Page 31 of Strange Seduction (Strange #2)

Hurtin’ Deeply.

Still Day Seven.

The room was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the AC and the occasional creak of the penthouse walls settling.

Carmen lay tucked into my side, one leg slung over mine, her fingers tracing light, lazy patterns on my chest. After some much-needed rest, we filmed a few more sessions, and we finally decided to call it quits before we collapsed with exhaustion.

“You’re being quiet,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I glanced down at her. She was looking at me like she already knew what I was thinking—because she probably did.

“I’m trying to think,” I admitted.

“That’s usually my thing.”

I chuckled, wrapping my arm tighter around her. “You’re rubbing off on me, Amore mio .”

She sighed and tilted her face toward mine. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

She nudged me gently. “What you’re thinking.”

I hesitated, then spoke, “That I don’t want this week to end. And I don’t want you to leave yet.”

She didn’t say anything right away. Her hand stilled on my chest. Then she nodded, slowly, eyes tracing the lines of my face like she was memorizing them.

“Me neither.”

“I’ve been trying not to bring it up because I didn’t want to ruin anything.”

“It’s not ruining it,” she said.

I nodded. “It’s just… I feel like I just got you. And now I’m supposed to pretend I’m okay with watching you go.”

“I’m not going forever , Teddy.”

“I know,” I said quietly. “But it still feels like I’m being robbed of something.”

“I get it,” she said, looking down as her fingers brushed against the tattoo on my rib. “I’ve been trying not to get too attached.”

I turned to her fully. “That working out for you?”

Her mouth lifted in a sad little smile. “Not even a little.”

Silence fell again. Not heavy. Just… full of everything we weren’t ready to say and everything we already felt.

“I could come visit,” she offered, still tracing the same pattern on my skin. “ Or you could come to New York.”

“I could,” I said, and I meant it.

She looked up at me. “No, Teddy. I mean like, live in New York.”

“Carmen,” I sighed. “I have to work, Amore mio .”

She looked down at her fingers again. “Okay.”

“I’ll visit.”

“I know,” she nodded. “But it’s not the same.”

“I know.”

I looked up at the ceiling, forcing myself to say what I’d been holding in.

“I never did anything like this before,” I confessed. “I’ve never been attached like this. I’ve never made space for anyone in my life the way I’ve made space for you. I just love you so fucking much, Carmen.”

She swallowed, eyes shining but no tears spilling. “You don’t have to convince me. I see it. I feel it every day.”

“I don’t want to go back to life before you.”

She pressed her forehead to mine, closing the distance until her breath was mixing with mine again.

“I don’t want to either.”

I kissed her slowly and deliberately.

She’d already rewired something inside me, and no matter what city we were in next week, I wouldn’t be the same man.

When we broke apart, her voice was even softer than before.

“We still have time.”

I nodded. “Then let’s not waste a second of it.”

She curled back into me, her spine fitting the length of my chest like we’d been designed to sleep this way.

I wrapped my arm around her and held her there.

“Jayda left Tyler,” she murmured.

“I know.”

“Should we do something?”

I hesitated, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Nope,” I said finally. “Not this time.”

Because I’d learned my lesson.

I’d gotten involved once—too involved—when Kassandra’s marriage started to fall apart.

She told me she was flying out to see me in Italy, said she needed a break, some time to clear her head.

I believed her. I thought I was helping when I called her husband to check in on my niece, just to make sure she was okay while Kass was with me.

Only… she wasn’t with me. Never had been.

And my call tipped everything over.

Her husband found out she’d lied and was actually with another man. That made him hire a lawyer the next day, and file for divorce by the end of the week. Whatever mess they were in before, I made it worse. Kassandra still doesn’t talk to me about it.

So no, I wasn’t about to interfere in Jayda and Tyler’s situation. Not when I knew just how badly good intentions could blow back.

Her breathing slowed, syncing with mine, and I almost let myself drift until a phone buzzed softly on the coffee table. It was hers.

She reached for it, her fingers trembling slightly, and I watched as she answered, her voice soft and careful.

“ Hola, Papi, ” she said quietly, slipping into a half-sitting position.

