Taking A Chance_Delos Series_Book 7B1

by Lindsay McKenna

  “That’s what I thought,” he rasped. Reaching out, he picked up her hand that was resting on her thigh, squeezed it gently, and then released it. “Even warriors get worn out. We’re at the stage in our lives, whether we’re in the military or not, when we look back and decide to make better decisions for ourselves now and in the future.”

  Her hand tingled wildly, pleasantly, with his roughened fingers sliding over hers in that unexpected caress. Oh! How she dreamed of kissing Ram again! His mouth was beautiful, strong, and well-shaped—perfect for her to trace with her own lips. Pushing those torrid thoughts aside, she said, “You know, I’m tired. I could use a rest. Looking back on it, I’m glad the CIA canned me. It was a gift in disguise.” She saw a smile lurk at the corners of his generous mouth. “And you were an even greater gift to me when you came back here to be with Cara and make her feel safe.”

  “Do you mean that I’m a gift to you, too?” he teased.

  She laughed. “Oh, you know you are, Torres. You’ve had too much experience with women not to know that.”

  Chuckling, he said, “Caught. And guilty. But I’m not sorry one bit, mi princesa . . . ”

  CHAPTER 9

  November 20

  Tucson, AZ

  Ali’s heart was heavy. Ram was leaving late this afternoon for Artemis, and she felt as though she was being torn in half. Could he have become her second half, even at this stage? She vividly remembered the kiss they’d shared during the mission in Mexico. It was never far away from her. She wanted to kiss him again—and again.

  As she puttered around in the kitchen after breakfast, cleaning up the area, she heard Tyler Hutton laughing with Cara out on the back porch. There was a nice, large swing on it and although the late-November temperature was in the sixties, she’d seen Cara bundled up in a colorful red, blue, and yellow sweater she’d knitted for herself. She had been walking out the back door with Tyler earlier.

  At least that was going okay, and for that she was grateful. Her parents were at work, the house peaceful and quiet as she continued to wipe down the counter.

  “Want some help?”

  Turning, she saw Ram coming out of the hall from his bedroom. He’d been packing earlier after breakfast. How masculine and sexy he looked in a simple pair of jeans, a dark brown t-shirt stretched across that chest of his, and his sneakers. He worked out every day at a nearby gym for at least an hour.

  “Thanks, but no, I’m almost done,” she replied lightly, trying to hide her sadness at his departure.

  He grunted, sauntering over to the coffee maker. “Want a cup? When you’re finished, why don’t you join me in the garage?”

  She smiled. “Garage” was a code word for them now, their secret hideaway from everyone else, where they could truly talk openly with one another in private. “Sure,” she said.

  “Good. See you there.”

  “Okay.” Her heart began a slow pound. Since their talk almost a week ago on their horseback ride and picnic in Cottonwood Canyon, their intimacy and openness with one another had grown in leaps and bounds. She was almost breathless with her desire to advance their relationship from friends to lovers.

  She heard Ram leave with two cups of coffee in his hands and smiled a little to herself. He’d been incredibly thoughtful since his arrival at her parents’ home five weeks ago. Every day, it seemed, Ram looked for little ways to show her he cared for her. And she knew it was more than just friendship blossoming between them now. The looks he sometimes gave her made her lower body burn with hunger. She’d not had sex in two years and whether he knew it or not, he was waging a campaign to get her into his bed, get inside her right where he knew she wanted him. Ram never flirted with her and she could see that he was trying to maintain certain decorum with her, giving her plenty of room to respond to him if she wanted to. And if she didn’t, he never pushed on that boundary with her.

  So far, Ali had not given him those kinds of signals, but sexual frustration was building rapidly within her. Even though her dreams were torrid, and she’d wake up in the middle of the night, aching to be in Ram’s arms, she would lie there in her own sweat, her heart pounding, feeling trapped, unable to escape.

  There was no way she was going to have sex with this man under her parents’ roof. That just wasn’t going to happen. She knew they would feel insulted, and she would never break her moral responsibility to her family with such a selfish act. Whatever was escalating between her and Ram was going to have to wait.

