by Blair Grey
Garrett laughed and I looked at him, happy to see Sandra coming up behind him. She waved at me. “Good news, we’ve got the approval to go ahead with the deal.”
“Welcome to D.C.,” I greeted the men. “Looks like you two are going to be our guests for the next few months.”
Sandra’s eyes were on Garrett. “Glad you’re going to be staying. I’m ex-Navy just like you.”
Cutting his eyes to Clyde, he excused himself. “I’ll see you later, man. Seems Sandra here and I have some catching up to do.”
Clyde nodded as I watched Sandra smile like she’d just won the lottery. “Come on, Garrett, let’s play some pool.”
“So, the squid kind of cut you off about your family, Tequila.” Clyde put his hand near mine as we both had them resting on the bar. “As I said, it must’ve been rough on you and your parents when that happened to your sister.”
“My father died when I was small. KIA. Mom married – of all things – a Navy man a few years later. She and he had my brother and then my sister. Her death affected us all. Her father took it the worst.” The tragedy that kept coming to my family in waves with what had happened to my sister still made me sick to my stomach. “It was his state of mind that had him losing his life in a car accident only three months after her death.”
“With Garrett’s tragic story, it made it where you didn’t get to say if your sister’s death was intentional or not.” He moved his hand over mine as he looked into my eyes.
I didn’t often talk about her. I knew I had to though. “She was only twenty. It was the night before her twenty-first birthday. She and her friends did some coke, some smack, drank copious amounts of liquor, then she decided to try heroin for the first time too. Accident? You tell me.”
“I see.” He looked down; his empathy evident. “Telling you that I’m sorry doesn’t cut it. To be so torn down that she would take all that says she was hurting very badly.”
“Yes, she was. And all because of careless actions that could’ve been prevented so easily too.” I hated the man who’d hurt my baby sister. He’d done so much damage that it ended – not only her life – but my stepfather’s as well. Plus, it put the remainder of my family into a tailspin that took years to come out of. “But like all things that nearly kill you, I came out stronger and so did the rest of my family.”
“Good.” He seemed happy as he smiled.
Glad someone can smile about the tragedy.
Chapter Five
Clyde
By the look on Tequila’s face, I knew there was no right thing to say after someone tells you that anyone they knew or cared about had passed on. I pulled the beer bottle to my lips. Some time needed to pass as what I’d said sat like a brick on top of our conversation.
One little word was all it took to shut things down with the woman I’d thought I had a chance at getting to know a bit better. Now I knew that I’d be in town for several months and I’d shot down my best chance with the best-looking female I’d seen in quite some time - with one damn word.
“Do you like Mediterranean food?”
Looking at her to be sure she was the one who had spoken, I found her dark eyes on mine. She had decided to speak again, so I wasn’t going to wait around with my answer. And it would be a slightly dishonest one, but I figured if I told her the truth it might make for another bout of silence. “Yes.”
“Oh,” she nearly whispered. “Too bad.”
“Too bad?” This chick was more than a little confusing. “Do you like Mediterranean food?”
“Not really.” Her lips pulled into a partial smile.
“May I ask why you would ask me if I liked it then?” She really had me going. I wasn’t sure which way that was - but she had me going.
“There’s a restaurant nearby with that kind of food.” She put the glass of nearly empty Scotch to her mouth.
I had no idea where she was going with the line of conversation. So, I switched it up and led it. “Tell me what your favorite type of food is, Tequila.”
“Mexican.” Her smile lit my heart up. “And nothing they have around here either. Mom makes it pretty good. Not as good as they do in the small cafes down in South Texas, but good.”
“Are you free for the next few hours?” I had an idea that I thought might show her that I was the bomb dot com.
“Not really. I’ve got to be home in a couple of hours.”
Well, shit.
Mulling over what else I could do, I let her know what I had wanted to ask her. “There’s this little place in Baltimore. A young couple opened it only about a year ago. They’re from someplace in Texas called, Alice. I’m not sure what part of Texas that is, south, north, east, west, whatever, but the food they make tastes nothing like any Mexican food I’ve ever eaten.”
