“Merrrengue!” She rolls her r’s effortlessly.
“I need a partner!” Marigold looks at us. I shrink away as Marigold grabs Rita’s arm. “Arriba, Rita! Arriba!”
“One—two—three, one—two—three,” Rita counts as she dances with her mother.
Standing awkwardly along the wall of the parlor, I catch a side glance of Gabe. I can feel his presence next to me. Is he going to ask me to dance? I can smell his intoxicating elemental masculine scent of clean clothes and chopped wood.
“Amber!” Marigold reaches for me. “Join us!”
“Nuh-uh.” I wave her away. “I’m about as agile as a refrigerator.”
Marigold laughs. “Nonsense! Let me teach you.”
She grabs my arm and pulls me against her. With one hand around my waist and the other one holding mine, Marigold steps back and forth at such a fast pace that it’s impossible to do anything but move with her. “One—two—three, one—two—three.”
I’m tripping over my own feet and stepping on Marigold’s. I look back at Gabe for a sign of rescue but he’s simply grinning and shaking his head.
“Sorry,” he says as if reading my mind. “You’re on your own.”
“It’s all in the hips. Quick, quick, slow. Quick, quick, slow.” Marigold twists me back and forth.
Gabe stifles his laughter.
“You know, I first heard this when I was in the Dominican Republic,” Marigold says, completely unaffected by my lack of coordination. “I was twenty-six, Joaquin was twenty-two. We met on the beach and talked until the sun set. After several piña coladas, we made love—”
Gabe steps forward. “Umm… Marigold? There are children present.”
“Don’t worry.” Marigold smiles. “Rita has heard this story before.”
“Oh boy.”
“It’s true,” Rita says. “Nothing she says can shock me anymore.”
I bite back my laughter as Marigold continues pulling me in different directions. I struggle to keep up, following her steps.
Marigold continues telling the story. “We heard the ocean waves crashing against the shore exactly the way our bodies crashed against each other.”
“What happened to Joaquin? Is he still in the Dominican Republic?”
“Nobody knows. It was a one-time romance that lives forever in my memories. Arrrriba!” She spins me without warning, causing me to nearly trip into the wall.
Gabe finally intervenes, pulling me out of Marigold’s reckless arms to safety. “Let’s try not to scare our guest away.”
“Nonsense!” She grabs Gabe, pulling him into the chaos. “Show me your moves.”
“Yeah, Gabe.” I grin. “Show her your moves.”
A cocky smile forms on his lips as he grabs Marigold by the waist and starts dancing effortlessly to the music. Their steps are so in sync that they move fluidly across the floor. My jaw drops as I stare in awe.
“What?” He asks. “Didn’t expect me to dance like this?”
A knowing smile breaks across his lips.
“I’ve been teaching him,” Marigold says. “And he’s a fast learner. Not bad, huh?”
“Not bad at all,” I mumble under my breath. He’s got better rhythm than Chuck ever did.
“Switch partners!” Marigold releases Gabe and takes Rita into her arms, moving her to the beat.
Gabe stands in front of me. His cheeks are red with heat from dancing. He gives me a lazy smirk. Butterflies flutter in my belly as I wait for him to do something.
Why? Why am I reacting like this? What’s wrong with me?
“It’s okay,” he says. “I understand the effect I have on women.”
“That’s not what I… I wasn’t staring at you because of that!” I lie.
He smirks and I know he can somehow see right through me.
“Ugh, you’re so infuriating.”
He reaches for my hand. “Come on.”
“What are you doing?” I stare at his outstretched hand as if he’s offering me a rat’s head on a stick.
“Isn’t it obvious? Dance with me.”
I shake my head. “Did you not just see me dance with Marigold? I have all the grace of a drunk sorority girl!”
He laughs. “Just work with me. Follow my touch.”
Follow his touch. Okay… whatever that means.