  Hurrying to the garage, she saw Ram sitting on his stool at his workbench. As usual, her stool was standing a few feet away from his. She smiled at him as she quietly shut the door.

  “I heard Cara laughing earlier,” Ram said, nudging the coffee cup in her direction after she sat down.

  “Yes, so did I. First time I’ve heard her laugh since she got home. What a great sound—I was so relieved!” Ali confided. She sipped the coffee and noted Ram’s relaxed expression. There was something beneath one of his rags he used when he was working in the garage. It was pretty large and she wondered what it was.

  “Do you think that’s a good sign?” Ram wondered.

  “I do. Tyler is fitting in with my parents and with Cara really well. He was always a nice dude, and that hasn’t changed about him.”

  “Mmm, the medic personality,” Ram agreed wryly, sipping his coffee. “I knew he’d be a good fit with your family, to tell you the truth. Tyler is one of those people who makes friends, not enemies.”

  “I believe you. Most men couldn’t take Cara’s ups and downs day in and day out. She can’t help it, but it’s wearing out everyone around her.”

  “She knows that,” Ram said, “and that’s why she stays alone in her bedroom so much. She hides to protect others from herself and those sudden moods that come over her.” We know how gut wrenching they can be: scream or cry. Which is it?” He grimaced and shook his head.

  “Well, we’re a little guilty of that ourselves.” Ali gave him a half smile, looking around the neatly kept garage. Since Ram had arrived, he’d cleaned up her father’s messy garage, fixed everything that needed fixing, and organized the place so it looked brand new. He’d also done a lot of what Ali called “quiet work” inside and outside the house, and even helped her weed her mother’s garden sometimes.

  “Yeah, but we know when we’re hitting that internal wall, that anxiety ramping up in us, the best thing we can do is go away for a while.” He grinned. “Your father’s garage has been a godsend for me. I’ve really enjoyed being with him, helping with some of the tasks he hasn’t got time to get to. You’re lucky to have him as a father.”

  “Well, Papa is so grateful to you, too, Ram. He works so hard at the farm and by the time he gets home at six, he’s got no energy left over to come out here and clean things up. I know he’s indebted to you.”

  “I’m glad I could do it for him.” Ram held up his hands. “And I think I’ve fixed everything he wanted to do around here, but didn’t have time for.”

  “Torres, you’ve done so much more than that for all of us. Most important, you gave Cara the stability she needed this first month since returning from her imprisonment. That’s helped her more than anything to get on stronger footing. We’re all appreciative.”

  “Cara’s still afraid that the drug lord and his soldiers are going to come in here and drag her off to Mexico again,” Ram confided.

  “I know,” Ali said sadly, frowning. “I’m hoping Tyler can help her remove that fear, and get her to start walking outside so she can start reclaiming her life. She told me last week that she really missed teaching kindergarten, and I feel that’s a healthy sign. But she still has to have someone around who can keep guiding her and restoring her self-confidence so she can return to teaching.”

  “I bet Tyler will do it,” Ram replied. “Look, he was a SEAL, Ali. You know how stubborn and enduring we are.” He flashed her a warm look.

  “You’re right. You are all like that. But Cara doesn’t know it
.”

  “No, but Tyler is black ops so he’ll figure Cara out, get under the armor plate she’s got in place, and gently get her to go into a healthier direction. It’ll take time, but he’s a very patient man—umm, like me.”

  Her eyes gleamed. “Are you referring to me by any chance? Sounds like it!” Her lips twitched as she saw Ram’s boyish grin appear. She loved these times with him since Cottonwood Canyon. His impulse to reveal some of his private feelings seemed to have triggered a bubbling intimacy that was just waiting to blossom between them.

  “Caught. Again,” he laughed. He set his cup down and picked up the rag that had been thrown over the object sitting on the workshop counter in front of him. “Here. This is a going-away gift I made for you. I’m sorry it’s not wrapped in a pretty package, but I just got it finished last night.” He set it down in front of her. “I guess the wrapping sort of symbolizes me, Ali. Plain and worn. But it doesn’t take away from the gift I made for you. Okay?” He grew somber, searching her eyes.

