Caramel Eyes

"Constable Bryant, have you ever seen a lawyer here this quickly after an arrest who wasn't related to their client?" Denise asked pointedly. "How many have you seen on a Saturday?"

"Fair enough," Constable Bryant conceded. The iron tenor in Denise's voice was not something Mark had heard from her before. He slowly turned to face her with an eyebrow raised, but neither she nor the officer noticed as their eyes were transfixed on each other in a subtle power struggle. The cop told Denise that Mark was accused of stealing from the convenience store.

"What items did you find on his person?" she asked.

"Well, nothing, but--"

"Can we see the CCTV footage?" Denise interrupted. Officer Bryant laughed.

"This is Viero, Ontario, Ms. Ramdas," he said. "The only place nearby that has cameras indoors is the shopping centre at the edge of town, and only because we share it with three other towns. It's not worth the effort for a little convenience store to set up CCTV."

"You realize the onus is on you, and subsequently the Crown, to prove that Mr. Vasquez did what you claim he did, correct?" Denise asked, not trying to hide the critical tone her voice took on. "And you're telling us that all you have is the store clerk's say-so that my client stole merchandise?"

Mark smiled inwardly. It's like she's adding 'you idiot' to the end of every sentence. He was in awe of this brilliant, brave woman. The officer didn't respond to Denise immediately, instead lazily throwing up his hands in something of a shrug before Denise hammered it home.

"Let me rephrase," she continued. "Is the white police officer before us telling a brown paralegal and her client who is a Black man, that you don't have a scintilla of evidence to go on aside from the white store clerk's word?"

"Now see here, Miss--"

"Do you really believe these details will go unnoticed by the Crown, Officer? Or the press, for that matter?" Denise asked, leaning forward and narrowing her brow. "Do you think when the assistant Crown attorney who has this file land on their lap asks you, 'Officer Bryant, what possible grounds for arrest did you have?'--that it will be sufficient to say all you have is the word of the store clerk?

"That's just as valid as Mr. Vasquez's word without any other civilian witnesses to corroborate either account. The threshold of proof to convict on a criminal charge is way above 51 percent, Officer, as I'm sure you know.

"Moreover, my client has been a respected teacher in this community for over a year now and is well known among students, staff, and parents at the public school. He's organized track meets and sports days, which this town did not see before his arrival. Is this really worth the embarrassment you'll face, Officer?"

Shit, she's a shark, Mark marveled, trying to reconcile Denise's cold, tough execution of her job with the warm, adoring woman who was writhing beneath him the night before. It was only a full minute that Denise stared down the cop, but it seemed like an hour to Mark.

"Give me a minute," Officer Bryant finally said, breaking the silence as his chair screeched back from the table. He left the room and Mark reached over to hold Denise's hand, but she recoiled and stared straight ahead.

"This room is under full surveillance, Mr. Vasquez," she informed him. "Audio and video." Mark then held himself motionless like Denise and waited. It wasn't long before a different officer came in, but spoke to them while holding the door open.

"We've consulted with someone at the Crown's office and they've withdrawn the charge," the cop said to both of them before turning his attention to Mark. "Pick up your stuff at the front desk; you're free to go."

Mark felt the tightness in his chest ease and dissipate as he and Denise soon stepped out of the police station and walked in the breezy early-May air toward the convenience store where Mark's car was still parked. She gave him a short smile and shoved her hands in her pockets while walking alongside him, but without saying anything more.

Dammit, I fucked this up, he realized. She had to save my ass when she came all the way out here to visit me and now any respect she might have felt for me is over.

They got in his car, drove home, and Mark unlocked his front door. He was already preparing himself to drive her to the bus station, as he was sure she'd want to cut the weekend short and probably never come back. He'd hardly closed the door and locked it behind him when he felt himself pushed up against it.

"Baby, I am so glad you're okay," Denise said as she put her hands against the back of his head and neck and showered him with kisses. Taken aback, it took Mark a second to hold her by her waist.

"You're not disgusted with me for landing myself in jail?"