I shifted behind her, resting my chin against her shoulder as she held the phone up to her ear.

“ Hola, mija. ?Cómo estás? ” He answered weakly. The sound of his voice made me frown slightly. From the pictures I remember Carmen showing me, he was so underweight, pale, but in good spirits. I prayed for a speedy recovery.

“ Estoy bien ,” she said. “ ?Y tú? ”

He sighed. “ Más o menos. Tired. But… bien. Es un día bueno .”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You sound tired,” she said, switching to English. “You been eating?”

“ Sí, sí. A little. Not much appetite.”

“You gotta eat, though. Even if it’s soup. Or smoothies. You still drinking the Ensure I sent?”

“ Sí . Carmen… no te preocupes. Estoy okay,” he explained.

Her lips pressed together. “That’s easy for you to say.”

He coughed lightly. “ Siempre te preocupas demasiado. I am the parent. ?Te acuerdas? ”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s true.

A moment passed, and Carmen leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

“Did Marcus tell you about the facility?”

I straightened at the mention of it. We talked about it briefly this morning, and she mentioned him being transferred to New York for better healthcare. While I was happy for her and her father to be closer to one another, it seemed like yet another reason for her to stay in New York, away from me.

“Yes, he did.”

“And?” she pressed, urging his opinion on it.

“I don’t know if I will make—”

“Stop it!” She interrupted. “Don’t even finish that sentence. No te atrevas .”

He was quiet for a while before he finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Carmen.”

“You sound so tired,” she sighed, a lot sadder than the first time.

“I am. But talking to you—it’s good.”

“You been resting?”

“Trying.”

“Good,” Carmen whispered, her smile soft. “You don’t need to be outside in that sun. You need to stay cool.”

“ Sí, madre ,” he teased.

She laughed for real then, wiping a tear that surprised even her. “Ugh! I hate being so far away. But I wish you could see Italy, Papi . You’d love it.”

“I’ve seen enough things, Carmen.” He said, a bit morbidly. “Are you happy?”

She paused, glancing back at me. “I think so. Yeah.”

“Good. That’s all I ever wanted.”

I sat up a little, brushing my hand along her back.

“ Senor? ” I asked softly, trying to pronounce it right. “ ?Puedo hablar con usted… un momento? ?Solo? ”

Her dad was quiet for a moment. “I see. Cosas de hombres adultos, huh?”

Carmen raised an eyebrow. “Grown men things?”

“ Sí, ” I said, teasing. “Grown men things.”

She gave me a suspicious look, but handed over the phone anyway.

“Fine. I’ll get the full report after anyway,” she muttered.

I smirked as I slid off the couch and padded toward the sliding door before stepping onto the balcony.

The air was cooler out here, brushing over my bare chest as I continued our conversation.

I held the phone up to my ear, swallowing the nerves building in my chest as her father cleared his throat.

“I’m listening, Theodore.”

We exchanged a few pleasantries, and I asked about his latest test results and how he was feeling. He gave me the usual—“ Estoy bien ,” which might as well be I’m surviving . I didn’t press him. Instead, I shifted gears.

I took a breath.

Then, in Spanish I asked,

“ Senor… Quiero pedirle suo…mano en matrimonio ”

There was a long pause, and my hands turned clammy as I waited for his reply.

“ ?Mi mano? ”

I nodded like he could see me. “ Sí. Suo mano. Para casarme .”

A minute passed. Then her father bursts into laughter.

Okay. Not the reaction I want from the man I’m asking to marry his daughter.

“ ?Conmigo? ”

My eyes widen in horror.

“No! No, no, with your daughter! ?Carmen! Perdón, perdón —her hand, no usted .”

“ Ajá ,” her father teases, still laughing. “ Bueno, qué pena. I was already getting excited.”

Fucking stupid-ass pronunciations and Fuck-ass Italian words still stuck in my brain.

I groaned. “ Merda. I’m still learning. ‘ Suo’ means ‘ her’ in Italian so…I got it mixed up.”

“‘ Su’ means ‘ your’ in Spanish,” He chuckled. It turned into a light cough, but he brushed it off. “ Está bien. Carmen still gets tripped up, too.”