  Touched, she replied, “Ram, there’s nothing plain or ordinary about you.”

  “Is that your opinion?” he prodded.

  “Yes, it is.” Ali felt her heart pound over the gift. “Can I open it?”

  “Sure, go ahead. I hope you like it. I’ve been working on it ever since I arrived here.”

  Surprised, she tilted her head. “What! Out here in the garage?”

  “Yeah,” he chuckled, “away from your black-ops, prying eyes. It was the only place I could find that you wouldn’t suddenly walk up to me and see what it was.”

  Laughing, she cupped the covered gift, placing it in front of her. “You didn’t have to do this, Ram.”

  “I wanted to. Go ahead, take the cloth off it. See if you like it.”

  The gift beneath the cloth was about six inches high and almost twelve inches long. Ali had no idea what it was. “Okay,” she said, giving him a tender look of thanks.

  And then, she pulled the cloth away and gasped. Her eyes grew wide as she gazed upon a carved horse created out of slices of dried saguaro cactus ribs glued together with one another. “Oh, Ram!” she breathed as she delicately touched the horse standing on all four legs, its head lifted and tail swishing, looking at something in the distance. The ribs were all different colors, from wheat, to caramel, to white, depending upon the age of the wood that had dried long ago out on the Sonoran Desert surrounding them.

  “This . . . this is so beautiful, Ram.” Cupping the statue, she whispered, “You made this? Do you carve, too?” She saw his cheeks grow flush, as if her lavish praise was completely unexpected. That endeared Ram to her as nothing else ever would.

  In some ways, he was so damned confident and in other ways, completely unsure of himself.

  “I’ve whittled wood since I was seven or eight. One of the cooks where I lived, an African-American named Joshua, taught me how to use a Buck Knife to create carvings.” Ram gave the horse a fond look. “I spent a lot of time with Joshua in the kitchen. He was a gentle man with a huge, sparkling smile and his eyes always danced with light. I never forgot those things about him. He was a kind and caring man.”

  Stilling, Ali heard the deep emotion in Ram’s low tone, saw more sadness in his eyes. “Are you still in touch with him?”

  “No, he left his job as a cook when I was twelve. He was bringing a cart of food to the hotel, and a bunch of Mexican drug soldiers jumped him, took the cart, and then shot him. Luckily, he lived, but when he got out of the hospital, he left town and went back across the border to the US. I didn’t blame him.” Grimly, he held her shocked stare. “Nogales, Mexico, when I was growing up, was like Dodge City. Now, it’s a war zone between rival drug cartels.” Gesturing toward the horse, he said, “So, a lot of Joshua is in that carving. He taught me to use all kinds of wood.”

  Trying to pull herself out of her grief because clearly, Ram had lost a second person he loved, just as he’d lost Mazzie, she choked out, “These are saguaro ribs, aren’t they?” She ran her fingers lightly across the sanded, polished, and then varnished wood. It was velvet to the touch, warm with life and Ram had made it just for her.

  Ali was so overwhelmed with emotion that she needed to feel Ram close to her, to have his arms slide around her once again. He’d held her so tenderly when she’d sobbed that day, and she had never forgotten it.

  She met his eyes and found there a blazing desire that was purely male, immediate, and powerful. She swallowed convulsively, her finger lightly tracing each of the horse’s delicate, fine wooden legs. That beautiful, searching kiss he’d given her so long ago made her whole body burn with anticipation and need. It was tough to think right now, much less carry on a half-decent conversation with him.

  “Yes, it is. Your father had a bunch of leftover ribs from making a tabletop over there.” He pointed to the wall where they sat in a neat pile. “I asked him if I could use some of them and told him what I wanted to do. He was all for it and told me to take anything I needed.”

  “So Papa knew, huh?”

  “Men can keep secrets too, you know.” A sly grin edged his mouth as he held her gaze. “Do you like it, Ali?

