Page 4 of Marc (Men of Forbidden Temptation #2)

STACI

Marc walks around his sleek and sporty car to open the passenger door for me.

“What about my car?” I can’t leave it here unprotected.

“I’ll drive you home.” He says without missing a beat.

That would work.

I guess I can always call a taxi to bring me back to the studio in the morning.

As if realizing my thoughts, he adds, “And I’ll pick you up in the morning to bring you back here.”

Shaking my head, I say, “I can’t ask you to do all of that. Gas is expensive, and it might be out of your way.”

I expect him to come up with a million excuses as to why it is no big deal and how it isn’t out of the way, even though he has no clue of where I live.

What he says catches me off guard and makes me like him even more .

“Your safety is more important than a couple gallons of gas.”

Emotion swells up inside of me as tears threaten to form in my eyes. No one has ever said something so sweet and meaningful to me before.

Not even my ex-husband when I was married to him.

I get into the passenger seat and let the leather cool my skin. The ride is quiet as we are both consumed with our own thoughts.

Marc parks the car in front of an older, small diner.

The outside looks like a traditional brick building with a few large glass pane windows while the inside transports you back in the day to a traditional 1950s diner.

Red and white leather booths line the walls while red stools sit in front of the long counter separating the kitchen area from the customer area.

The floors are even black-and-white checkered like the diners were back then.

Marc grabs my hand and pulls me towards the booth in the back corner of the diner. The small touch sends electricity pulsing through my body and disappointment floods my veins when he lets go.

“This is so amazing. I didn’t know these types of diners still existed.” I glance around at the decor and smile when my gaze floats over the old-fashioned jukebox.

“This is my favorite late-night joint. I come here when I have a late in the day photoshoot, or when I don’t have plans. They have the best food, too. Everything is delicious.”

Marc grabs a menu from behind the napkin dispenser and hands it to me.

“Thank you.” I offer him an appreciative smile.

Looking over the menu, I see they have traditional burgers, sandwiches, and shakes.

Marc is as giddy as a child. “I always get a cheeseburger all the way, seasoned fries, and a chocolate milkshake. The milkshake actually compliments the burger.”

My gaze flits over the pictures on the menu. “Everything looks incredible.”

How will I decide on something when my stomach wants to try everything?

An older woman comes over to take our order.

“You’re usual?” She asks Marc; he nods.

Turning to face me, she asks, “Same for you?”

“Uh, sure. Why not?”

If Marc likes his usual, then I’m sure I will, too. Plus, it did sound good- a little sweet to match the savory and cut the grease.

“Great. It will be up in just a few minutes.”

The waitress walks to the flat top grill and hangs up the order sheet in front of the cook before grabbing two milkshake glasses and bringing them to the milkshake machine.

“I’ll be right back,” Marc says, sliding out of the booth before heading to the jukebox.

I unashamedly stare at the way his jeans hug his ass, the way his shirt clings to his arms, and the way his muscles ripple with every little movement.

He presses a couple of keys and I watch as the disc changes and a fun, upbeat song comes on.

Immediately, an image pops into my mind of a bunch of teenagers dancing to this song, in this very diner long before I was a twinkle in my mom’s eyes.

Marc walks back to our booth and holds out his hand for me to take. Linking my hand with his, he pulls me until I am standing in front of him.

It isn’t until he spins me in a circle that I comprehend he wants to dance with me.

A laugh escapes my lips as he twirls me again and again. The stress and fear of seeing my ex-husband float away as laughter and giddiness take over.

Marc leads us back to the booth once our waitress delivers our shakes.

The older waitress immediately returns with our food.

“Is there anything else you two need for now?”

Marc speaks as I shake my head no. “We’re good, thanks.”

“Enjoy.” She says before helping another table.

Marc watches me as I take a bite of the cheeseburger.

A low moan escapes as the flavors explode in my mouth. The burger is hot. The lettuce is crisp. And the melted cheese is pure perfection.

