Love Untrusted
Tressie Lockwood
Contents
Also by Tressie Lockwood
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
About the Author
Also by Tressie Lockwood
Love Untrusted
Copyright © January 2017, Tressie Lockwood
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No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express written permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
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This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story line are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.
Also by Tressie Lockwood
For Other Clean Works Try:
* * *
The Sartoris
Accepting His Name
Raising His Baby
Reaching His Heart
* * *
Standalone
Involuntary Daddy
* * *
For Hotter Works Try:
* * *
The Marquette Family Series
* * *
Creed
Damen
Stefan
Duke
* * *
www.tressielockwood.com
Chapter 1
The alarm went off on Miguel’s phone, but he was already awake, his arms behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He willed himself to hit the button but didn’t move. What was this lack of motivation in him lately? No, it was more like discontent. He felt restless, but he wasn’t sure where it was coming from. One would think with the dangers of his job and the challenges it brought, there wouldn’t be room for feeling the way he did.
“Vas a apagar eso?” came the throaty voice next to him.
He sighed and reached over to stab the button. The room plunged into silence again. Carmen’s murmur from beneath a pillow reminded him once again of what he’d been thinking about for the last few weeks.
Should he marry her?
The phone rang, and he groaned. He reached for it and pressed the button to mute it. Something stirred in him when he recognized the area code, tightness in his chest and distaste in his mouth. He was used to ignoring numbers that came from Texas despite the fact that the caller was usually just a telemarketer. Regardless, he hated reminders of its existence.
Carmen’s hand snaked out from beneath the covers and touched his bare chest. He moved away and sat on the side of the bed. Running a hand through his hair, he wondered again. Should he marry her? Did he love her? He wasn’t too sure what love felt. Certainly not for a woman—none other than his mother.
Carmen was all right when it came to women. She never nagged. Whenever he told her he needed space, she backed off without an argument. They weren’t full-fledged girlfriend-boyfriend, more like occasional lovers. Yet, he’d kept her around for a few years. She stayed the night sometimes but not often because he preferred total silence in his home.
But you’re thinking of marrying her.
He wasn’t getting any younger, and just like any man he might like kids that would carry on his name. His mom was hinting around that she wanted grandkids. Marriage—it scared him. Then again, going into marriage without heavy emotions might be a good thing.
Carmen grabbed his wrist, her eyes still closed. He stood and strode into the bathroom to study his face in the mirror. His hair stuck up in a buzz cut, but it was getting a little too long.
“I’ll need a ring,” he murmured, and the sour taste in his mouth increased.
“Miguel,” came Carmen’s voice from the other room. “He says he’s your dad.”
Miguel’s stomach dropped. He stomped into the room and glared at her. She sat up in bed, letting the covers slip a little in her distraction, but his agitation didn’t let his body respond as it might have. “Why did you answer my phone?”
She flinched. “Lo siento. He sounds really upset.”
Everything inside Miguel told him to disconnect the call and block the line it had come from. He wasn’t a coward, so he answered. “What do you want?”
“Is that how you talk to your father?”
The scratchy voice that came from years of abuse and ignoring his health was more familiar than Miguel liked. The last time he heard it might as well have been the day before. Thiago sounded like he’d been crying, but Miguel had heard that before as well. Not to mention the slurred speech.
“Come home, Miguel. Come home where you belong.”
Miguel swore. “You call me after all these years and ask me to come back to Texas? It’s not going to happen. I don’t know in which bottle you found the cajones to contact me, but forget it. Goodbye.”
Miguel moved to stab the End button on his phone.
“He’s dead!”
Miguel froze and then raised the phone to his ear. “Qué?”
His father sobbed. “He’s dead, my baby boy is dead. Oh, what will I do, hijo? What will I do?”
Miguel sank onto the bed again and stared down at the floor. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, but they refused to come together so he could understand what he had just heard.
“Miguel?” his dad called over the line.
“You’re saying David is dead?” he breathed. David, his oldest brother, named after his dad, but everyone called him by his middle name. He was fifteen years older than Miguel, but surely not old enough to die.
“It was an accident. He’s gone, and we don’t know what to do.” Thiago had gone back to sobbing. His words switched between English and Spanish. While Miguel spoke both languages fluently, he could hardly make out some of what his dad was saying, including how his brother died. All he understood with clarity was Thiago’s plea over and over for him to come back to Texas, the very last place Miguel wanted to be.
After trying to get a bit more information out of Thiago, Miguel managed to end the call. He set his phone down on the bed and ran a hand over his face. Carmen touched his back.
“What’s going on? Is everything all right?”
He hesitated. “Carmen, I think we should cool off for a while.”