He takes my hand, cradling it gently in his. He places my other hand on his broad shoulder. I swallow. I can practically hear my heart beating in my ears. The strum of a Spanish guitar kicks off a new high-paced song. Without warning, Gabe is touching the small of my back and guiding me back and forth with the beat. I hold onto his steady body, letting his touch tell me what to do. It’s surprisingly easy with him guiding me.
“Adelante!” Marigold yelps. “Adelante! Atrás! You guys are such great dancers!”
Gabe stares down at me and smiles. “You hear that? We’re great dancers. All you had to do was let me take control.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m sure you love taking control, don’t you?”
He smirks.
We continue dancing until the room feels like it’s stifling hot.
“Whew!” Marigold collapses onto the couch. “I need a break.”
“Not me!” Rita continues dancing.
Gabe pulls me closer and whispers into my ear. “Let’s get out of here.”
The heat of his breath sends a tingle down my spine. When he lets go of my waist, I realize just how much of a sweat we worked up.
Making our way out of the parlor, we stumble up the stairs as our laughter echoes off the walls.
“What a workout,” I say. “I’m sweating like a pig.”
“I don’t know why that’s attractive, but it is.”
“Oh, shush.” I nudge him, pushing him in mock annoyance even though it feels good to be flirted with—especially by a cute guy. He grabs my hand. The butterfly touch of his thumb moves up my inner wrist, forcing me to look up into his dark eyes. His fingertips are just as rough as mine. There’s a moment of silence as time stops and we stare at each other. Feeling a bit awkward, I pull my hand away and continue up the stairs.
“Umm… I didn’t realize you were such a fan of Merrrrengue.” I attempt to roll my r’s just like Marigold did but I only half-succeed.
He smirks. “Every time I’d visit this place as a kid Marigold would force me to dance with her. I learned a few things over the years.”
“Well, you’re very good at it.”
“You can be too if you practice.”
“I don’t know… I’ve got other musical ventures that I’d rather spend time pursuing.”
We reach the door to my room. I push the door open. Before stepping inside, I turn around.
“You know, I think I’ll need you if I want to survive living in this place for the foreseeable future.”
He smirks. “I can be your crutch… and your Merengue partner.”
I laugh. “I don’t think so, Joaquin.”
“Hey, Joaquin got lucky, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, but we’re just friends.”
“Friends can’t dance?”
I smile. “Goodnight, Gabe.”
He smirks. “Goodnight, Phoenix.”
I retreat into my room and close the door behind me. My cheeks are burning hot and I know it’s not just from the dancing.
10
HEAT
Amber
As the days go by, I get comfortable doing chores for Marigold and becoming a part of the fabric of this weird three-person community. Well, four now. I’m their “missing piece” according to Marigold. And I can’t disagree. Living with them is way more pleasant than living with Chuck and Bob. Real laundry is way easier to deal with than dirty laundry.
I get along with everyone. Marigold teaches me a few drama tips that she learned during her Shakespeare in the Park days. She teaches me how to command a stage and how to project my voice. And she lets me poke around the collection of costumes she has in her closet. Her costumes range from 1930s cou
ture to 1980s glam rock. It’s awesome. I can’t help but pick out a few pieces and take a few moody pictures of myself with the timer on my camera. They’d be cool covers for future albums. Meanwhile, Rita and I get along because I’m willing to discuss the relationships in whatever romance novel she happens to be reading. Every day it seems like she has questions about why adults do stupid things for love. To be honest, I have the same questions too. Why do we do stupid things for love?
And of course, there’s Gabe. Each day it gets harder and harder to ignore his cute mannerisms—his contagious laugh, his dark eyes, his sinfully delicious dimples. Even though we’re both supposed to be focused on our chores, those curious dark eyes always seem to find me. He’s always finding reasons to run into me and I can’t seem to resist his presence. I let the friendship grow at its own pace—which is insanely fast. Conversation flows easily between us and time seems to slip away when we’re having fun. There’s no pressure when we’re together—no unreasonable expectations. It’s not like it was with Chuck where I always felt like I was tiptoeing around conversational land mines. One wrong step and I’d set him off. Gabe’s not like that. He’s casual and cool… easy-going and easy on the eyes.