"Are you kidding?" her eyes widened in surprise. "Absolutely none of this was your fault. You had the bad luck of running into several racists at the same time while doing something completely normal. There is not one white person in this country who will ever be arrested without evidence while picking up milk at the store."

Denise crushed him in an embrace as best she could, considering Mark had about 70 lbs on her. Knowing he could well crush her, he restrained himself from hugging her back as tight as he wanted to. But he held on to her like she was the rest of his life. She may well be, the thought crossed his mind. He was already unable to imagine loving another woman this deeply.

"I just didn't want to show any affection for you in public because I was acting as your legal rep," Denise murmured while burrowing her nose into Mark's neck and kissing just under his ear. "And it's kind of frowned upon for paralegals to sleep with their clients." Mark started laughing.

"You realize there's nothing I can do to pay you back for this, right?" he said, putting his forehead to hers and looking into her eyes. "If this had happened and you hadn't been here, my life would have been over. I wouldn't have known how the system works; I'd probably have lost my job... I don't know how I can make this up to you. I love you, Denise."

Denise smiled her regular, wide smile that lit up Mark's soul.

"I love you too, Mark." She kissed him long and deeply, after which he held her to his chest again. "Let's have some lunch, and then go to your bedroom," she suggested. "You can start making it up to me right away."

***********

Denise woke up wrapped in a bedsheet, the glint of the afternoon Sun sneaking through an uncovered corner of the blinds on Mark's bedroom window. She instinctively turned her face away and shielded her eyes with her hands, shifting toward Mark's empty side of the bed.

As soon as she moved, she felt the twitching between her legs and realized her body still hadn't recovered from everything Mark had done to her over the past couple of hours. Her nipples were sore, and she was pretty sure Mark had left light bite marks on her upper back.

She'd just been kidding about him paying her back with sexual favours, but he'd taken on the task with utmost seriousness. As soon as they'd cleaned up after lunch, Mark carried her in his arms to bed, undressed her, and spent God knows how long eating her out from orgasm to orgasm until she exhaustedly begged him to stop.

Denise had no idea as to the passage of time during that period; she just knew that Mark's tongue was unrelenting. Her head spun and her ears buzzed while she gasped for air after her last climax by his mouth. She only vaguely realized he was flipping her over onto a firm pillow so that her rump was in the air.

"Is this okay, baby?" he whispered into her ear. "If you really want to stop completely, no problem. We'll--"

"Please, Mark," she slurred. "Please, please fuck me just like this."

He let out a low groan and Denise then heard the sound of a condom wrapper tear open. When he was ready, Mark held both of her hands which were outstretched above her head, lacing his fingers through hers.

Denise relished the feel of his warm breath against the back of her neck, then mewed and squirmed beneath him as he entered her. He was both pressing and rubbing against her front wall, and it was only moments before Denise began to get desperate, flexing her hips to feel him deeper.

Mark paused and shifted his knees to either side of her, forcing her legs together. Then he fully thrust inside her, eliciting a squeal from an already thoroughly pleasured Denise. She clawed at the sheets in partial disbelief at how tightly she felt him inside her now, a slight wave of vertigo washing over her.

Mark's straddle gave him extra leverage, which he immediately used to speed up until he was pounding against her and she was screaming his name. She squeezed his hands as she shivered and came hard one last time, after which Mark exploded and almost buckled atop her. His teeth dug into her shoulder while he grunted and gasped for breath.

Denise felt the warmth grow in her stomach recalling his ragged groans, and that he was careful not to put his full weight on her despite his head being in the stratosphere in that moment. She hadn't known that level of pleasure or intimacy was possible until she was in his bed.

As soon as she regained her bearings, she picked up the first item of clothing she saw at the foot of the bed, which happened to be Mark's t-shirt. Smiling, she put it on and went to the bathroom to wash up. Mark was in the kitchen starting the prep for their dinner, and he grinned when he saw her.

"Keep the shirt, baby," he said. "It's never going to look that good again." Denise hugged him from behind.

