Marcus (Signature Sweethearts Book 6)

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Marcus (Signature Sweethearts Book 6) Page 12

by Kelsie Rae


  Again, she remains silent, her teeth digging into the tender skin of her lips until they turn white.

  She’s torturing herself, in more ways than one.

  Carefully, I release her hand before bringing my own to both sides of her face, cradling her like a China doll. My thumb brushes against her lower lip in hopes of reminding her to relieve the pressure. Thankfully, she does.

  “Natalie….”

  “Take me home, Marc. Please,” she begs.

  When I hear her call me Marc instead of Marcus, my heart starts pounding. I can’t decide if it’s because I’m relieved she called me that––or terrified of what it might mean.

  The name holds a special meaning for me, and she knows that.

  Gently, I press my lips against her forehead before guiding her to the street and hailing a cab. Our apartment isn’t far, but with the evening’s turn of events, I want to get there as quickly as possible.

  As soon as the door closes behind us in our apartment, Natalie turns around and wraps me in a hug. She rests her head against my chest as I release a stilted breath.

  I’m so stunned that it takes a second for me to return the embrace, but as soon as my brain connects with my body, I blanket my arms around her, pulling her closer.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

  “Don’t be sorry, baby. Just…just tell me what’s wrong.”

  She shakes her head slightly.

  “Was Soph mad about us?”

  Again, she shakes her head, only this time she continues. “No. She’s really happy for us, Marc. Ecstatic, actually.”

  I smile softly. “That’s good, baby. I knew she’d be okay with it.”

  “I know,” she sighs. “Me too. I’m sorry I made you keep it from her.”

  I squeeze her tighter. “Don’t be. I’m sorry I pushed you into making out with me in the bathroom.”

  A small giggle escapes her, and the sound immediately soothes the anxiety pulsing through me. “Always so bossy,” she teases. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

  I rub her back affectionately before placing a kiss against the top of her head. “Ditto. Are you feeling better now? You had me worried.”

  She looks up at me, scrunching her face as guilt flashes in her gaze. “I’m sorry I freaked you out. I didn’t mean to. Will you forgive me?”

  Leaning forward, I place another kiss against the tip of her nose. “Always, Natalie. Always. Seeing you like that? It scared me. Can you tell me what happened?” As soon as the question slips past my lips, I see her shoulders slump under its weight. “You know what?” I continue. “It doesn’t matter. I want to tell you something.”

  Her brows furrow. “And what’s that?”

  “Natalie,” I take a deep breath. “I lo—”

  “Don’t,” she interrupts. Her face is flushed with panic as her gaze bounces around my face like a pinball machine.

  Now it’s my turn for my brows to furrow. “What?”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “Nat—”

  “No. Don’t say it. Please,” she begs.

  I shake my head. “But why? I don’t understand?”

  Licking her lips, she reaches up on her toes and presses her mouth against mine. When she pulls away, her eyes are glistening as she whispers, “I don’t want this to hurt.”

  “It won’t hurt, baby. I promise.”

  She shakes her head in frustration. “You can’t promise me that, Marc. No matter how badly you want to. We can’t tell the future.”

  “But you are my future,” I argue.

  Releasing an unsteady breath, she lifts her hand and presses it against my cheek. I have no doubt that the stubble across my jaw is scratching her delicate skin, but I don’t care. I need her touch right now. More than anything. “I want that more than you can ever imagine, Marc. But no matter how hard we try, we can’t predict the future. All we can do is savor the present and soak up every sweet moment we’re gifted with. Will you help me do that?”

  I swallow thickly, the panic easing in my chest at her soft touch. “Of course, baby. What do you need?”

  “You.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah,” she whispers. “Only you.”

  Again, she rises on her toes and presses her lips to mine. Only this time, the kiss is filled with a sweet hesitation that acts like an aphrodisiac, shooting straight to my groin. I let her take the lead as she slides the tip of her tongue against my lower lip, sneaking a taste. Again, hesitant, yet filled with so much promise I have to contain a groan from escaping me. When she follows it with her fingers sensually scraping against the back of my neck, I’m done for.