Sometimes I’ll catch myself staring out the upstairs bay window, watching him out in the garden as he works on his woodworking project. The meticulous way he works with the fiery-colored wood is hypnotizing. He measures everything twice—checking and double-checking before each cut. I watch his large hands move gently over the wood as if he’s listening to the grain with his fingers. The fact that he’s usually shirtless doesn’t hurt either. Each day out in the sun, his tan becomes darker. The gold hue of his skin reminds me that the summer is continuing forward whether I like it or not. I still haven’t made enough money to get out of here. After working off my rent and food, there’s barely anything leftover for a ride out of here. And I still haven’t been able to convince Gabe to drive me to New York.
As June arrives, so does the summer heat. The temperature is so hot that even Marigold’s thermometer is maxed out. The humidity is a killer and sitting in Marigold’s sweltering ancient wooden house doesn’t make it any better. One morning, we pull the table next to the open parlor doors as we eat breakfast. We’re waiting for a breeze to provide relief from the hot breath of summer humidity but nothing is helping. I’m wearing my thinnest cotton dress, but the white material is still sticking to my skin.
“Amber, can you move a few boxes out of the attic?” Marigold asks from the kitchen. The scent of lemon and sugar wafts from the oven. I’ve learned that Marigold will bake no matter how high the mercury climbs. She insists that baked goods are essential for her midday tea-time.
“The attic?” I ask.
“Some of those boxes are temperature-sensitive and I don’t want them sitting in this heat.”
I look at Gabe with a pained expression. “It’s going to feel like a greenhouse up there.”
“Don’t worry,” he whispers across the table. “I’ll help you.”
I smile.
“Gabe?” Marigold calls out. Her voice is barely louder than the sound of clanking cupcake pans.
He sits up. “Yeah?”
“Can you check the air conditioning unit? The filter must be blocked or something.”
He sighs. “You got it.”
“Thank you!”
He looks back up at me and gives me a sorry shrug. I pretend it’s fine even though I’m dreading the day’s task.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll save you somehow.”
I smile to myself as he slides out of his seat.
After we put the dishes away, I make my way up to the attic where the air is thick and sticky and I instantly feel sweaty. I find the boxes Marigold mentioned and move them into the second-floor parlor. They’re not heavy but going up and down in this heat is exhausting. I take a few moments in the library to stand in front of the open windows. The breeze is barely there but it’s better than nothing. Just as I’m about to head back upstairs, the house creaks as the sound of air conditioning unit rumbles on. The air starts to blow out of the vents throughout the room. I rush over to feel the cool air but all I feel is hot air blowing out of the system. Gabe walks into the parlor and spots me by the vent.
“Is it working?” He walks over to me. I can see that he’s just as drenched in sweat as I am. His damp hair is pushed back and his sleeves are rolled up, showing off his tan and buff shoulders.
“There’s air coming out of it if that counts as working. It still feels like Satan’s breath though.”
He laughs as he puts his hand next to mine and feels the airflow. “That’s fine. It’ll get colder as the day goes on. Come on, help me close the windows.”
Wiping more sweat off my forehead, I drag myself across the room and use the last of my energy to close the windows. The room instantly gets warmer with the windows closed as the air conditioner struggles to cool the air.
“Ugh, I can’t be in this house anymore.” I lean against the window sill. “I need a bath of ice or a freezer to crawl into.”
“You know the shed outside?” He asks.
“Yeah.”
“Meet me there in ten minutes.”
“Umm… why?”
“You’ll see.”
I let out a hesitant laugh. “You want me to go out into the heat when you just fixed the air conditioning?”
“It’ll only be for twenty minutes. Besides, when we get back, it’ll feel extra cool.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’re gonna get me into trouble, aren’t you?”
He smirks. “See you in ten minutes.”