"You know, with all the shenanigans today, we're still out of milk," she reminded him. Mark gave her a dry laugh, shaking his head. "But it looks like I caught you just in time," she went on. "I don't think you've cut anything yet, right? Let's go to the supermarket together and just bring a pizza on the way back?"

Mark's smile faded and he took a deep breath, looking uncomfortable. Denise held both his hands in hers and brought them to her heart.

"I know. When something like this morning happens to you for the first time, you're spooked. It's a normal reaction to something traumatic, and I hate those bastards for doing that to you. But you have to get back on the horse as soon as possible, baby. The longer you wait, the harder it's going to be." Mark exhaled and looked down at her hands holding his.

"Rationalize it to yourself if you need to," she suggested. "The chances of this happening to you again are miniscule, especially if you have a woman with you. Black and Indigenous people on their own are easy targets."

"I know, I know, what you're saying makes sense," Mark conceded. "Just... you drive, okay?"

Denise held hands with him in the grocery store while he held the basket, and they checked out less than 10 minutes later.

"See? Normal." She smiled at him as they sat back in the car, Mark now in the driver's seat. As they entered his apartment again and laid the bags down in the kitchen, she broached the topic that had been kicking around in her head.

"Do you... do you really like it here, Mark?" she asked. He looked up at her from putting some vegetables in the fridge.

"Yes and no," he answered honestly. "The kids at school are amazing. I'm always going to look back at this time in my life as really special." Then he shifted on his feet. "As for my personal life... I suppose I would think this is a great place to live if I'd grown up here. But I can't imagine starting a family here."

"Why don't you come back home?" she asked softly.

"Because..." he paused. "That's also sort of why I left. I thought I should have as many experiences as I can while I'm still young because it wasn't as if--" he stopped, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

"It wasn't as if things were going your way back home either?"

Mark flinched, thinking about seeing Denise with Caleb outside the restaurant that night over a year ago.

"Mark," Denise sadly shook her head, the same image flickering across her mind, "I made a huge mistake but I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. I was attracted to you the minute you pretended you were my boyfriend at the gym that very first night.

"But I didn't think it was proper to dump someone I was already seeing just because I was curious about you. So I guess I had a crush on you all this time. No matter what happens, I don't want you to think I'm only here because you're my rebound. With you is where I should have been all along."

"Yet..." Mark took a breath, knowing what he was about to say next would hurt her. "If Caleb had been able to commit, you wouldn't be here right now, would you?" His verbal arrow pierced through Denise's flesh, but she nodded.

"I deserved that," she said, looking down at the kitchen tiles. "If I'm being completely honest, I'm relieved he said what he said. Otherwise I'd always wonder what would have happened between you and me. Again, I didn't come all the way here to get a hit of dopamine from you. I came to see if my instinct about what we could be together was right.

"I think it was, but I understand if you don't," she continued, still avoiding Mark's eyes, "or if you would want to start fresh with someone else. It doesn't mean I'm going to stop loving you any time soon, though," she shrugged. "That's not something I think is within my control anymore."

Denise stepped past him toward the pizza box, opening the drawer beside the stove to take out two plates and put them on the table. Then she grabbed a shopping bag and quietly put away its contents.

Mark was astonished at how casually she bared her soul, not to mention how she wanted him to be happy more than she wanted him to be with her.

He'd braced himself for a few tears when he accused her of making him her consolation prize, but Denise had accepted the barb with grace. That was her--an iron fist clothed in a velvet glove.

They didn't talk much for the rest of the evening, and Mark wished he hadn't given in to the temptation to hurt her earlier. After dinner, he got out an old baseball cap and threw it on the floor in front of the TV, then moved the coffee table out of the way.

Denise looked at him curiously after she came out of the kitchen, but Mark just glanced back and beckoned to her with his head to sit beside him on the couch. He was relieved to see that thousand-kilowatt grin on her face when he opened a drawer and took out a deck of cards.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, after she took a seat. "It doesn't matter if what I said was true, it was a dick move and I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," Denise put her hand on his knee. "You weren't wrong for bringing up how my decisions affected everything." She got up for a second and moved the baseball cap slightly over. "But I'm glad you have the integrity to get your ass kicked again in this game."