After swallowing, I grin and say, “Mmm, this is incredible. No wonder you love coming here. ”

“It’s never busy, and the food is always cooked fresh.” Marc takes a bite of his burger and smiles.

I’ve never watched someone eat before, but I am mesmerized by the way his tongue snakes out to swipe the drop of mustard off his bottom lip.

Needing to take my mind off his tongue, I change the subject. “Why did you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Marc takes a bite of a fry while thinking of his answer. “Honestly, it was the first thing I could think of to get him to leave. I saw the fear in your eyes. It was as if you were begging me to help you and I didn’t know how.”

“Well, I appreciate it. Truly.”

Marc is genuine, and it did help get rid of my ex-husband, so there are no complaints from me.

Plus, it’s like a fantasy come true. Minus the ex-husband drama.

Marc hesitates for a moment before asking, “Not to be nosy or to open any old wounds, but what happened?”

I have never told anyone the full story, not even the police. It is my burden to carry around for the rest of my life.

Marc looks like he wishes he could take the question back.

“You don’t have to tell me. I know it is extremely personal and, by the looks of it, it’s still very new. I just want you to know that I am here for you, no matter what you need. ”

Taking a deep breath, I pour my heart out to Marc.

“Our divorce was finalized a year ago. We were only married for six months, but those were the worst months of my life. Jared was constantly getting drunk and then driving home.”

I hated when he drove drunk. There’s a lot I could deal with, but drinking and driving wasn’t one of them.

Forgetting my food, I continue, “At first we argued all the time about it, but eventually, I was silenced. One night was so bad that I had to call for an ambulance. I filed for divorce the next day.”

I take another deep breath to keep my nerves calm so I don’t cry in front of him.

“Stupidly, I believed his promise to change his ways and took him back, but it only got worse. His anger only seemed to grow as the months went on. I no longer recognized the woman staring back in the mirror; I became a shell of myself.”

Marc reaches across the table and places his hand on top of mine.

“All of my friends left me because I wasn’t allowed to leave the house. My family disowned me. I literally had no one- just my ex-husband.”

I learned a long time ago that people don’t change. Sure, things might be better for a few days, but eventually they revert to their old self.

Marc’s eyes furrow with concern. “I am so sorry you went through that. No one, especially a caring woman like you, should have to go through that. You are incredibly strong to up and leave after enduring months of abuse.”

“To be honest, it still haunts me to this day. My nightmares are very realistic. That’s why I was late this morning, and because I stayed up entirely too late editing pictures.”

A small smile forms on my face. I’m a workaholic.

Marc’s gaze locks onto mine. “I could tell something wasn’t right, but I wasn’t going to pry.”

“The nightmares take so much out of me. I always feel emotionally drained after having one. Luckily, I love my job, so it helps keep my mind off of my shitty past.”

I take another bite of my burger. There’s no way I want it to go to waste.

Marc pops a fry into his mouth. “Well, if I have to guess, I’d say that you will have a very successful and happy future.”

Something in his gaze makes me believe him. If only I can get rid of my ex-husband and my recurring nightmares.

Marc shoves another fry into his mouth. He looks adorable doing it. I can’t help but to laugh. “How about a happier topic? How did you get into photography?”

“Since I wasn’t allowed to work, I needed a hobby during the day, so I started a rose garden. I wanted to be able to look back at my roses and smile. I didn’t have a camera, so I bought a cheap beginner one and the rest is history. ”

“Now look at you. You have your own studio and great companies wanting your business.” Marc looks proud of me, like he was in my corner the entire time.

Ever since his first photoshoot, he has been in my corner.

He praises me to other models every time there is a new one in the studio. He has even posted his praise on social media.

I saw it one day while looking at his profile.

I finish my burger and take a sip of my now semi-melted chocolate milkshake. “It’s kind of surreal to think how far I have come in such a short time.”

The sweetness of the chocolate compliments the savory burger, just like Marc said it would.

I change the conversation off of me. “So, enough about me. How did you get into modeling?”

“Besides my obvious good looks?” Marc grins like he just told the best joke ever.

