Page 25 of Tripped By Love

It was a huge acknowledgment for her. It tugged at my insides to know she was at least trying to stop treating me like I was fragile and would break if the wind hit me the wrong way.

My phone buzzed again, and I glanced down, expecting it to be Brady. A little thrill went through me when I saw Marco’s name again.

MARCO: Speaking of ordering people around. You were out on a Tuesday when you normally stay home. Did this make Arlene call the National Guard?

I couldn’t help the gurgle of laughter that escaped me. Mom’s eyes narrowed.

“Just Brady,” I lied before she made more of it than I wanted, even though my entire being was filled with joy at his simple words?the tease.

“Okay, well, I’m off. I’ll see you both in the morning.” She kissed Chevelle, patted me on the shoulder, and headed out the back door toward their house. The gate swung shut behind her, and I shot off a return text.

ME: It was a close call.

For the next few hours, the smile Marco had brought stayed on my face. I made Chevelle and myself dinner, gave him a bath, and rocked in the glider while reading his favorite stories and letting his sweet essence surround me. I wished that instead of having one day off, I had twenty. That I wasn’t always handing him off to someone. And yet, I was also eager to get back to the restaurant to create more recipes. I’d had a new idea for a cookie flitting around at the back of my brain after paying Helen for her caramel apple pie. It would take quite a few rounds before I could perfect it, which only ended up making me feel guilty again because my brain had flowed away from Chevelle even when I had so little time with him.

I kissed his sweet cheek, ruffled his hair, and made sure he had Hippo tucked up against him before shutting off the light and leaving the room with the baby monitor in hand.

I changed into my workout clothes and hit the treadmill for a few minutes, my brain flying away with ways to make the cookies without the apples making them soggy before it traveled into thoughts of the bills at the restaurant, Ralley’s upcoming meeting, and Marco’s family. When my phone rang, I was shocked to see I’d been on the treadmill for almost forty minutes.

Marco’s face on my screen surprised me even more.

“Hey,” I said, trying to control my breathing as I stepped off the machine.

“Weren’t you done?” he asked.

“I lost track of time on the treadmill.”

“What are you concerned about?” he asked, causing my breath to catch.

“How do you do that?” I asked when I knew I shouldn’t have. I knew I should have simply answered the question rather than dig into how he knew me so well.

“Do what?”

“Read me…” My throat closed, and I changed the meaning mid-sentence. “Read people…so easily.”

He was quiet for a long moment before he let out his response with a breath of air that felt like he’d had to force himself to answer. “I pay attention, that’s all.”

“Did the military teach you that?”

More silence, and I wondered if I’d crossed one step too far past the new line we’d drawn in the sand. It almost brought tears to my eyes, because I didn’t want him to retreat because of it. I didn’t want the stupid, mundane texts we’d been sending each other to stop, because they felt like the only thing I did for myself.

“My mom used to say I was good at it, too—seeing beyond what people were saying. But, yeah, my time with the Navy and with Garner Security has added to it.”

“Navy? I thought you were a Marine?”

“I was a Fleet Marine Force corpsman. It’s basically a medic. The Marines don’t have their own. They use Navy personnel,” he replied. His voice sounded pained, like talking about it was opening an old wound.

“You don’t talk about your time in the military at all.”

To be fair, he didn’t talk about anything from his life.

“It isn’t a happy memory,” he finally replied. “I choose not to dwell on it.”

“That’s how you know so much about anatomy, then?” I asked, trying to learn more but also trying to allow him to drift away from a topic that felt painful.

“Yes. At one point in my life, I thought I’d be a doctor.”

It felt like Marco been built to be a protector. To stand guard, watching over people. But I supposed, if he’d been a doctor, he still would have had lives in his hands.