Millie
The cool breeze enveloped my face as we walked back down the Embarcadero toward Chinatown. The day had gone much better than I’d expected. We’d taken the cable car to Russian Hill and walked back down to the pier where we’d gotten sandwiches and coffees inside the Ferry building before walking down to Pier 35 and catching a ferry to Alcatraz. We’d enjoyed the self-guided tour and Marco had bought me a mug as a souvenir which he was now carrying in a plastic bag for me. I was tired and happy, and even though Jane had sent me a dozen text messages telling me not to fall for her brother, I was still in a good place.
“So, want to grab dinner? Or are you fed up after spending the whole day with me?” He gave me a cheeky grin, knowing that probably no woman ever got tired of his company.
I knew I should go home now. If we had dinner and drinks, who knew what could happen.
“I’m not sure. I should probably go home. I’ll have to go to work early tomorrow to make up for my missed day today.”
“Was Tate upset?”
I shook my head. I didn’t want Marco to hate Jane’s boyfriend. I could already see that he was super protective of her. I didn’t need to cause any trouble for either of them.
“No, but we have a big presentation next week, and I want to do a good job for him. It will help us to get more funding.”
“I thought he and Jagger were billionaires.”
“They are. But I guess that’s how they stay rich. They spend other people’s money.” I stared at him for a few seconds and then asked him the question that had been in my head all day. “So, you coach, right? What was the injury that made you leave professional baseball?”
“I do coach. High school.” His head tilted with regard, but I could see the tension that now rested in his shoulders. “I’m moving on to college in the fall. USC.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that before, I think. Or maybe Jane told me.”
“I got a concussion from a strike to the head.” His eyes bored into mine. “Pretty standard thing.”
“So if it’s so standard, why did you retire?”
“It happened to me more than once.” He grimaced. “In the same spot. The doctors told me if it happened again I might not be lucky enough to make a full recovery.”
“Oh.” I wanted to ask him what could have been the outcome, but he didn’t look like he wanted to say more about it. “Do you miss it?”
“Yes,” he said simply and then added, “No.”
Which surprised me. I thought professional athletes always resented it when they had to leave the sport behind.
“I can see you’re surprised by my response.”
“I am.” I put a hand on his arm. “I’d love to hear more if you’re willing to tell me.”
“I’ll tell you if you have dinner with me.” He grinned.
“That’s blackmail.”
“That’s the deal. I guess it depends on how badly you want to know.”
His eyes searched mine. Marco hadn’t attempted to kiss me all day, nor had he tried to get me to have a quickie. I’d been surprised and, if I’m being honest, a little disappointed. But I had a feeling that if I went to dinner with him, he’d be coming on strong again. Not that I minded. In fact, I quite liked it. It made me feel sexy and desired and hot.
“I want to know. But if I come—”
“Don’t even ask me to promise you to not make a move.” He shook his head. “I’m a sinner, not a saint, Millie.”
“I wasn’t going to ask that.” I blushed. “I was going to say, you have to be honest with me and tell me exactly what happened in your career and why you don’t regret having left.”
“I never said I didn’t regret it. I said I don’t miss it. There’s a difference.” He peered at me in surprise. “You really want to know why, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” He studied my face. “Why do you care?”
“Because we’re on a first date and the whole point of a first date is getting to know each other.”
“Touché.” He grinned. “So how does this first date rate so far?”
“Average,” I lied.
“Average enough to warrant a second date?”
“Perhaps.” I lifted my shoulder in a shrug. “Why, are you going to ask me on a second date?”
“Maybe.” He cocked his head to the side. “If the dinner goes well.”
“Of course, only if dinner goes well.” I laughed, suddenly feeling giddy.
Maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling the connection between us. Maybe it wasn’t just me that felt like I was at the start of something super awesome.
“Well, I guess let’s see how the dinner goes.”
It struck me that if the dinner went well and we went on a second date, that that might lead to a third, but it wasn’t likely to lead to a fourth. With him living in LA, a dating relationship wasn’t really feasible. Also, what if this was just his way to get me into his bed? Where could this possibly go?
I shrugged off the questions in the back of my mind, deciding to ignore them for now. I was getting ahead of myself. We’d barely had one kiss and we’d enjoyed a fun day together. That didn’t mean we were going to fall in love and get married. From what Jane had said, Marco was the consummate bachelor, and I doubted I’d be the one to change that.
Though it would be kind of cool if I was.
“These small oysters to the left are our Hog Island Kumamotos.” The waiter pointed to the oysters on the dish. “And then to the right are the Sweetwaters, and finally those larger ones are the Atlantics.” After finishing his oyster tutorial he asked, “Is there anything else I can help you with right now?”
“No, I think we’re good,” Marco answered for both of us and then grinned at me. “Bon appétit.”
“Bon appétit.” I raised my oyster. “What would be the Spanish equivalent of that?”
“I would say buen provecho.” He raised his oyster in return. “You try.”
“Buen provecho.”
“Igualmente.”
“What does that mean?”
“Same to you.” He swallowed his oyster. “Or were you hoping it meant I hope I get to eat you later tonight as well?”
“No, I wasn’t.” I held my oyster and watched as he swallowed his whole.
“Did you know that oysters are aphrodisiacs?” he asked.
“Marco, who doesn’t know that?”
“Is that why you suggested we come here?” He winked at me. I just picked up my glass of white wine and took a sip. “These are good. Really fresh. Nice choice.”
“Yeah, these are probably the best oysters I’ve ever had in my life.” I greedily grabbed another one. “And to think growing up, I never thought I’d ever like them.”