“Humble too, I see.”

Marc grins wider, causing me to laugh. Eventually, Marc joins in.

“The idea and passion started in high school. I was your typical scrawny computer nerd who wasn’t very good looking.” Marc explains.

He is so buff and hot that my mind refuses to picture him as a nerd. “There is no way. I can’t picture you as a scrawny nerd.”

“Believe it. I have pictures at home I can show you. Anyway, I hated how the jocks bullied me and the girls laughed at me, so I changed. After graduation, I spent all my spare time at the gym every day and eventually bulked up.”

My gaze wanders over his biceps. Yeah, he bulked up in all the right places.

He continues, oblivious to me checking him out.

“I worked in my dad’s office as a part time IT support to earn some money. Adam and I met at the gym one day and immediately became friends. He told me all about his modeling gigs and asked if I was interested.”

Ah, so Adam is responsible for introducing Marc into my life. I should thank him one day.

The softest sigh comes from Marc as he takes a trip down memory lane. “I still help my dad at the office to supplement my income until I become more famous.”

Marc looks embarrassed, but everyone has to start somewhere.

Seeing the defeat in his eyes causes my heart to break slightly, so I fill him in on some behind-the-scenes news.

“Well, the executive and I were talking yesterday, and he said he wants you for every photoshoot they have coming up. You are about to be a very busy man. But you didn’t hear that from me. Your agent is working out the details with the company.”

I could get in trouble for telling him what they said in the meeting, but I trust Marc.

“What? That is amazing! Why hasn’t he called me yet?” Marc checks his phone for any missed calls or texts.

“He’s probably trying to hammer out the details of a contract. Not that I know what your current pay is, but I personally would demand a pay increase, since they are thinking of keeping you semi-exclusively. That will limit who you can work with in the future.”

“Are you their exclusive photographer?” Marc asks before drinking the rest of his shake.

Following suit, I drink the rest of mine before saying, “For most of their shoots I am. With them giving me first dibs on their new line, I hope I will eventually be their exclusive photographer.”

That would come with a huge pay raise and guaranteed work all year long, not just for the spring and summer lines.

“I’m sure you will be. You nailed the shoot today. Besides, you are the best photographer to work with.” Marc touts.

This is why I have a fucking schoolgirl crush on him. He is incredibly sweet, caring, and he compliments me all the time.

“Thank you.” I reply quietly.

“Ready to get out of here?” Marc looks like he wants to stay, but we both know it is getting late.

“Yeah. I still have work to do.”

Although the photos aren’t due until next week, I try to get them done the same day or the day after to keep from getting behind.

Once we are back inside Marc’s car, I give him my address and he programs it into his phone. The drive home is full of laughs, flirting, and singing despite the situation earlier with my ex.

Before Marc can turn onto my street, I see Jared’s car parked in front of my house. It isn’t hard to miss since everyone on my block parks their cars in their garages.

Marc notices the change in my emotion and parks on the side of the road. Following my gaze down my street, he asks, “Is that his truck?”

I nod, unable to answer. Fear creeps back through my veins.

“Why is he doing this?” I squeak out. “How did he even find my address?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you call the police?” Marc reaches for his phone, but I grab his hand.

“I-I can’t.” I stammer.

Marc raises his voice. Anger and disbelief are evident in his tone. “Why not? You already have a restraining order and it’s clear he is violating it.”

I cry out. “Did you hear when he asked if I forgot who his friends were? His best friends are the police chief and the sheriff. They will not do a damn thing about him violating the restraining order.”

My voice gets quiet as my future becomes very clear. “My only safe option is to move into a different jurisdiction.”

“Isn’t the studio in a different county?” Marc asks after a few moments.

“Now that you mention it, yeah, but they don’t have any houses close to the studio like this one. ”

I have loved this house from the first moment I saw the pictures online. Once I stepped foot inside, I knew it was home.

How can I just up and move?

“It’s late. We don’t have to figure anything out right now. Why don’t you come stay at my place?” Marc offers.