“I don’t want to track into the house,” she said a little shyly.
“We have a mud room at the back by the garage with a shower and all, for when I come in from work too dirty to set foot in the house.”
“I bet it’s a lot, being in a big house on your own after living with your grandpa,” she said.
“Yeah,” I said. I felt it, too, that pit of loneliness I didn’t dare think about too much. I appreciated that she understood how hard it was but didn’t try to make me discuss it in detail.
I pointed out the fireplace, hewn of leuders limestone quarried in north Texas. The custom couches were made with leather from the Santi tanneries, hand dyed with the same processes used for generations. The mantelpiece was a great log cleared from Santeria pastureland, and the curving glossy ornament that looked like a sculpture in shades of amber that decorated the mantle was genuine Texas state stone—no gem for us, but petrified palmwood with its golden dots and rods. I took her around the room, showed her the framed photos from my championships at horse shows growing up, the trophy I won for barrel racing at nationals.
“Look at you with that mustache,” she said, pointing.
“I was sixteen. I was very proud of that mustache.”
“Why?” she asked with a laugh.
“Here I am trying to impress you with my awards and trophies and you’re talking trash about my adolescent facial hair,” I said, mock offended.
“If you want to impress me, show me the horses. The house is gorgeous, no question, but I’m not much of an indoor person,” she said.
“That’s music to my ears,” I said, and took her back through the kitchen and out the mud room.
“Let’s go this way,” I said.
“Uh, my shoes are back at the front door,” she said.
“Right,” I said, and backtracked through the house to get her shoes. She stopped at the wedding portrait of my parents and looked up at it.
“You look like your mom. Same smile, same eyes and those ridiculous long eyelashes. God, you’re too pretty. But you have your dad’s jawline and forehead.”
I looked at her, wondering if she knew how much time I’d spent studying that picture as a child, looking for traces of them in my own face and features. She turned abruptly toward me and gave me a fierce hug, her arms tight around me. I hugged her back, leaned into her for a minute. It was the best hug I’d had in as long as I could remember, the first time anyone had hugged me at all since Papí’s funeral almost seven months before. It came on me in a rush, how much I’d missed physical affection. My grandfather and I weren’t really demonstrative, but I knew he loved me, and he always gave me a hug before he went up to bed and said, “Good to have you here, mijo.” I always knew where I stood, that he wanted me there. And I knew to expect warmth and affection. So when he was gone, the main fixture of my life, I was almost starved for that.
Sure, I’d hooked up with women. I hadn’t been living like a monk or anything, but sex and affection didn’t usually have much to do with each other in my experience. It was more about fulfilling a need than making a connection for me. But with Allie hugging me, as I stood there thinking how much I liked her, how caring she was, I wondered if it couldn’t be more. If sex with Allie might be something more than just physical release for me. If our friendship and flirtation would add a dimension to the explosive chemistry between us. It was an intriguing thought, and a little frightening.
We broke apart, and I took her out to the stables. I had her tucked under my arm, up against my side like she fit there. She was laughing at something I said. I caught sight of Pablo and waved to him. He loped up to us, and I introduced them.
“Pablo, this is Allison Shaw, my fiancée. Allie, this is Pablo, my oldest friend and the manager of the Santeria stables.”
“Hi,” she said, “good to meet you.” She held out her hand to shake his.
“Come on, you’re family now,” he said, and tugged her toward him, giving her a bear hug. She laughed and hugged him back.
“You know I have two sisters, but I always wanted a big brother,” she said with a grin, “and one who can teach me all about horses. I interned at a large animal vet in college, but there’s more to learn. Show me around?” she asked.
Allie had already worked her charm on Pablo. The grouchy man who was half against my getting married to keep the ranch was practically eating out of her hand. It made me itch. I wanted her back under my arm, tight against me. Seeing her walking a little ahead, chattering to Pablo as he pointed out features of the stable structure and ventilation system, made me feel something like jealousy. Warm affection or not, I wanted to be cupping the curve of that ass and rocking her down the length of my hard-on. I didn’t want to follow my manager and my fiancé while they walked around the stables. I glowered at them.