  As though she’s a helpless bird, I gently press my hands against her lower back, pulling her toward me. Our hips connect, and she whimpers into me at the promise of what’s to come.

  Softly, I tuck a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, our lips still dancing with each other as I whisper, “You have me, Natalie. You’ve always had me. I think the question is, can I have you?”

  She knows what I’m asking. I’m asking for a piece of herself that she can only give away once. I’m asking for a part of her that she’s never shared with anyone before. I’m asking to be her first, and maybe even her one and only.

  The thought makes my heart want to explode, and I promise myself that I won’t take it for granted. It’s a gift. The greatest one I’ll ever receive––if she’s willing to give it to me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Marcus

  The vulnerability in her gaze is enough to gut me as she considers my question. “You’ve always had me too. Take me to bed, Marc. I think it’s time you claim something that’s always been yours.” She’s smiling coyly by the time she finishes, and it’s enough to break the weight of her words, but not the lust permeating the room.

  I grab on to her playfulness with both hands. The morose feelings from before almost killed me.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” I grin, entwining our fingers and leading her down the hallway.

  When we step inside the room, I take my time kissing her before softly tugging on the zipper of her off-white dress. The same one that drove me mad only hours before.

  “This dress….” I shake my head as I lean in and press an open-mouthed kiss against her collarbone. I slide the zipper down until it reaches just above her ass. It would only take a quick tug to remove it fully.

  “What about this dress?” I can hear the smile in her voice as she peeks up at me.

  “I guess it’s only fitting that it’s white.”

  She quirks her brow. “And why’s that?”

  “Because I’m about to take your virginity like an innocent little bride on her wedding night.”

  “You asking me to marry you, Marcus?” she quips.

  I laugh before swooping in for another kiss, making sure to convey my feelings with my mouth and tongue.

  When she moans and starts grinding against me, I know I’ve achieved it.

  As I pull away to answer her question, she bites my lip in protest.

  Lightly, I spank her firm ass, which causes a surprised giggle to escape her.

  “You won’t even let me say I lo—”

  She scrambles to cover my mouth, making my chest shake with laughter.

  Carefully, I reach for her fingers and pull them away from my face so I can continue.

  Her expression is still painted with faux horror at my mention of the ‘L’ word that I can’t help but grin.

  “Well, that just proved my point nicely,” I jest. “What I was going to say was, you won’t even let me say” —her eyes pop— “that, so I can’t even imagine how you’d react to a proposal.” Leaning in, I plant a soft kiss against her nose. “I don’t think you’re very good for my ego.”

  That same nose scrunches in embarrassment before she covers her discomfort with a snarky reply. “And I thought there was less talking during sex and more thrusting.”

  My booming laugh echoes thro
ughout the room. Man, she’s sassy. Playfully, I push her chest to make her tumble onto the bed. It works like a charm. Her dress is still mostly on as she clutches it to her breasts. With a wicked grin, I lean forward and pull it the rest of the way off, revealing a very gorgeous, very disheveled Natalie, who looks good enough to eat. Again.

  “You want thrusting?” I ask with a wicked grin while standing over her.

  She squirms on the bed. “I want whatever you’re willing to give me.”

  “Lies,” I tsk before pouncing on top of her. Caging her in with my arms, I plant another long, slow kiss against her lips. “I want to give you the ‘L’ word, but you won’t take it.”

  She wraps her legs around my waist and starts to rub herself against me, though I’m not sure if she’s conscious of her movement or not. “Then shut up and show me.”

  Another laugh escapes me before I grind into her forcefully. She gasps, her mouth open wide, before reaching around my neck and pulling me closer.

  So that’s exactly what I do. I show her with my body what she won’t let me confess with my words.

  And she takes every damn thing.

