Page 16 of Small Town Daddy

Lucy

Oh it was goodto be dry again. When the pipe had exploded, and water had drenched me, I’d let out this crazy squeal. I’d been afraid that the neighbors might hear me. What I’d not been expecting was to have Marcus WIilkins burst in and save me from the crazy laundry gadget.

And now, I was with him, on his way to his place. And all I could think about was that moment he’d caught me, saved me from falling full-on into the water.

He was so dang strong. It had been like falling into a tree. You know, a soft, warm, muscly tree.

As I stepped into Marcus's home, a wave of warmth and coziness washed over me. Soft lamplight illuminated the wooden furniture, casting a gentle glow. The scent of sandalwood lingered in the air, soothing my nerves. My eyes were drawn to the crackling fireplace where dancing shadows flickered on the walls.

I set my bag down, noticing an antique clock, its parts laid out across a table. Its exposed gears were a work of art. I’d never seen the inside of a clock like this, and without thinking, I ran my finger over some of the wood, admiring the stunning craftsmanship.

"Are you fixing this?" I asked, glancing over at Marcus.

A modest smile played at his lips. "I’m actually building it. From scratch. I carved the wood, machined the springs.”

“No way! It’s beautiful!”

“I’m a beginner. It’s just a hobby. Helps me unwind. No pun intended."

I smiled.

My heart raced being alone with him, acutely aware of his tall, broad-shouldered presence nearby. I was beyond grateful for Marcus taking me in, but also filled with nervous butterflies standing here in his space. Everything about his home radiated safety and comfort—qualities I desperately craved right now. Qualities I sensed in him.

I searched for something else to say, wanting to break the silence stretching between us but savoring the chance to simply drink in the details of his home. The lived-in feel spoke of a man who valued peace and simplicity. Blankets were draped invitingly across an overstuffed couch. Bookshelves lined one wall, spines well-worn from frequent perusing.

Here was a man who knew who he was, and nothing holding him back from being himself.

It felt like a haven. Like somewhere I could finally let my guard down and just be. With each passing moment, the outside world and all its troubles slipped further away. Here, enveloped by the crackling fire and sandalwood, I already began to heal.

I turned back to Marcus, giving him my full attention. "So what got you interested in clock making?”

He shrugged, a hint of melancholy shadowing his chiseled features. "Picked it up a while back. Keeps me busy, you know?" His voice was low and rich, sending shivers down my spine.

Marcus hesitated, jaw clenching almost imperceptibly. His ocean eyes dropped to the hardwood floor. The seconds stretched.

"After my divorce," he said finally, voice rough with restrained emotion. "I needed something to focus on. Keep my hands and mind occupied, I guess."

My heart ached for him. I recognized that look, that need to lose yourself in work to numb the pain. "I'm so sorry," I whispered, taking a step closer. Wanting to comfort him somehow.

His eyes met mine again, stormy blue connecting with deep green. "Don't be. It was for the best, in the end. We just . . . weren't right for each other."

“Tough to discover that after you’re married!” Instantly I felt like I’d said something stupid. “Sorry. I wasn’t teasing you.”

“No, of course. You’re right. I wish I’d known before we tied the knot. Sadly, it was, uh, complicated. She wasn’t the person I thought she was. Maybe it was my fault, too. She loved me, tried to be someone she wasn’t.”

“Not your fault. No-one’s fault.”

My belly fluttered under the intensity of his stare. I wondered what had driven him and his ex apart. What he truly wanted in a partner.

“Thank you.”

"No, thank you, Marcus." I said, my voice barely a whisper. "For everything. You saved me today. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be on the floor. Either drowning or swimming by now!"

He nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips before he cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "You must be exhausted."

I blinked, dazed. A querulous glance at a fully-assembled clock on the wall confirmed my suspicions. "Oh, shoot. It is late. I didn't realize how much time had passed."

"No problem at all. It's my pleasure, really."

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