by Ashley Munoz
“I was headed out. I’m happy to help cook anytime you need it…even though I’m not much of one, as you can tell…but I’m actually leaving for the night.”
Juan’s gaze fixated on the plate in front of him.
“Have you had tacos before?” he asked, ignoring me.
I watched as he spread onion and the green-looking leaf around the chicken then grabbed the lime and squeezed it all over.
My stomach grumbled as the smell of the spices and chicken assaulted me.
“I have…but they never looked like this.”
“Eat, then if you still want to go see the dick face, be my guest.” He folded the prepared taco and took a large bite of it.
I wanted to protest, get up, and walk out the front door…but I was only using Holden as a crutch, and it made me fucking weak to admit it, but I knew I should never have opened that door with him in the first place.
Copying what Juan had done, I lifted the taco and took a generous bite. Flavor burst along my tongue as a satisfied moan erupted from inside my throat.
Juan laughed beside me as I took another bite, and then another.
“Slow down, preciosa.” He handed me a glass of water then sipped from his own.
“What did you say just now?” I smiled, trying to breathe between bites. The food was so good, and I hadn’t tasted flavor like that in all my life.
“I called you a cow.”
I rolled my eyes, knowing he was probably telling me the truth.
“Cow or not, this food is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Does your whole family cook like this?”
He smiled down at me again, his bright eyes catching the dimming light of the sun. It was getting later, and I still hadn’t texted Holden.
“My family owns a chain of restaurants. I should act offended that you’ve never been, but the most expensive thing on the menu is steak, which only costs just above twenty bucks. It’s a place for the everyday person, not the one percent.”
The jab landed and unfurled in my heart. He knew nothing of my life or my past…but that didn’t matter. He didn’t need to.
I nodded, sipping more water. “Well, I’d love to go sometime. What’s the name of the restaurant?”
“Especias y Fuego.” He stood and walked to the sink while I sat trying to tame the foreign word with my tongue.
Something niggled at the back of my brain. The sounds together were familiar…
“It means spice and fire,” he added before turning again.
I let the thought go and finished my tacos, walking the plate over to the sink behind him.
“Well, I’ll go sometime and pay my compliments. You could work there—you’re that good of a cook.” I smiled, but the way his face turned solemn told me I’d messed up again.
Not wanting to hear his insults, I spun away from him and started toward the front door.
“You’re still going?” His clipped voice sounded at my back.
“You’re the one who said I should eat and then I could go…” I shrugged, confused about why this bothered him.
“You like the pool?” He changed the subject, and my brows crinkled at the sudden shift.
“Uh…”
He grabbed his keys. “Let’s get you a new suit.”
“I don’t fucking need one. What you did earlier was rude and uncalled for.”
He smirked, which enraged me.
“You do need one. In fact, I’ll get you several if you want.”
I laughed, letting my petulant side flare. “You know who my dad is, right?”
“Stepdad…yeah, I do,” Juan bit out, glaring at me.
“What is your problem with me? I didn’t do anything to you.” I crossed my arms defensively.
“I don’t have a problem with you. In fact, I’m trying to help you.” He let out a laugh that skittered down my spine and made a home in my soul.
“I don’t need your help.”
“You do, preciosa. That’s why you’re here…in my house, because I found you sleeping in a car.”
“Oh my god, I’m not a COW! And I was fine in my car,” I screamed at him, about to pick up a damn photo or vase, fucking something to throw at him. I hated him. “I’m leaving. I’ll be back for my things when I can get Mallory to come with me.” I spun on my heel and opened the door, slamming it shut.
I wasn’t going back that night.
I wouldn’t, not with his infuriating and frustrating mood swings.
Nearly to my car, I heard the door open behind me, which both thrilled me and exasperated me.
I quickened my steps, worried Juan would do something like block my ability to get to my car. I glanced up, seeing him jog down the stairs, bypassing me altogether and heading toward his sports car.
I stopped for a second as I realized he was leaving before I had a chance to.
“Oh no you don’t.” I tugged my door open, hopped inside, and started my engine.
Seeing his taillights flick on, I slammed my foot down on the gas pedal, but he was faster. There was enough room in the circle for two cars to drive side by side, but it narrowed once it straightened into the long drive down to the gate.
His red car moved in front of me and rushed down the road at a hazardous speed. I rolled my eyes, realizing he didn’t care about my rage or my petulant defiance. My chest deflated as I progressed down the road and under the canopy of trees. This was so stupid, this idea that Juan and I could co-exist in the same house.
I tried not to care that he was likely headed to someone’s house, maybe that brunette from the wedding. I hated that I cared, and that he was the only guy who’d ever seemed to make me care about where he went and who he saw or spent his time with.
Right as I rounded the corner on the path, veering for the gate, I saw a flash of red and slammed on my brakes.
Juan’s car was parked parallel in front of the gate, blocking any entrance or exit.
“No.” I breathed out, leaning over my steering wheel.
I was too busy watching the red sports car to realize my passenger door was opening.
“Let’s go, princess.”
