was watching TV instead of me standing naked under the spray of water. I was anything but calm. Ever since Mark had shown up tonight, my heart hadn’t stopped racing, my thoughts had been a tangled mess, and now here he was, staring at me like I was the only thing in the room that mattered.

I had shut the door to my bedroom but left the door to my adjoining bathroom wide open so the mirror wouldn’t fog up. At least, that’s what I told myself. But deep down, I knew better. I knew Mark would come looking for me as soon as Tyler drifted off to sleep. And maybe, just maybe, I wanted him to find me. Now he was standing there, but instead of joining me under the hot water as I’d imagined, he just stared. His eyes followed the slow motion of my hands as I slid the washcloth across my body. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down my spine, making the heat of the water seem insignificant.

In my mind, it wasn’t the washcloth anymore. It was his hands moving across my skin, his touch igniting sparks I had been trying to suppress all night. But instead of acting on the tension thickening the air between us, Mark just stood there, soaking in the view, his expression unreadable. I tried to keepmy composure under his watchful eyes. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to join me?” I asked, my voice low and a little unsteady.

For a split second, the corner of his mouth lifted in that familiar, crooked smile that always got to me. “That depends,” he said, his voice deep, rich, and full of promise. “You ready for everything that comes with that?”

I swallowed hard, my heart racing at his words. Was I ready? I didn’t know, but the heat building between us was undeniable, and every part of me ached for him. My breath hitched as I met his eyes, the dark intensity in his gaze stirring something deep inside me that I couldn’t ignore.

“Why don’t you find out?” I whispered, my voice barely louder than the water hitting the shower floor. I had no idea where this sudden boldness came from, but there it was. Out in the open. The challenge hanging in the air between us.

Mark’s eyes darkened, and for a second, I thought he might keep standing there, watching me. But then, with a smooth, deliberate movement, he pushed off the doorframe and stepped into the bathroom, his eyes never leaving mine. His bare feet padded across the tile floor as he closed the distance between us, and my pulse quickened, anticipation thrumming through my veins.

Without a word, he reached for the shower door and pulled it open, the misty steam spilling into the room. His presence filled the small space, the heat between us magnifying tenfold. I felt my breath catch as his gaze swept over my wet, exposed skin, and I felt the urge to cover myself. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. How he looked at me made me feel like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Still wearing jeans, Mark stepped into the shower, his body brushing against mine as he slid the door shut behind him. Thewater hit his skin, and I watched it run down his broad chest, glistening over the hard lines of muscle. Seeing him—so close, so real—made my head spin. He lifted his hand and gently cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over my damp skin. The touch was so soft and tender that it sent a shiver through me.

“Essence,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

My heart clenched at his words, the weight of everything between us—the years apart, the misunderstandings, the longing—hanging heavy in the air. I reached up, resting my hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips.

“You don’t have to wait anymore,” I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion.

He let out a low growl, a sound that sent a rush of heat through me, and before I knew it, his lips were on mine.

The kiss wasn’t soft or gentle—it was hungry, desperate, like we were both trying to make up for lost time. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer, and I melted into him, the water cascading over us as we kissed with a fire that had been building for far too long.

---