She said nothing, and he twisted to face her. Her expression was blank. He wasn’t surprised. She worked for the department of justice as a budget analyst, whereas he was a U. S. Marshall. She didn’t face criminals as he did, but she saw the guys often enough, men and women hardened from their line of work.
His blurted suggestion was contrary to the way he had been thinking, but she didn’t know that. He figured it was for the best since he didn’t feel for her the way a man should. “I’m going back home for a while, and I’m not sure when I’ll return.”
She lowered her gaze. “Isn’t that a little sudden? Are you taking a leave of absence or something?”
“If I can get it, which I most likely will. My oldest brother died, and my youngest brothers aren’t of age yet.”
She gasped. “I’m sorry. You never talk about your family.”
“Yeah, it’s a long story. I don’t have a choice but to deal with them. It’s better if I don’t leave you with expectations. Let’s end it here.”
“Miguel…” For a moment
, he thought he heard deep emotion in her tone. “You’re probably right. Call me when you get back. If I haven’t moved on, we can do dinner or whatever. We’ll always be friends, right?”
He smiled. “That’s what I always liked about you. You’re easygoing. You’re not like other women.”
She muttered something he didn’t hear clearly, but he had already started to plan the trip home and what he would encounter when he got there. He wasn’t looking forward to it at all.
* * *
Miguel strode along the terminal leading to baggage claim. He checked his phone again. The voicemail from his father said someone named Jasmeka Small would pick him up from the airport. He had no idea who that was but planned to rent a car as soon as possible. He didn’t like depending on anyone for any reason.
After he lifted his suitcase down from the conveyor belt, he swung around to find a woman about five foot four standing before him. African American with shoulder length wavy hair and big almond shaped eyes, she offered him a bright smile and pointed a finger at him. “You’re Miguel Torres, aren’t you? I would recognize you anywhere. Hola. I’m Jasmeka, but you can call me Jas. Everyone does.”
“Hola.” Miguel’s voice came out rougher than he had intended. Sure, he wasn’t in the best of moods, but he hadn’t meant to take it out on her. He let his gaze slip down over her form, big breasts, a petite stature, and curvy body. The Texas sun led her to wear short shorts that showed off thick thighs and exposed a lot of her smooth cocoa skin. He’d been attracted to black women before, finding them incredibly sexy, but Jasmeka took his breath away.
When he couldn’t think of anything else to say because he was busy staring at her, she waited for him to have his fill. That surprised him. He snapped back to himself, amazed that his wandering eyes didn’t tick her off.
“Uh, si, I’m Miguel. You work for Thiago?”
Her eyes widened, and her eyebrows rose. “Wow, you do call him by his name. I’d heard… I’m the cook actually. You’ll be enjoying my delicious food while you’re here. Do you have anything for me to carry?”
She certainly wasn’t shy or modest. He’d give her that. Once more, he swept his gaze over her. There was no way she’d be able to carry his bag, and why would he need her to? She wasn’t much bigger than a preteen. Besides, he had packed his weapon in the bag, and he wouldn’t feel right until he had strapped it on again.
“I have it. Just lead the way.”
She nodded. Miguel paused a moment before moving into position beside her to take in the sway of her hips and the roundness of her rear. He chided himself for a second and then dropped the resistance. Why shouldn’t he look? After all, he and Carmen weren’t together anymore.
And yet I’d been thinking of marrying her. It went to show he knew nothing of love. He dismissed thoughts of his ex-lover and focused on getting through the next few days. With any luck, his brother’s funeral would go without a hitch, and he could settle any other issues quickly.
They reached the pickup that Jasmeka drove to the airport, and he held his hand out to her. “Mind if I drive?”
She blinked at him and then shrugged. Miguel waited for her to climb in on the passenger side of the truck and started the engine. He recalled the route from the airport to his father’s ranch, and it wasn’t more than an hour and a half away.
Jasmeka chattered as if she felt she needed to cover for his silence and his dark mood. He cut across her diatribe to ask what was on his mind ever since he heard the news. “Mind telling me how my brother died?”
His question seemed to startle her, and then huge pools of tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Regret hit him in the chest as she raised a fist to her mouth to press to her lips. Her shoulders shook, and she blinked, trying to clear her vision. He swore and pulled over to the side of the highway.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“No, stop.” She sniffed and held up a hand. “I said I wasn’t going to cry anymore, at least not in front of anyone. This is more your loss than mine, and I’m so sorry, Miguel. David was the most wonderful man in the world, and we’re all going to miss him like crazy.”
He was glad she wasn’t looking his way. Of course he hadn’t seen his brother for over a decade, but he grew up with David. He knew what kind of man he was. Apparently, he and Jasmeka didn’t see David the same way.
“Cry as much as you like,” he said and knew his voice was still too gruff. To distract himself from the awkwardness, he pulled into traffic again. “You seemed to have cared about him a lot.”