Bereft of words, I stared at him. The way his form folded into my car, the way his scent filled up the space, erasing the smell of anyone else…
“Excuse me?” I scoffed, shocked by the fact that he’d just blocked my way out. Internally I smiled at his creativity and that he wasn’t leaving.
“You can turn around right there. If you do it right, you’ll only need a three-point turn. If you don’t, it’ll be more like a fifteen-point turn.”
I stared at him.
“Need me to drive?”
Breathing through my nose and not in the mood to deal with him any longer, I cranked my wheel and began the drive back up to the house.
“So, you’re not going to talk to me for the rest of the night?” Juan asked as I parked and slammed the car door shut.
“Why would you want me to?” I opened the door and tried to slam it shut, but he was right on my heels.
“You don’t know anything about what I want,” he muttered, following me up the stairs.
“Well, I guess not.” I veered toward my room, and right as I was about to shut my door, he braced his hands on either side of the frame.
“I was two seconds away from fucking you today,” he said with a sharp bite.
“What?” I whirled, my hair flying like a sheet in the wind.
He stepped inside my room, forcing me to back up a step.
“The way you looked in that bathing suit…the way your tits strained against the material, the way it rode up, right here.” He carefully leaned forward until his finger traced over the outside of my mound, flaring to my hip.
I breathed through my nose at how close he’d gotten.
“That with your hair…” He tugged on a piece. “You can’t wear shit like that around me, Taylor. You might think I don’t care or I’m not attracted to you…but I promise you, it’s quite the opposite.” He watched
me with those whiskey eyes. I wanted him to step closer, press his lips to mine, claim something that he already seemed to possess. “Eres peligrosa para mi corazón,” he whispered in a cadence that washed over me in a way that tugged at the strings of my heart.
I closed my eyes, committing the beautiful words to my heart, even if they meant I was a fat cow again. Something told me they were sweet words, ones he wouldn’t be ready to say in English, which only made me crave the translation.
“Get into your pajamas and then come downstairs. Let’s watch a movie.”
He turned before I could say a single word or ask him why. I did as he said, hesitating only briefly over a pair of small sleep shorts and a tank that would show off my stomach and cleavage. He’d pushed me today when I made him feel out of control. While that wasn’t my issue, I didn’t have the energy to push him any further today.
Tugging on a pair of baggy sweats and an oversized shirt, I left my phone behind as I headed downstairs.
Chapter Twelve
“Where have you been?” yelled my best friend Mallory as she lifted two iced coffees into the air. Her bright smile widened, and I knew her green eyes were animated as she looked over the house at my back.
“Me? I’m not the one who moved to New York, got married, and took over a company all within the last six months,” I joked, pulling her into a hug as she made her way up the last few steps.
“I have called, texted, and even tried to FaceTime you the last time I was in Rake Forge. I come pretty often, actually,” she argued, following me into the house.
I laughed, feeling my chest loosen at being in her presence again. Mallory Shaw and I met our sophomore year of college in a class neither of us took seriously or wanted to be in. We ended up playing tic-tac-toe, table football, and even hangman during each class, until I convinced her to let me have coffee with her every Saturday. It wasn’t that she wasn’t stunning, because she was. She was in a league of her own with her snarky comebacks, russet curls, and those curves that should have driven me crazy, along with every other guy, but it was never anything but platonic between us. She felt like a sister to me, a long-lost, adopted sister who was always meant to be in my life.
“How’s Decker?” I asked, opening the patio doors and smiling at her gaping mouth. I’d missed her reaction to the house because I was in front of her, but seeing her freak out over this place was as fun as seeing our friend Hillary freak out over it. Our trio was split up for now, but I had high hopes of getting our little band back together.
“He’s good. He’s actually spending time with my dad today…fixing cars or something like that.” She set the coffees down and settled her hands on her hips as she glanced across the kidney-shaped pool. Green grass stretched past the moon white patio until it dipped down a large hill where an orchard of citrus trees swallowed it.
“Juan, explain this to me…” She jutted her hands out.
I shrugged, chafing at the fact that I hadn’t ever shared this part of my past with her.
“Signing bonus from the Hornets.”
“Taylor said you weren’t on the team anymore.” She flicked her dark shades up until they rested on her head.
I shrugged again, grabbing for the coffee she’d brought for me. I pushed down the urge to reflect on the fact that Taylor had talked about me. I knew she would since she lived here, but I wanted to know what she’d said. Was there anything else she’d asked? How frequently did she bring me up?
“What happened?”
“Just a misunderstanding. Nothing I can’t fix. I got to keep the bonus though…” This was true, but it wasn’t nearly as big as I was making it sound—not big enough to secure or keep a place like this.
“What will you do now?” Mallory gently inquired, stretching into one of the lounge chairs.
“I’m keeping busy…going back to RFU actually as a TA, just for now.” I rubbed my neck, feeling oddly embarrassed.
Mallory tilted her head to the side. “For now?”
I sipped the coffee, hating that she’d gotten mine like hers. She knew I hated all the sugary shit she liked. I took mine black with a splash of milk, that was it.
“Yeah…I mean, I have to make a decision soon regarding hockey. I can sign on with other teams, out of the area.”