She turned around like she could feel my glare, held out her hand to me, to get me to catch up.
“Aren’t you coming?” she said sweetly.
I couldn’t help it. I went and joined her. I caught her by the hand and whirled her into my arms, kissed her full on the lips.
“I can’t have Pablo here turning your head. You just took off with him.”
“Well—there’s horses here,” she laughed as if that explained everything.
“I can show you the horses,” I said. “I’d be happy to show you a lot of things if my manager would go do his job.” My voice was teasing, but part of me wanted to shove Pablo back in his office and slam the door.
She stood on tiptoe and nipped at my lip. Whatever sassy reply she’d been sure to make was drowned in lust in an instant. My hands were working over her back and squeezing her curvy ass. She had canted against me, her breasts flattened to my chest, her lips open beneath mine. God, I wanted her. Up against the wall, bent over that saddle that needed to be oiled, down in a pile of fresh hay that smelled sweet and dusty. I moved my mouth to her ear, and Pablo cleared his throat.
“If you all are through dry humping, I can show you the horses. Or you can get a room,” he said grumpily.
I was making a fool of myself in front of my oldest friend. I backed off with an edgy laugh, “Can’t seem to keep my hands off her.”
She beamed up at me, not at all visibly embarrassed that I had just groped her ass in front of my best friend. Maybe she had a naughty side. Maybe my Allie was a little bit shameless. The thought tantalized me.
She met the horses, stroking their velvety noses and scratching their forelocks, asking after their ages. I was glad to see Mantilla nuzzle Allie’s neck and take a whiff of her scent. I for one knew how good she smelled. Allie peeked at the kittens one of the barn cats had just had, lifted one mewing to her shoulder where she petted it softly with one finger. She was adorable, gently petting a gray kitten that proceeded to yawn and give a mew before settling into her arms. She put the wee kitten back under the pallet with its siblings and asked to meet the dogs.
When a couple of the ranch hands rode up with the border collie at their heels, she knelt to meet the dog. His tongue lolled out happily as she scratched behind his ears while I introduced her to Kirby and Miguel. She chatted for a few minutes about the ranch and then picked up a stick and threw it for the dog. He bounded after it, retrieved it and hurried back. She clapped her hands and threw the stick again. Soon we were both romping around after a working dog that wasn’t used to being played with. I remembered what she’d said at the courthouse earlier. Let’s make this fun.
It seemed like a real possibility. For the first time since that will was read, my future looked promising again.
8
Allie
My sisters and I FaceTimed whenever we couldn’t get together, and Monday was no different. I hadn’t broken the news of the engagement yet, but Addy knew something was up.
“How’s the man of your dreams?” she asked. “He’s all you’ve talked about for almost a month now. Are you getting serious?”
She was just teasing, but she had no idea how right
she was.
“We’re spending a lot of time together. It’s fun,” I said lightly.
“Fun? How much fun?” Megan asked.
“The ranch is huge, all that open space. He has horses as well as cattle, and I love the animals. How about this Friday night, family dinner at the ranch?” I asked. “He wants to meet my family, host all of us at the main house. I already talked to Mom and Dad, and they’re looping back in this direction in the RV. They’ll be here by Friday morning at the latest. You’ll come, right?”
“Wait, what?” Megan asked. “A meet the family dinner at his home? That seems a little—much for three or four weeks into a relationship, Al. What’s going on?”
“Dinner,” I said, playing dumb. Megan knew something was up. I didn’t want her weaseling it out of me before we made the announcement at dinner. I smiled brightly. “You can bring a date. You don’t have to just sit there and listen to him talk about cows or anything.”
“I can’t wait to meet him for real. I mean, we met him when he brought the dog food, but we were kind of acting like idiots that night. He was really hot, and I wasn’t prepared for that level of gorgeousness to be served up right in your home. It’s a miracle I didn’t ask if I could lick him,” Megan said.