Miguel was pretty sure she blushed even though he couldn’t see red in her darker skin. Long lashes covered the expression in her eyes, and something stirred in him. There was no denying the attraction he felt.
“I’ve been working for the Torres family for ten years. They’re all like family. David was the glue that held us together, and the boys are taking it hard. I just want to be here for them as long as they need me.”
“The boys?”
She looked at him like he had a screw loose. “Your little brothers, Antonio and Angel.”
He flushed. “I thought you meant someone else.”
Her expression cleared. “I guess I did make it sound like they were little kids. They’re seventeen now. I can’t believe how time has flown. Before you know it they’ll be out on their own or away at college.” She sniffled. “I think of them like my own little brothers, and I only want the best for them. I’m just glad I have a reason to stay.”
Suspicion rose in Miguel, although he kept it from his expression. “Reason?”
She smiled through the remnants of her tears. Something told him Jasmeka was a naturally happy person no matter the circumstances.
“Like I told you, I’m the cook. Some people assume I’ll be moving on, but Antonio and Angel need me.”
Several prospects of what she might be hinting around at occurred to him, but he placed them at the back of his mind for now. He wanted to learn as much as possible about David’s loss and where that left the rest of them. Miguel tried to convince himself not to give a rip so he could get back to New York, but curiosity had already taken hold.
“Oh, pull in here, Miguel,” Jasmeka called out.
He looked to where she indicated in surprise. They were still miles from the ranch. The strip mall of specialty shops surrounded a larger all-purpose store. Miguel had hardly come to a stop before Jasmeka leaped from the truck to hurry toward the entrance. He followed at a more sedate pace, and before she reached the entrance to the largest store on the block, several people shouted greetings to her, telling her how sorry they were to hear about David.
“I’m going to stop by later, Jas,” one woman said. “The kids are coming too. Should I bring something?”
Jasmeka accepted the woman’s hug and kiss on the cheek. “No, I’ve already got food cooking. On second thought, bring your lemon blueberry cake. Thiago says he has no appetite, but I will get him eating. You watch and see.”
The woman smiled. “I know you will, honey.”
Miguel at last recalled the woman who owned a much smaller ranch about two miles down from his dad’s. He was about to greet her when she hugged Jasmeka again. “Give that to Rosa for me, and I’ll see you later.”
“Will do.” Jasmeka disappeared inside the store, and the neighbor hopped into her pickup to roar off down the road. He stood there confused and frustrated at both women ignoring him.
After he’d gotten his bruised ego under control, he entered the store. More greetings from people who ignored him or didn’t recognize him. Jasmeka seemed to know the entire town of Stump Valley, and all assured her they were going to stop by his father’s ranch some time that day or the next. He came to realize that Jasmeka wanted to stop so she could prepare for all the visitors.
“Are you sure you have enough food?” he said on carrying the tenth bag out to the truck.”
She bit her lip and tapped her chin, not apparently noticing his attitude
. “I think so. I mean I’m not serving a whole meal, more like finger foods. I don’t know how many will stop by and when. For the last two days, we’ve had half the town.”
He blinked in surprise. “Literally?”
“I told you everyone loved David.” She paused in her mad rush for a moment, stopping so close to him he thought he felt the heat and energy off her small body. Something about her drew him, making him want to touch her. He dismissed such inappropriate thoughts as she spoke to him. “What about you?”
“What about me?” He ground his teeth. “Are you asking me if I cared about my brother?”
She waved a hand. “No, I’m sorry. That’s not my business. Let’s go. I know you’re eager to see Thiago and the boys, and they’re eager to see you too.”
Manuel didn’t want to disabuse her of her assumptions. He was sure his family cared nothing about him despite how his father begged him to come home. For his part, he believed his life would be simpler and more fulfilling if he didn’t have to see any other them. However, he had decided to come, so here he was. He would follow it through until the conclusion no matter how uncomfortable he felt.
Chapter 2
Jasmeka had no idea how to take Miguel. She had heard lots about him, of course, both good and bad. Thiago carried a picture of his second son in his wallet, and there were more in the study, the place Aunt Rosa had exiled them to after Miguel abandoned the family. She knew from the pictures Miguel was handsome. He looked a lot like David and their father with the dark hair and intense dark brown, almost black, eyes. Yet, a picture couldn’t do Miguel’s looks justice.
For one thing, he appeared angry and stern. She knew what she had heard of him and what she had observed. Miguel didn’t take crap off anyone. He was tough and strong and opinionated. Jasmeka wasn’t surprised to find he strapped on a sidearm because many people in Texas had licenses to carry concealed weapons. Miguel was a U. S. Marshall, and he screamed authority and sexiness like no other man she had ever met.
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