I laughed with him at how similar the words sounded, but it was tight in my throat.

“You don’t need to feel pressure to ask me,” he said, switching back to English. “I haven’t been much of a father to her in a while.”

I shook my head. “That’s not true, sir. You’re still her dad. And she loves you.”

He grew quiet.

“I don’t even know if I’ll make it to the wedding, hijo ,” he said quietly, then repeated it in Spanish.

“Don’t say that,” I said. “Who’s gonna walk her down the aisle?”

He was quiet for a while, then, “Why do you want to learn Spanish so bad?”

I leaned against the railing. “Carmen. She said you wanted our kids to speak it, so… we agreed to learn it together.”

He laughed weakly. “You are a good man, Theodore.”

“You are, too.”

That got him. I could tell by his shortness of breath and the way he sniffled that he was fighting back tears. “It makes me feel good to hear you say that. I’m proud to have my daughter stand beside you.” His voice thinned.

My belly bubbled a little. “So, it’s a yes?”

“Yes, Theodore. You may marry Carmen.”

I pressed the phone into my chest and fought through the wave of emotions that ran through my body. Still, a small, ‘fuck yes’ managed to slip out.

“Take care of her out there,” he said when I returned the phone to my ear.

“I will. I promise,” I said.

“ Cosas de hombres adultos,” he reminded me.

“Right. Grown men things.”

“Good. I’ll call her next week.” He smiled, and the call ended.

I lingered for a few seconds, staring at the dark city beyond the railing, feeling on top of the fucking world. Marrying Carmen was the number one goal for our relationship, and now, it felt that much closer.

When I went back in, Carmen wasn’t in the living room anymore. I walked to our bedroom to find her sitting up in bed, rubbing one eye.

“Did he hang up?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Aww… I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“He said he’ll call next week.”

“Oh. Well… okay.” She pushed her flyaways from her face. “He sounded like he was in good spirits, though?”

“He did.”

She hummed, quiet for a second. “What did you guys talk about?”

I smirked before pressing a kiss onto her forehead. “Like we said. Grown men things. That’s between me and him.”

She rolled her eyes, stretching back out across the bed. “Whatever. He’ll tell me next week.”

Her ponytail had come undone somewhere in our earlier tossing and tumbling. She reached up and pulled the tie free completely, letting her curls fall. They ran down her back like silk spun in gold, the blonde tips catching the low moonlight.

I moved toward her, settling on the edge of the bed and toying with one of the long coils between my fingers.

“It got so long.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I’m thinking of cutting it. The blonde bits anyway. It’s a lot to manage.”

“Don’t.” I looked at her through the low blue shadows. “Not yet.”

“Why?”

I brushed the curl over her shoulder. “I love the blonde, Sweetness. It makes you look like you’re dipped in honey.”

A soft half-smile played on her lips, the kind that curved more on one side. And with the city lights behind her, the moon glowing through the sheer curtains, and all that hair cascading like a waterfall against her deep brown skin—

I was reminded.

There was beauty. And then there was Carmen. The woman was in a league of her own.

“I want you to come with me. To the investment ball.”

“Teddy—”

“Please.”

Her lips pulled back softly in the way they did when she was about to be playful. “You want to show off or something?”

“I want to make it very clear to a certain motherfucker that you’re mine,” I said, meaning every word before switching to my own playfulness. “And maybe feed you tiny overpriced desserts on a balcony somewhere.”

She chuckled, then leaned in, lips brushing mine. “I may need a new outfit.”

“Then, we’ll get you a new outfit.”

She kissed me lightly, and I leaned into it, already feeling round eight coming on.

“One condition,” She said, holding me back with a hand to my chest. “You gotta put that project you’ve been working on on display.”

My eyebrows screwed up in confusion. “Huh? Why?”

Her eyes drifted to my lips. “Cause it’s good. And you deserve to have something you’re proud of there.”

“I’ll have you there.”

“You will, and I’ll be sure to support you and that project. Okay?”

I sighed. “Okay.”

“Good, now come here.”