“I’m definitely coming. Check out the hot cowboy’s ranch, get a free meal, see our prodigal parents at the same time. It’s a win,” Addy said.
“Thanks. I can’t wait!” I said.
I was so excited to have my whole family together and introduce them to Raul properly. That was his word—properly. A gentleman meets his in-laws properly, not in the doorway with a twenty-pound bag of dog food on his shoulder. He wanted to open his home to us, had cleared it with me and then helped me go over a menu with his cook. She had been helpful and made suggestions when I said, “Just make whatever. They’ll eat anything but beans.” She had laughed at that, and we had settled on a menu including beef from Santeria and a salad of marinated tomatoes from the kitchen garden and a side of roasted asparagus, also grown on site.
“You should totally do a farm to table restaurant here,” I remarked to Raul.
“Santeria is a business, not a tourist attraction,” he said. “And farm to table implies there’s a farm, not just a vegetable and herb garden for our own use.”
“Eh, I watch a lot of that home network at night. I had visions of iced tea in Mason jars and vases of white peonies.”
“I can make sure there are peonies at the family dinner. I want to meet them, Allie.”
“You will. I think it’s a great idea. But let’s, you know, get our story straight. We’re just people who fall in love and get engaged faster than a couple on reality TV dating shows, right?”
“Leave out the part about the reality TV, but, yeah. We’re getting married, no mention of the inheritance terms or your financial settlement. We can make it look real, right?” he said.
“You’re so cute. Of course we can. It’ll be like we’re partners in crime,” I said. “My mom will love you because you own a home and have a job. My dad, well, he was a cop, so he’ll probably ask you about your driving record or something weird. He’s protective, and it’s really sweet, but sometimes it drives me crazy.”
“They sound great. I’m glad your sisters are coming. Is there anything I should be warned about with them?”
“They’ll want to know if you have a brother or cousin or other male relative of eligible age. You’re hot, and they’re single. Addy’s in law school so she may ask something about inheritance law, but it wouldn’t be a red flag. She’s super smart and curious about stuff, not suspicious. So just try to have fun.”
“I will. Having you around makes it easier,” he said.
The only thing that wasn’t easy so far was not having sex with him. We were going to once we were married, that was pretty obvious. It was the fact that we were trying to wait until after the ceremony, to make it seem like we were being romantic and traditional about something. It wasn’t a choice we were broadcasting, but I planned to tell my sisters, especially if Megan kept sniffing around that something was fishy. It might convince them that this was the real thing, that we were in love.
I brought the dogs to the ranch for the dinner, arriving early. I wanted everything to be perfect. My red dress, the same one I’d bought for our dinner date, hung on the back of a guest bedroom door for me to change into. He had offered me his bedroom, had tried to lead me in there to show me how convenient it was, how well appointed. I knew damn well we’d end up naked in thirty seconds flat, so I’d refused. I insisted on a guest room and was given one. It didn’t mean I didn’t have the urge to climb him like a tree when he came in through the mudroom fresh from his shower, a towel slung low around his hips.
I wanted to fall to my knees, grip his thighs, take his length in my mouth, and bathe it with my tongue. I blushed at the thought and couldn’t think of a single decent thing to say. I cleared my throat, but it didn’t help at all.
“You okay?” he grinned mischievously, adjusting his towel.
“You’re killing me. You know that, right?” I asked.
“We’ve got more than an hour and a half until the guests arrive, and that’s if they’re fifteen minutes early. That gives us nearly two hours if we want it,” he said archly.
My mouth was dry, I wanted him so much. It was all I could do to dig my nails into my palm and resist. I shook my head.
“Can I at least kiss you?” he asked, the flirtatious glint in his dark eyes.
“No. If I kiss you when you’re in nothing but a towel, we will end up naked on the floor and scandalize your cook,” I said.