"We are in Viero, Ontario, girl," Mark smiled. "The two things I've been doing the entire winter were plugging my car in so it'll start in the morning, and this ridiculous game." After they each took their turns, Denise still won with landing 46 cards to Mark's 41.

"Wow, you have been practicing," she said, looking at the time and turning on the TV while collecting the hat full of cards. "Here I was thinking this past year that you--" She froze, her eyes widening as she realized she was about to say the quiet part out loud.

"That I what?" Mark perked up, standing and stepping in front of her.

"Nothing," she avoided his eyes, recognizing he already knew what was in her mind when the corners of his mouth turned upward.

"You thought I met someone else, and that's how I was occupying my time?" His voice was low and playful. Denise gave it up.

"I thought it was likely you could have even gotten married while you were up here. There's nothing you lack, Mark. I'm actually shocked you haven't met anyone."

"There were a couple of female teachers at the school who... expressed interest... in me," Mark said shyly, not missing the touch of alarm that flashed across Denise's face, "but it's a bad idea to date colleagues if you're a teacher, especially in a town as small as this one." He put his fingers on her face and gently tipped her chin upward.

"But say that were the case and I'd secretly gotten hitched, why were you still texting a supposedly married man?" he pressed. A hush hung over them for a moment.

"Because although I was attracted to you from the start, we were always friends right up until last night," Denise quietly replied. "Even if I had no chance with you, it wouldn't mean I'd automatically find our friendship unvaluable."

Mark couldn't help but come back to the next question--the one he kept landing on no matter which angle he approached this from.

"What if I feel like too much has already happened and told you I found it too risky to have anything more than a friendship with you?"

"Same answer, Mark," Denise responded without hesitation, her voice just a note above a whisper. "Same answer."

The theme music for Hockey Night in Canada suddenly blared, and Denise jumped enough to send the baseball hat full of cards fluttering to the ground. As they both scrambled to gather everything up, Mark strangely didn't feel like talking anymore.

He felt that wordlessly watching the hockey game curled up on the couch together was as serene a time as he'd ever had, with Denise's head resting on his shoulder. His pulse slowed right down again when she was up against his chest.

She spooned behind him as they went to sleep, her stomach up against his lower back, her breath against the nape of his neck. Mark tangled his fingers in hers and fell asleep faster than he had in ages. He awoke a couple of times during the night and couldn't resist watching Denise's fluttering eyelids, wondering what she was dreaming about.

He lay awake beside her still form for at least an hour around 2 a.m., contemplating whether he wanted to pick up everything and shift back home just to be with her. There was also the added bonus of being back near his family and friends, but what if he made that big move and things didn't work out between them? He would again be reminded of her everywhere he turned.

Mark's restless night resulted in him sleeping in later than he'd planned, and he only awoke around 8:30 a.m. to the smell of breakfast on the stove.

Shit, her bus's at 11:30, he thought, scrambling out of bed. He quickly showered and made his way into the kitchen, where Denise greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a lingering hug.

"Rough night?" she asked.

"A little," he said, holding her close for a moment before retrieving a mug from the cupboard.

"I'm sorry if I was the cause of that," she said. Mark weighed whether he'd ever be able to keep a secret again if he made her a part of his life. He still had no idea what to do when they sat quietly at the Sudbury bus terminal a couple of hours later.

"Mark," Denise started, "Thanks for having me over this weekend. You didn't even have to stay friends with me all this time but you did anyway becau--"

"Denise," Mark leaned close to her, "you don't have to explain or apologise. I loved seeing you again." They fell back into the silence that Denise didn't know how to interpret. He tightly held her hand right up until the bus approached, then kissed her on the forehead before she boarded.

Denise looked wistfully out the tinted window at Mark, whom she knew would stand there until the bus pulled away. When it finally did, she gave him a last wave goodbye. Then she unzipped her bag, pulled out Mark's t-shirt she fell asleep in last night, and buried her face in it as she burst into tears.