Page 51 of Tripped By Love
It was something I already knew from a lifetime with my parents, but it still didn’t mean I’d want it from a man I was involved with. She squeezed my arm one more time and made her way over to Brady.
I made my way into the room and started picking up the dishes and glasses. Before I could even register it, Marco had moved from his spot on the back wall to lift the bussing bin from my hands. I shot him a look of annoyance but didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to draw any eyes—especially not my brother’s, if he and Tristan were already talking about whatever they thought might have been going on between us.
I finished collecting the items and started for the stairs. “Hold on,” he whispered.
Then, he moved over to where Jonas was sitting. He’d been hidden by Brady and the man standing at his shoulder so that I hadn’t even seen Marco’s brother when I’d come down. Jonas had his eyes trained on the live room with a look of awe on his face that made me smile. I was glad no one had sent him away, even though The Painted Daisies was recording their top-secret album. Marco spoke quietly to his brother and then headed back my way.
We walked up the stairs, and I waited until we were out of earshot of the control room to talk. “He isn’t coming with us?”
“Nah. If I took him away now, it would be like stealing candy from a baby. He’s old enough to find his own way home.”
Those simple words hit me hard. No one had ever treated me that way at sixteen.
“And I’m not old enough?” I tried to tease, but the words were backed with a frustration I knew he could read.
“If I wasn’t worried about Hardy being there, I’d never insist on walking with you, Angel.” I wasn’t even sure he realized he’d let the term of endearment slip yet again. “You know how to take care of yourself.”
I couldn’t help the wave of relief that flew through me at his acknowledgement.
“I do,” I responded. “Which is more reason for you to head back to your detail and leave me to it.”
“It was time for Trevor to take over anyway.”
We made our way through the hidden door and back into the café where there were only a couple tables with customers left. The closed sign had already been flipped on, and I could hear Cliff singing in the kitchen, which meant he was cleaning. I had a few more things to do before I could leave.
My feet had barely reached the bottom step when Clayton’s voice called my name.
I sighed, turning to see him rise from a booth as he stepped toward Marco and me in a suit that screamed money and a watch that had to have cost as much as my professional knife set. Thousands. Marco moved closer to me, the air about me filling with the electricity that drifted between us and causing the hair on my arms to raise.
Clayton’s eyes narrowed at us. “I’ve been talking to folks around town, trying to find out more about this behemoth. Imagine my surprise when I was told that Marco is your brother’s bodyguard.”
“Yeah. So?” I said, confusion drawing my brows together.
“He’sjustyour brother’s bodyguard. I don’t understand why you both lied about this.” He flicked a finger between Marco and me and then continued with anger and frustration filling his voice. “But he’s clearly not the reason you won’t give me another chance. He’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” Marco growled. Then, he surprised me by dropping the bus bin, whipping me into his arms, and placing his lips against mine. It wasn’t a chaste peck on the lips. It wasn’t a mere press of mouths to demonstrate his ability to kiss me. This was tongue and teeth and heat. Claiming me. Dragging my soul out from my insides and showing Clayton that he owned it. That I was his. All my resolve to keep the distance between us fled as I yanked his body into mine, slid my hands into his hair, and claimed him right back.You’re mine, Marco Hernandez. Mine,I wanted to scream.
Clayton choked his disapproval. “Enough. Don’t be crass.”
Marco slammed me back against the wall, dragged his hands up inside my T-shirt, and clenched my waist. His warm, rough fingers dug into the flesh there, and it burned me like a flame in the kitchen. Searing across my skin, filling my veins, making it almost impossible to breathe.
“Jesus Christ,” Clayton muttered. “And this is who my son is being raised by.”
My eyes popped open, and fear filled my chest, ice filling my veins. The display we’d put on to prove a point to Clayton had backfired. I pushed at Marco’s body, and he grunted his objection. But when I pushed again, he let me go, picking up my hand with his, squeezing to comfort me as if he could sense that something had changed in the two seconds we’d gone from hot to cold. His chest heaved as we both turned to Clayton.
“He isn’t your son,” I said, lifting my chin and shooting daggers with my eyes.
“My lawyers are drafting the paperwork to request a DNA test.”
Shivers ran up my spine, a tremble shooting through me. “It doesn’t matter if the DNA is a match, Clayton. He still won’t ever be your son. Remember, I have proof of how little you wanted him.”
“People make mistakes. I have a right to change my mind.”
“You wouldn’t be able to change your mind if I’d done what you wanted,” I said, repeating myself from our talk on the steps of my house. Fear and anger drove my voice lower until it was a growl that matched the one Marco had given moments before for an entirely different reason.
“You’re right. But it doesn’t change the fact that he does exist, and I want to be a part of his life. I would have preferred to be a part of both of your lives, but now I remember why I didn’t want you to begin with. You’re cheap. An easy lay. A woman without direction, with a failing restaurant, who hides behind her brother’s money.”
Marco dropped my hand and shoved Clayton in the chest. “Don’t ever speak like that to her again. Cassidy has more determination and class in one finger than you have in your entire being.”