“I’ll give her a nice bonus to go stand in the pantry,” he joked.
“Stop,” I said.
Still, the whole time I was getting dressed, applying my makeup, instead of being nervous about introducing him to my parents and convincing them of our genuine engagement, I was distracted by the slick, swollen folds of my sex every time I shifted in my chair. I shut my eyes for a moment and let myself imagine Raul sliding his fingers along my labia, parting them and dipping long, work roughened fingers into my channel as I gushed with want. He would work me over until I was weak and begging. I knew it. I knew from the way he kissed me in the stable when we were with Pablo—all he cared about was getting what he wanted, right when he wanted it. And he wanted me.
There was nothing that could distract him from the intense, laser focus of an alpha male who spies his prey. And I was a willing prey.
My hands trembled as I tried to fasten a bracelet. On the third try, I gave up and went into the hall.
“Raul?” I called.
He ran up the stairs to me. He was wearing a suit. He was devastating in a suit, and it took my breath.
“Oh,” I said.
“Are you okay?” he said, his brow furrowed.
“Can you fasten my bracelet?” I asked.
I held out my arm. His fingers brushed the inside of my wrist as he clipped the fastener together. I shivered a little.
“I like that,” he said, putting his mouth to my wrist. I let my eyes drop shut just reveling in the sensation of his hot mouth on my tender, unsuspecting skin. His hand was on my shoulder, the pad of his thumb swirling over a spot on my throat, “I can see your pulse jumping in your neck.”
He gave a growl of satisfaction and put his mouth on my throat, kissing and sucking until I gripped his hair and whispered, “Please.”
Raul lifted his head, “Please?”
“Take me to bed. In that room, the closet, anywhere,” I gave a shaky laugh.
“I thought we were waiting,” he said, his voice dangerous and his eyes dark with intent.
“Screw waiting. We’re the couple who rushes in and has fun, right? So just—just once. To take the edge off,” I said. I sounded like an addict. A shameless addict. But I couldn’t help myself.
“Allie,” he said roughly, his arms around me. I felt his body, hard and urgent against me.
; “Yes,” I breathed against his lips.
“Tell me to stop. Tell me if you want to wait.”
“I don’t want to wait another second,” I said, my voice shaky, something between a laugh and a sob.
Raul didn’t hesitate. He lifted me in his arms and carried me into the guest room where I’d changed. I couldn’t take my eyes off him—the glorious way his dark gaze seemed to possess me. Everything I knew or thought distilled to nothing more than please and now.
I knelt on the bed, untying the sash of my dress as he shrugged off his jacket and pulled off his tie. He started on the shirt buttons, but I pushed his hands away, wanting to unwrap him myself. I met his eyes again and our lips bumped together as of their own accord. My breath sawed in and out in gusts. I felt sweat trickle down my spine and between my breasts. His tongue was in my mouth as I made a clumsy job of his shirt buttons. He flung his beautifully tailored shirt off and unbuckled his belt. I caught my breath—god, just the sound of him doing it, the sight of Raul unfastening his belt, and knowing what he was about to give me made a pulse beat between my legs, needy and furious. I heard the hiss of the leather as it sang through the belt loops, the thud when it hit the carpet. He shucked his pants off, naked and proud before me.
Raul was lean and hard, every inch of him honed to sharp perfection. From his chiseled jaw and full lips to the deep cut lines on either side of his washboard abs. I was raw with need, my lips parted. I felt how flushed my skin was, how slick and sensitive I was between my legs. He let me look at him, all of him. He never shied from my gaze, confident in the amazing power of his body.
Then his big, blunt-tipped fingers parted the crossed over red fabric of my dress, just the brush of his thumb below my collarbone making me moan. My legs were shaking, and he didn’t even have my clothes off yet. At this rate, I’d go off as soon as he touched me. I clenched hard and deep at the thought. He peeled away the fabric of my dress, slid his hands down my arms as he pushed the dress from my body.
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