“You wanted to take me there?”
“I did. But I know it’ll take longer than a couple of hours to get there, eat, then grab my things so I can stay up here for a few months.” Chewing on my lower lip, I tried to think of where else I could take her to eat.
“I’ll make a call and we can leave right after that.” She hopped off the barstool, then nearly ran to the back of the bar.
“So, we’re going to Baltimore?” I had to ask because I just wasn’t sure.
“Yes, we are.” She stopped at the table Sandra and Garrett sat at. “You’re going too. We’re going to Baltimore to eat what sounds like authentic Mexican food, Sandra.”
Garrett fist-bumped the air as he smiled, then pointed at me while mouthing, ‘You the man!’
I suppose I was the man. I had caught on to the desire Tequila had for some good food and delved into my brain to find her some. I am a freaking hero is what I am!
Fifteen minutes later the four of us were in Tequila’s Ford SUV, heading to Baltimore as she drove. “We can pick up your things while we’re in Baltimore, guys. There’s plenty of room in the back of this beast.”
Looking all the way back from my position in the front passenger seat, I saw a whole other row of seats behind the row Sandra and Garrett sat in. And behind the third row of seats was a large empty area the size of a truck bed. “Yep, I think Garrett and I can pack a few bags in the back.”
“Bitchin’,” Garrett said as he held up his fist for me to bump it. ‘Knucks, bro.”
Giving him a fist-bump, I caught Tequila grinning. “What?”
“You two are cute.”
I didn’t mind her thinking that about me at all. “So are you two.”
Her brow furrowed as she glanced back at Sandra who looked a little confused as well. “Huh?”
“Never mind.” I wasn’t any good at returning compliments. “I’m just really glad that you two came with us, that’s all.”
“You came with me,” she corrected me. “You invited me to go eat with you. But I am taking you. So, technically…”
I put one finger to her lips. “You’re just about as bad at this as I am.” If we’d been alone and if this had been our third date, instead of our first, I would’ve just kissed her to shut her up. “Let’s listen to some music.”
With a nod, she turned on the stereo which blasted some horrifying rap-crap. Which she quickly changed. “Ugh, Tommy.”
With no idea who Tommy was, I didn’t care enough to make her turn down the music she did find and had turned up. With light traffic, we had a nice drive down MD 295.
I never had much trouble making friends, but Tequila and I were getting along pretty damn easily. She drove as I pointed the way to the small café that was painted yellow with green trim and had a huge sombrero sitting atop the building. “This is it. Ramon and Chacha’s Taqueria Jalisco.”
Tequila parked quickly, then got out of the car, taking a long sniff of the air. “Yes! I can smell the corn tortillas and fresh salsa now.”
Coming up beside her, I slung my arm around her shoulders. “Shall we get our grub on?”
“We shall,” she agreed as she looked over her shoulder at the other couple who came along behind us.
“I’m going to have three margaritas. So who wants to drive us home?”
Sandra was quick to accept the designated driver role. “I can drive us back to D.C. I can’t drink anyway. I’m taking some antibiotics for a tooth infection.”
I tried hard not to laugh but failed miserably. “Shit. Sorry.”
“What?” she asked, perplexed.
Garrett filled her in. “He’s laughing at me, not you. Don’t worry about Clyde and his poor sense of humor.”
The Squid ain’t getting no kisses tonight!
Me, on the other hand, would most definitely be getting some kisses. Lots and lots of them. Tequila wanted three margaritas and I had high hopes that they would loosen her right up.
Only one table remained open in the packed place and I spotted it as soon as we walked through the door. “Over there. Table for four.” Expertly guiding our party through the maze of yellow and orange chairs, I led the way to the lone table.
Tequila’s eyes roamed the little place. “They certainly can pack them in. I’ve got a good feeling about this place.”
A waitress came by us with a tray of freshly made dinners. “I’ll be with you in a moment. Please take your seats. Pitchers of margaritas are tonight’s special. You want one?”
“We want two,” Tequila answered.