  I love the shit out of this girl, and I know she loves me too. With every bated breath, with every heated glance, with every fiber of her soul. If only I could convince her to say it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Natalie

  “Bonjour!” I greet Chef Thomas in a chipper voice. Ever since my night with Marcus, the sky is bluer, the air is fresher, the smiles are more genuine than ever. The only thing that’s not so great? The guilt I feel knowing that my relationship’s expiration date is just around the corner.

  I release a somber sigh.

  “Ca va?” Chef Thomas asks with concern. He must be able to see the way my shoulders deflate right before his eyes.

  “I’m good.” I smile, trying to reassure him.

  “Bien.” He nods before grabbing his jacket on the coat rack. My brows furrow in confusion as I scan the giant kitchen in front of me. The normally ingredient-laden counters are left bare. The stove is missing its pots. The cutting board is absent too.

  “Umm…is there not a lesson today?”

  “Non. There is a lesson.”

  Again, I look around the kitchen.

  Nope. No food magically appeared.

  Wiping my hands against my jeans, I ask, “Okay…well, what are we learning then?”

  “Today, we learn to do hard things, oui?”

  I sigh before leaning my hip against the cleaned stainless-steel counters. “And what kind of hard things are we talking about, Chef? I feel like I’m missing something.”

  He smiles softly before rounding the corner of the counter and patting my back. “Today, you tell your friends of your intentions.”

  Before I can stop myself, I flinch. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Mon apprenti,” he tsks. “I ran into Crazy Cherie yesterday. You have not told her.”

  He’s talking about Indie, his crazy sweetheart and pseudo-daughter. Indie’s the one that brought us together after taking his couple’s cooking classes with Rhett. Sometimes I feel like Chef won me as some sort of consolation prize, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

  Shaking my head, I confirm his suspicion. “No. I haven’t told her.”

  “Mon apprenti, pourquoi?” Why?

  Aaand, there’s the guilt again.

  “I don’t know, Chef Thomas. I just….” I drag my fingers through my hair in frustration. “How do I tell her that I’m leaving?”

  “Have you told none of them?” His brows pinch in confusion.

  Releasing a sigh, I look over at Chef Thomas. “I told Sophie yesterday at the gender reveal party.”

  His eyes light up in understanding. “Ah, oui. That is why she was upset when you left, non?”

  “Yeah.” I sober as the memories of our conversation hit me full-force.

  Nodding, he asks, “And is that all? Have you told no one else?”

  I shake my head, biting my lower lip. “No. No one else.”

  He wraps his arm around me, pulling me into a fatherly side-hug. “Then that is our lesson for today, comprenez vous?”

  My hands are trembling at my sides as I consider it. After a long pause, I swallow the anxiety down. “Oui. I understand.”

  “Bien. First, we shall visit Crazy Cherie. I want a cronut.”

  A dry laugh bubbles out of me as I link my arm through his, and we exit the kitchen.

  “Cronuts it is.”

  “Hey, you! What are you doing here?” Indie’s voice echoes through the tiny shop as soon as Chef Thomas and I enter.

  “Hey,” I offer. “Ummm….”

  Damn this is going to be difficult.

  Chef Thomas gives me a soft push toward the counter. I look over my shoulder, my eyes narrowing in annoyance. He simply smiles innocently back at me, which only makes me want to smack him.

  Indie watches our silent interaction before asking curiously, “Everything okay?”

  Licking my lips, I take another step closer. “Can I talk to you for a second? In private?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Her gaze bounces to Chef Thomas, but he doesn’t give her any hints. When she turns her attention back to me, she tilts her head to the back. “Come on.”

  I follow her through the door that leads to the industrial kitchen as tears gather in my eyes.

  Shit. This is harder than I thought it would be.

  “What’s up?” Her voice is calm. Soothing. Exactly what I need if I have any hope of getting through this for a second time in two days. Unfortunately, it does little to calm my nerves.