“What’s wrong with this area?” she asked in her reporter tone, and fuck, if my best friend caught wind of my family, I would be screwed. She worked for an international paper that worked tirelessly to seek out social justice. She’d rip my entire family to pieces if she knew what I was tied to.
“Nothing, just…might be time for a change…” I trailed off.
“Right,” she murmured, like she didn’t believe me, and I wasn’t sure why she wouldn’t.
“So, what’s going on with you and my sister?” She sipped from her pink straw.
I had nearly forgotten about the little sisterly come-to-Jesus meeting where they overcame the term ‘step’ when referring to each other as siblings.
“She’s a temporary roommate.”
“Paying rent?” Mallory’s dark eyebrow rose in question.
I almost laughed, just thinking of Taylor trying to offer it. I knew she probably would, but our tentative truce would likely implode if she did. I thought over the last week that she’d been here, starting with our explosive beginning where we couldn’t seem to not want to hate-fuck each other every five seconds, and sadly how it had cooled and waned into a tentative lukewarm existence. She came and went to school without making a fuss. If she’d stepped foot in the pool again, it had been while I wasn’t home. She had made a few meals on her own, leaving leftovers in the fridge, cleaning every single scrap of proof that she was ever there. The only reprieve from her silent, mouselike existence was when she’d come downstairs in her pajamas with a leatherbound book in her hand. I’d turn off the hockey highlights and turn on something for us to watch. She loved anything that had to do with history, whether historically accurate or not.
“She might be…we haven’t discussed it yet.”
“Cut the crap.” Mal spun on her ass, sitting up to face me. “What is going on with you two? Why is she here?”
“Nothing is going on.” I peeked over her shoulder at the pool, wondering if Taylor had mentioned what had happened. “She’s here because I caught her sleeping in her car on campus.”
“What?” my best friend yelled, confirming that Taylor hadn’t told anyone about her little homeless situation.
“I guess she couldn’t find a place or something.” I shrugged, not really caring why Taylor didn’t have a place to go, only that now she slept here every night and woke up here every morning. Not that I necessarily wanted her to…the knowledge just sort of sat inside my chest uselessly, right next to my black heart.
Mallory’s face softened, the fire in her eyes simmering a fraction. “Well, thank you…I have no idea what in the world caused her to sleep in her car of all places. She could easily go to a hotel.”
“I don’t know either…something about parking at the school.”
“Has she told you about the father yet?” Mal asked in that same reporter voice.
I hated this question. I didn’t know why I hated it so much, or why the idea of Holden’s hands on Taylor’s body made an ice storm form in my chest cavity, but it did. Seeing them together in the hall the other week, knowing she wanted to go see him wearing that scrap of fabric she called a dress, especially right after I had seen her saunter toward me completely naked from the pool…
Fuck.
Pregnant or not, her body was pure temptation. I wanted to claim her, grab her by the hips, and let her know what seeing her in that tiny black bikini did to me. Never in my life had I been that hard in such a short amount of time. I saw her lying on that pool lounger, her tits pushed together, tan and glistening with sweat, and those bottoms…just a fucking string. Smooth skin greeted me, a tiny tantalizing fantasy just waiting for me to succumb.
I cleared my throat, rememberin
g Mallory’s question. “Holden, right?”
A huff of air left Mal’s chest. “Yeah…such a loser. I’m so frustrated on her behalf. She just needs some place to lie low and build the confidence to be a mom. I know she’ll move back to be near Dad’s once she gets close to delivering, but her having a safe place to be right now means so much to me. Thank you, Juan.” She stood and leaned over, kissing me on the head. “But if you try to sleep with her or break her heart, I’ll totally force Decker to kick your ass.”
I laughed, because Decker was a good guy, and even if he wanted to kick my ass, I knew he wouldn’t. I also knew he couldn’t. Mallory, however, probably could…the girl was scary as hell.
“Got it, M.” I hugged her, forcing images of Taylor in my house, holding a new baby out of my head.
“Let’s go FaceTime Hillary and meet her new girlfriend.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
Shaking my head, I laughed. “No, I don’t want to—they’re always so mean.”
Mal slung her arm over my shoulder and tossed her coffee cup. “Show me the rest of your house first.”
It was nearly dark when I padded up the stairs to check on Taylor. I kept thinking she’d come down for our nightly routine, but she never did. I contemplated just staying put, keeping the sports highlights on, letting her do her own thing, and, more importantly, not giving in to how comfortable it had become to have her with me every night. I would have been lying if I said I didn’t look forward to spending each evening with her, learning new little things about this woman who’d been stuck in my mind for too long. I realized she loved history books, the ones mostly about America. She had a huge heart and a lot of opinions about the early days of our country, and I loved hearing them. Sometimes she’d talk, not realizing I was there listening to every word, absorbing her and all the tiny pieces of what made her unique. She didn’t like scary movies, nothing with a sad ending, unless it was historical. She loved food and eagerly helped me if I was cooking. Even if she wasn’t sure what to do or how to do it, she would get up and offer to chop or dice. So, with her absence, it just felt empty…and then there was that part of my chest that began to fill with worry.