Wiping his brow one last time, he pulls away and I’m left wondering what the hell he has planned. Smiling to myself, I have just enough time to move the last box and freshen up before the ten minutes are up. When I head downstairs, I get stopped by Rita who interrogates me about what I’m doing. When I manage to push her off my trail, I encounter Marigold who wants an update on the attic. When I finally make my way outside, I realize I’m eight minutes late for my secret rendezvous with Gabe.
Secret rendezvous with Gabe.
I don’t know what the hell to expect from him. Is he flirting with me? Or is this just something that friends do? We’re friends, after all… right? Flirting friends, maybe. Nothing more, obviously. I promised myself that I would take a nice long break after the fiasco with Chuck. A steamy interaction with a cute guy is what put me in this mess to begin with. After a disaster like that, it’ll be a while before I trust a guy again… no matter how defined his abs might be.
When I make my way to the cabin, I look around but I don’t see Gabe anywhere. A humid breeze blows past. Even though I just freshened up, I already feel sweaty.
“Gabe?” I ask.
I walk around the back of the cabin. Nobody there. A path behind the cabin leads into the woods. I look around one last time before following the path. The cicadas are buzzing, getting louder with each rising degree. But as I continue down the path, the sound of the cicadas gets drowned out by the sound of rushing water. The trees become more sparse as the shining brilliance of the river comes into view straight ahead. Water has never looked so enticing.
As I look around for Gabe, I spot a white t-shirt and blue jeans hanging from a tree by the shore. Suppressing a smile, I make my way to the edge and look out at the river. There’s Gabe swimming in the river. I can see his tan body as he does the backstroke. Is he… is he naked? I instantly feel like I should turn away but I’m frozen in place watching as he glides through the water.
“Amber!” He calls out.
“What are you doing?” I step up to the shore.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” He smirks, flashing those dimples. His dark eyes pierce mine even though he’s all the way out in the water. “Come join me!”
The water’s surface glitters in the sunlight but I can tell it’s dark and deep. Gabe swims for the shore and climbs out of the water. I get a glimpse o
f his GQ-esque body—his sculpted abs, his meaty thighs. Oh god, why am I even staring like this? I turn away.
“You don’t have to turn away.”
“But… you’re naked.”
“No, I’m not.” He laughs. “I’m wearing my underwear.”
Turning my head, I take a peek. Sure, he’s wearing boxer briefs… but they don’t leave much to the imagination, especially when wet. My eyes slide down his body, noting that he’s tan everywhere. I’m momentarily distracted by the trail of hair leading from his belly button all the way down, down, down… My breath hitches and I look away again, feigning interest in a pine tree nearby.
“Is that a Colorado Spruce?” I ask.
Gabe laughs.
“Come on,” he says. “Swim with me.”
“I don’t have my bathing suit.”
“So? Neither do I.”
I quickly glance at his dripping body before looking away again.
“You can wear your underwear too,” he says. “Unless you’re not wearing any… are you?”
I place my hands on my hips.
“For your information, I am wearing underwear.” I laugh. “Wow. That wasn’t a sentence I expected to say today.”
“So, what’s the problem? Are you shy?”
“No,” I say defensively.
“Good. Then let’s go swimming.”
Keeping his eyes on me, he walks backward toward the water as he gestures for me to follow him.
“Come on,” he says. There’s a cocky smirk on his face. When he reaches the water, he turns around and dives in.
Beads of sweat pour down my back as I watch him swim. I didn’t expect to be faced with this situation today. There’s nothing more I want to do than strip off my clothes and get into that cold water. It’s practically singing my name. But I also didn’t expect to undress in front of Gabe—especially on a sweaty day like today. Ew. Then again, as soon as I’m in the water, it won’t matter. The cold, cold water will provide sweet relief.
“Phoenix!” He calls out, spraying some water in an attempt to splash me. He disappears under the water and pops back up, whipping his head back to get his hair out of his face. “You coming, or what?”
I hesitate a moment. Looking around, I see a rocky protrusion on the shore about ten feet away. Smiling to myself, I call out to him. “Look away.”
Chase: A Secret Millionaire Romance Novel Page 8