  “I love it!” she gushed, her voice suddenly quavering. “This means so much to me! I love horses. And this reminds me of our ride into Cottonwood Canyon, our picnic together—good times, Ram. Thank you for this unbelievable gift.” She pressed it gently against her heart. “I’ll ALWAYS cherish this.”

  “Will you put it up on your shelf with your other horses?” he wondered.

  “Better believe it! I’ll put it in a special place where I can always see it.”

  “That’s nice to know.”

  She grew sad, continuing to stroke the wood. “I’m going to miss you terribly, Ram.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to miss you just as much.” He shrugged. “If all goes well, I’ll pick you up at Reagan National Airport in three weeks. You’ll sail through those employee interviews and find yourself with a job at Artemis alongside me.”

  “I know,” she murmured, gazing adoringly at the beautifully carved, wooden horse. “This garage will never be the same for me ever again.”

  “How so?”

  “I know I’ve always been sensitive about you being over-protective of me. But it was sure nice to have you wrap your arms around me and hold me when I needed to cry so badly that one day.” Her voice lowered. “It was exactly what I needed, Ram. I never told you how I felt, and you needed to hear it from me. Your holding me made me feel better, feel hope again despite everything that was going on with Cara. You gave to me, you didn’t take, Ram. It meant so much, you’ll never know . . . ” She gulped, feeling tears forming.

  At that moment, Ali felt her life shift into a new direction and it startled her, but it didn’t scare her. Ram was studying her with a poignant look and she swore he was embracing her right now, giving her comfort for their coming separation.

  “I like what we have, Aliyana. I like hearing you think out loud, and then share how you really feel with me.” He opened his hands, his voice growing gruff. “I knew you needed to cry so badly that day. You’d held those tears within you for far too long. I could feel you hurting. I guess I overcame my own fear of rejection by you because I was hurting for you in that moment. I wasn’t at all sure what you’d do if I tried to hold you. I was terrified.” He managed a half smile.

  “But I went ahead and did it, anyway. I risked everything to help you, Ali, and you accepted my gesture.” He shook his head, giving her a rueful look. “You’re a powerful, competent woman and I know you can take care of yourself without me around. But my heart,” and he touched his chest, “told me how deep your pain was, and I had to help you. That’s the only way I can put it into words, so thank you for telling me this. It makes me stop questioning my actions toward you. The next time I ever feel that need to be held around you, I’m going to hold you—so get ready for it. If you push me away, I’ll respect your decision. But if you don’t, I’m going to hold
you, give you whatever is left of my heart, and give you what you need. You are—and will always be—mi princesa.”

  CHAPTER 10

  November 20

  Tucson, AZ

  Ali placed the carved horse up in the center of the second shelf above her bed, the place of honor. He was definitely her favorite. The best part was that Ram had signed his name on the horse’s belly. She smiled at that, as if he had branded it and her at the same time. Unable to push away the allure of those dark-green eyes radiating his burning physical need for her, she’d felt shaky and unsure what to do next. No man had ever made her quiver with anticipation before—but Ram had.

  Now, he was busy packing in his room, and she had closed the door to her bedroom, needing time to think clearly. She kept running over his story about how Joshua, a cook, had taught him to carve as a young boy. Where the hell was his father? What was going on here? His mother had seemingly abandoned or neglected him, and a woman named Mazzie had become his surrogate mother, instead. Joshua seemed to have replaced his missing father. And Ram had lived in a hotel growing up—what kind of family lives in a hotel?

  She knew it was located in Nogales, Mexico, which was a border town and generally a very poor area. As a Tucson native, Ali had been in Nogales, Arizona and the sister city right across the border, Nogales, Mexico, often. While there were a few nice areas, the Mexican Nogales had turned into a city attracting hopeful illegals wanting to steal into the US. The coyotes who were willing to fleece these immigrants seeking freedom from Central and South American poverty took their money and dropped them in the Sonoran desert, leaving them to survive on their own meager resources. Many died of heat exposure and dehydration. And then there were those dark beings, the drug dealers, and the worst vermin of all who infested both cities like an epidemic.