Yep, tonight is going to rock and roll!
Fresh salsa, homemade corn tortilla chips, and pitcher after pitcher of limey and salty margaritas kept on flowing as the night became something that promised to become legendary.
Pulling Tequila’s chair closer to me as a three-person mariachi band came to play at our table, I draped my arm around her shoulders as she leaned her head on me. “Do you know what they’re singing?” I asked her as she was Hispanic, and I wasn’t.
“He’s singing that he is a very honest man. To him the best women are not lacking money or love,” she told me.
“Really?”
She went on, “On my horse by the mountains, I go. The stars and moon tell me where I’m going.”
“Ah, a world traveler, like we once were.” My lips ached to kiss hers. But I knew this wasn’t the time.
Her eyes went wide as she said the next line to me, “Oh, my love. Oh, my brunette of my heart.”
Running my hand through her silky dark hair, I inhaled the clean scent of it. “Is that what he really sang?”
With a nod, she smiled sexily. “Why would I lie to you?”
To make me fall for you, my dear. Why else? “I suppose you wouldn’t. Does he sing anything else that might interest me?”
“Ah, this part is silly. He’s saying that he likes playing his guitar, singing to the sun and how mariachis are his companions when he sings his song.”
“That’s a little lame, I agree.”
Leaning in so close that her lips grazed my ear with each word, she said, “He sings, I like to take my drinks. Brandy is best. Also, white tequila with its salt gives flavor.” She switched from translating the song to me in English, to singing it in Spanish, “Ay mi amor. Ay, mi Morena de mi corazon. Oh, my love. Oh, my brunette of my heart.” Her lips – soft, warm, inviting – kissed the place behind my ear, making chills move through me.
“Holy, shit,” I mumbled as she set me on fire.”
Her hand ran along the inside of my thigh, then it came back up, grabbed a full margarita glass and held it to my lips. “Quench your thirst, you seem to have gotten hot.”
“And spicy,” Garrett said as he and Sandra cracked the fuck up.
“Real shitty, you guys.” I got the whole act now. But I did take the drink she offered as I had gotten very hot and somewhat spicy.
Our antics weren’t missed by anyone as the whole place began chanting, “Beso! Beso! Beso!”
Tequila’s cheeks went to a shade of red that matched the bowl the salsa was in. “Oh, no!” She shook her head. “We’ve just met!”
I had no idea what they were saying. “What? Tell me.”
Her dark eyes wide, her pink lips quivering a little, she said, “They want us to kiss.”
Wow! I love this place!
“Let’s give them what they want, mi amor.” I wasn’t sure I’d said what I meant to say. “Did I say that right?”
Cupping my face with both her hands, she whispered huskily, “Mi hombre consigue lo que quiere.”
I didn’t really care what it meant, but it sounded so fucking beautiful that I had to ask, “What did you say?”
Her lips met mine and my eyes closed as she kissed me. Then I heard one of the men in the mariachi band call out to all the patrons, “She said to him, my man gets what he wants!”
Thunderous applause, whistles, and odd-sounding Hispanic hollers rang out as I got lost in that perfectly wonderful kiss.
When she finally pulled her mouth away from mine, I felt lightheaded. “I think the tequila has gone to my head. I’m a little dizzy.”
She agreed. “I think you’re right. I have gone to your head.” Her fingers trailed lightly back and forth along the inside of my thigh as the whole place went crazy.
Fuck me! She is going to make me fall head over heels in love.
Giving us a break, the band moved on to another table on the other side of the room to let things cool down for us. Which wasn’t that great as I was having the time of my life.
Sandra’s eyes were bugged out of her head. “Oh. My. God!”
“It’s nothing,” Tequila said as she leaned back, resting comfortably in the crook of my arm. “It’s just how we Hispanics have a good time is all. We’re a passionate people.”
Garrett nodded in agreement. “You got any Latina in you, Sandra?”
“Better. I’m a McCormick,” Sandra let him know. “Irish, baby. We taught the Latins all about passion.”