  Shrugging, I bounce on the balls of my feet as the same anxiety from earlier makes another appearance. My fight-or-flight instinct is begging to take over, but I fight it.

  Chef Thomas is right. This is a lesson I need to learn. I need to face this head-on instead of sticking my head in the sand any longer.

  “I’ve been cooking with Chef Thomas.”

  Her eyes shift to the door that leads to the front of the shop. “Okay?”

  “He thinks I’m good. He thinks I have a lot of natural talent….” My voice trails off as I try to find the right words to continue.

  “You do!” she gushes. “You’ve caught on to baking faster than anyone I’ve ever met.”

  Her compliment makes me smile, giving me the courage to continue. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you, Indie. Seriously, you’ve been the best boss a girl could ever ask for. The best friend a girl could ever ask for too.”

  She tilts her head before laughing dryly. “Why does this sound like you’re breaking up with me?”

  With a gulp, I let the words tumble from my mouth. “I’m leaving.”

  There. I said it.

  Her laughter stops. “What?”

  I swallow again, but my throat still feels like sandpaper. “Chef Thomas knows someone in Paris who is the head chef at a culinary school. He mentioned my raw talent to her, and…and I guess he called in a favor too, because she invited me to come.”

  Indie doesn’t move a muscle as the heavy silence hangs over us. “So, what does that mean, exactly?”

  “It means I’m leaving. I’m moving to Paris.”

  “When?” she asks with glassy eyes.

  My voice is nothing but a whisper. “I leave next week.”

  Her gaze drops to the ground, her shoulders slumping. “I know it’s short notice, and I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to tell you,” I rush out.

  Slowly, she lifts her head before pulling me into a full hug, and I return it by wrapping my arms around her. “I’m so sorry. I feel terrible. Please don’t hate me.” I’m rambling, which isn’t like me, but I can’t help it. I need to fill this silence with something. Anything.

  “Shh…” she shushes me. “Don’t apologize. I’m not mad at all.”

  “You’re not?”

  I can almost feel her smile as she huffs out a soft laugh. “Of course not! I’m so damn
happy for you, Natalie. I’m just really going to miss you. You’re the third amigo. What are Sophie and I going to do without you?”

  Pulling away, a watery smile graces my lips. “You two are going to live your happily-ever-afters with your guys. And it’s only nine months. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Promise?” she asks with her big puppy dog eyes.

  I grin. “Promise.”

  Gathering me in another hug, she squeezes the crap out of me until I’m gasping. “Let me go! I can’t breathe!”

  She giggles as she releases her hold. “You’re going to rock it, Nat. Seriously.”

  “You really think so?” Because I’m terrified, I think to myself.

  “I know so! Now, I gotta get back out front before Chef Thomas steals all the cronuts. Rhett will be pissed if I don’t bring one home. But, seriously? I’m so excited for you. You better teach me all your trade secrets when you get back, okay?”

  I nod. “Deal.”

  As we walk to the front, a weight feels like it’s been lifted. Until I remember there’s still one other person I need to tell.

  Two down, one to go.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Marcus

  As I’m signing off Flinch after a grueling game of Gateway Guardians, I hear the front door close.

  The sound of Natalie’s boots tapping against the laminate floors acts like a siren’s call that pulls me from my computer chair.

  When I round the corner and am given a glimpse of the kitchen, my steps falter. Damn, she’s beautiful. She’s still wearing her gray jacket, and a maroon beanie sits on the top of her head, with her long, dark hair cascading around her shoulders. She must feel my presence, because she peeks over her shoulder, gifting me with a hesitant smile.

  She woke up this morning in my bed, as I held her all night long. To say the moment was surreal would be a massive understatement. I’ve dreamt of having her sleep in my arms for years. Hell, decades. I just never would’ve guessed it would come true. Unfortunately, her phone was left in the kitchen, so she missed her alarm and had to tumble out of bed to make it to work on time.

 

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