“What did you like as a child?”
“Grilled cheese sandwiches, corn dogs, beef stew.” I laughed. “I’m from the Midwest, don’t judge me.”
“I don’t judge.”
“What did you like as a child?”
“Tacos, mole, carnitas, enchiladas, posole.”
“So, no Mexican foods, then?” I was pleased when he burst out laughing.
“Very funny, Millie. I like a girl with a sense of humor.”
“And I like a guy with a sense of humor.”
“Well, then we’ll get along very well.”
“Do you speak Spanish at home? Or English?” I asked.
“You have so many questions.”
“I was just wondering. You can stop me if you don’t want to answer them.”
“No, I don’t mind. We speak Spanish at home. My parents wanted to ensure Jane and I were fluent so that we could converse with our grandparents.”
“I wish I knew another language.”
“You didn’t take another language in school?”
“I took French for four years and still don’t know anything.”
“Come on, you must know something.”
“Bonjour, au revoir.” I shrugged. “I mean, I can count to like fifty and say some phrases that I would never use in real life.”
“Do tell …” He leaned forward. “Dirty phrases?”
“No, I can ask people what country they’re from, and I can tell them I live in a house with my mother, father, sister, and dog.” I laughed. “Even though that’s not even true anymore.”
“Haha.” He stared at me for a few seconds. “Sounds like my German skills.”
“You took German classes?”
“Jai.” He grinned. “Danke schon.”
“Wow, impressive.”
“Not really. I only took the class because there was a cheerleader I wanted to bang who was in the class.”
“Oh.” I forced a smile but decided not to pursue the topic. Did he do everything just to get sex? “So, tell me about baseball. Why don’t you miss it?”
“I miss playing. I miss the game.” He looked thoughtful. “It was my life, you know.”
“I can imagine.”
“But I always felt like I had something to prove. It was a lot of pressure, and as much as I thrive on pressure, I didn’t want to have to keep up with all of it.”
“All of what?” I asked softly. He stared into my eyes, his hazel eyes clouded over slightly and he sighed.
“When I was growing up, my parents wanted the best for me and Jane. They wanted us to be successful and to fit in. They didn’t want us to get in with the wrong crowds or join gangs or anything. They were scared.” He grabbed his beer and chugged. “They signed me up for a Little League group in Beverly Hills, even though we lived far away. Anyways, my dad couldn’t afford the uniforms and all the equipment, and I was made fun of …” He took another pull of his beer. “Not only was I poor, but I was Mexican, and I didn’t fit in. We were all kids, so it wasn’t like they were horrible bullies, but I felt out of place.” He chugged some more of his beer and smiled. “But then it turned out I was good at baseball and that the girls liked me, and the guys on the team started to think of me as one of them.”
“And you all became best friends?”
“Let’s just say I was seen as more of an ally than an enemy.” He cocked his head. “Most of the time.”
“Most of the time?” I leaned forward. “What does that mean?”
“When you’re a jock, there are a lot of ladies that want you …” He paused for dramatic effect. “And sometimes those ladies also have boyfriends.”
“You slept with your teammates’ girlfriends?”
“No.” He shook his head. “You don’t mess with someone else’s woman.” He paused and grinned. “Unless they want you to.”
“I dare not ask you to explain that to me.”
“Yeah, I don’t think your virgin ears would want to know.”
“What does that mean?” I frowned. “You think I’m a virgin?”
“No, but you seem vanilla.” He laughed. “There are a lot of different ways to be pleasured.”
“So are you going to tell me or not?”
“I’ve gone to clubs and parties. And let’s just say I’ve been a big hit.”
“You mean like orgies?”
“Something like that.”
I looked down at my plate and stared at the empty oyster shell as my stomach turned. I felt a bit sick and a bit jealous. Not that I judged him for going to orgies, but was that what he was into?
“So, you slept with your teammates’ girlfriends at those parties?”
“I had fun.” His voice was serious all of a sudden. “You don’t like it? Are you judging me?”
“I’m not judging you. But I would never go to one of those parties myself, and I would dump any guy that asked me to go.”
“I would never ask my girlfriend to go.” He growled. “If I had one, of course.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“I don’t share.” His eyes looked at me possessively. “What’s mine is only mine.”
“Seems like a bit of a double standard to me.” I rolled my eyes. “You can go, but your girl can’t.”
“That’s why I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“When’s the last time you had a girlfriend?”
“Years. Now eat up. And let’s get some more drinks.”
I grabbed another oyster and sat back as he called the waiter over. I wasn’t really surprised that Marco was the sort of guy to frequent sex parties, but I had been taken aback when he’d talked about his childhood. He hadn’t really dwelled on it, but I was pretty sure that those first months and maybe even years as part of his Little League group had really shaped him. Maybe he didn’t even realize it, but he had shaped his personality to fit in with the kids in his club. Though as I sat back and thought about it, that wasn’t really true. He wasn’t pretentious or snobby, and he didn’t seem like he was lacking in confidence.
I realized that I was searching for a reason to explain why he didn’t want to be in a relationship, but I was coming up with nothing. Maybe he was simply a hot guy who got women wherever he wanted and he just felt no need to commit. That wasn’t uncommon with athletes, was it? Shoot, there were many men, far less attractive than Marco, who were players as well. There was no point in me trying to analyze why he was the way that he was. I only needed to decide whether or not I was going to act on the feelings of desire that washed through me every time I was with him or if I was just going to walk away.
I suddenly felt his hand on my thigh, trailing a path up and down. It seemed as if Marco wanted to move the night along too.