The way the girls erupted into laughter brought me out of my stupor. Especially when Tequila sat up, pulling her perfect body away from mine. “Come with me to the ladies’ room, Sandra. I need to powder my nose.”
Sandra got up too. “Great because I’ve gotta piss.”
Raising my brows, I looked at Garrett. “She’s got a mouth on her.”
Cocking his head to one side, he frowned. “Unfortunately, her toothache will make it an impossibility for me to get to taste her sweet kiss tonight. But you sure got a taste of Tequila, did you not?”
“Fuck, yeah I did!” I had to take another drink of what was left in my glass to douse the flames. “She’s hot. I mean it. She. Is. Smoking. Hot.”
“If she was only a few years younger, you would have quite the fight for her affection on your hands, my jarheaded friend.” He laughed to lessen the blow.
“As if, squid. She’s a Marine,” I reminded him.
He leaned forward. “Not anymore. Now, she’s a smoking hot biker babe who runs an MC. That means she’s a ball-buster, Clyde. She wears the pants. You know what I’m saying here. You’re the master, not the slave. Or are you willing to switch roles with the hot Latina?”
I didn’t always play that way. “I can be serious, you know. I don’t always have to pretend.” Everyone in my MC knew I had a thing for playing the Dom/sub thing. But I had the idea that Tequila would have none of that.
“Why not see how she feels about it?” he baited me.
“You want me to fuck up and lose her, don’t you?” I knew he did. “Her age doesn’t matter to you one bit. She’s maybe five years older than you. That’s not too old for you.”
His laugh was hollow. “Clyde, you’re drunk. She’s your girl. I’ve got my own. Let’s not fuss over girls, bro. We’ve got a few months of what seems like a hella lot of fun with these girls. Don’t fuck it up with jealousy.”
He was right. “Yeah, let’s not fuck it up. But I ain’t playing my usual cards with this one.” I wasn’t stupid. “She’s the kind who would play along for a while, then all of a sudden I would find myself in chains and her holding the whip. No. Thank. You.”
Or maybe that wouldn’t be so bad at all.
&nb
sp; Chapter Six
Tequila
Things had gone even better than I could’ve ever imagined. I had the man in the palm of my hand already.
“That was insane, Tequila.” Sandra washed her hands as she grinned at me. “And so not you.”
“I know.” Being me wouldn’t get me what I wanted. I had to be someone else. A happy, fun-loving tramp. The kind of girl a man like Clyde Thomas wanted, when he wasn’t looking for sweet, young innocent girls to claim, then disappear on.
“He’s not your type though,” she said as if reminding me. “You like those stiff guys without much personality.”
“No, I don’t like them. I just know where I stand with them. There’s a big difference, Sandra.” My heart wasn’t up for grabs, so it made no sense to put it on the table. “Guys like that hold their hearts just as tightly as I hold mine.” I couldn’t let her think that I wasn’t into Clyde though. “But Clyde – well, he’s just pushing all the right buttons in me. He’s not like anyone I’ve dated. He’s different.”
“Way different.” She dried her hands then led the way out. “He’s hot too. Even with that stupid haircut, he’s hot.”
“You’ve got a hot man too.” I didn’t want her losing track of who she was with. “Sure, he’s a squid,” I teased. “But you’re one too, so it makes for a good match.”
“He’s fine for now.” She fanned out her auburn hair. “But I like guys with dark hair and eyes. His blonde hair and blues eyes make him look too…” she trailed off.
So, I finished the thought in an appropriate way, “Too great looking in an All-American guy kind of way?” Rolling my eyes, I knew Sandra was the kind who went for bad boys. Her heart had been broken more times than anyone I knew. “You’ve got a real problem.”
“Masochistic is what my therapist calls me.” At least she knew what she was. “And Garrett’s nice. He’s got what I call angelic good looks. Like, how do you ask a guy who looks like an angel to eat your pussy until you come in his mouth?”
“Fuck!” I couldn’t believe her mouth. Nor mine for that matter as a mother at the table we were closest too slapped her hands over her kid’s ears as she glared at me. “Sorry.”