Page 17 of Marcus

So was the way of little ones, he’d learned.

“That is the plan, apparently,” Cella finally said, her attention coming back to him. “And you’re to be my … what?”

“Assistant?”

She laughed. “Don’t think so.”

Yeah, him either.

“If you need anything, I am here,” he said, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. “Whatever makes this job easier on you, then I am here to make that happen. I can give you my number, so when you’re in town or whatever, you can easily contact me. Mostly, I think my father just wants as much distance as he can get from this project so that Ma doesn’t find out. She acts like she isn’t, but she’s very nosy. Especially when it comes to her husband or boys. If she thinks we’re up to something, she digs until she finds it, and then denies that’s what she did.”

That had Cella smiling.

And shit …

Marcus liked the sight of that.

Probably more than he should.

It’d been a long while since he found damn near an instant attraction to a woman. Usually, it took a conversation or more, a few drinks, or a need he just couldn’t fucking scratch alone, and then he was gone before morning because he didn’t have time to indulge his interest in someone else. So was his life, and given how busy he always seemed to be, the lifestyle suited him just fine. He didn’t lead people on, and anyone who went into a one-time thing with him knew exactly what they were getting.

Right now, though?

Well, a part of Marcus found it all too interesting—and perfect—that Cella would be around to do this job for his father, not to mention he would be on her contact list as a go-between for it all. That meant she was going to be coming back, and well …

Marcus shook the thought off.

Not now.

It was not the time.

Tiffany saved Marcus from making the situation awkward when he couldn’t find his words to speak when she stood from the toys and asked her mother, “Where is my water, Ma?”

“In my purse—I left it down the hall.”

“Okay!”

Tiffany darted past Marcus, giving him a smile that he returned as she went. Such a sweet child, really. She had been willing to talk to him, though she was quick to explain she wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers.

“I hadn’t realized who she was until you came in,” he said.

Cella’s brow furrowed. “Pardon?”

“That she was your daughter. I didn’t know who would be here to do this today. So, yeah, I only realized she was your daughter when you came in. God, she’s gotten big since I saw her last, huh? And smart as hell, too.”

Ten feet away, Cella seemed to quiet as she stilled on the spot. “Yeah, I mean … she was eight months or so when we met at the funeral.”

Shit.

Yeah.

“Sorry,” Marcus said quickly, “I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. Sometimes, I get used to not having to talk about it or whatever, and then I do have to, so it takes me by surprise.”

“You look like you’re …. doing better. Happier.”

Cella nodded, a stark honesty reflecting in her gaze when she replied, “Most of the time, I am.”