by Ann DeFee
CiCi managed to curb her curiosity until Jake took an exit into a part of town that had seen better days—or perhaps not. It wasn’t exactly the barrio, but it was darned close.
It did, however, possess a certain charm featuring street vendors hawking tacos, storefronts displaying religious icons and a bustling mercado where menudo was probably more common than prime rib.
“Where are we going?” She turned in her seat to look at him, hoping his expression would give her a clue about what he was thinking.
“You’ll see.” Jake was clenching his jaw so tightly she was afraid he’d crack a molar. He also had a strangle-hold on the steering wheel. He hadn’t exactly been chatty until now, but if he was going for the strong, mysterious type, she would, too.
CiCi’s silent treatment lasted until Jake turned down a gravel lane. An industrial-size mailbox stood on one side of the road and a rusted sign reading Happy Trails was on the other. “Happy Trails?”
He shot her an indecipherable look. “It’s a trailer park.”
“Okay.” What was she supposed to say? Lots of people lived in manufactured homes.
“Here we are.” Jake pulled up in front of a row of run-down single-wide trailers. This place had likely had its heyday in the fifties, but considering the cars on blocks, listing lean-to additions, gang-sign graffiti and lawns burned brown by the relentless sun that might be an overly generous assessment.
Happy Trails was light years away from CiCi’s West Houston neighborhood, where lawns were manicured like putting greens and windows gleamed.
Jake pointed at a trailer that had likely once been a garish turquoise but was now badly faded. The front steps tilted precariously to one side and the entire structure looked ready to fall over.
“That’s where I grew up.” He said it so matter-of-factly that it took CiCi a few seconds to get a handle on what he said. And another moment to realize he was testing her.
He grew up here—so what? As far as she was concerned he could have been raised by wolves and it wouldn’t matter. “And?”
He seemed at a loss for words. “That was my home.” He stabbed his finger toward the trailer. “There!”
“Yeah. I get it.” If he wanted a pity party, he was on his own.
“I—” Jake was interrupted by furious knocking on the driver’s side window.
Their visitor was a tiny gnome of a woman, so short she could barely reach the glass.
Without saying a word, Jake jumped out of the SUV and grabbed her in a bear hug. “How’s the prettiest girl in south San?”
“You silly boy.” The gnome whacked him on the arm. “I was wondering if you were gonna to sit out here all day. Get your butt on inside, ya hear.” She peeked around Jake. “Brush off you manners, boy. Introduce me to your pretty young lady.”
“Aunt Pallie, this is CiCi. CiCi, Aunt Pallie practically raised me.” He gave the tiny woman a kiss on her wrinkled cheek.
“Come inside, gal. It’s hot as blue blazes out here,” Aunt Pallie demanded. It wasn’t the most affable invitation CiCi had ever received, but she wouldn’t miss this for the world.
“Yes, ma’am,” she answered, with a grin at Jake.
“Young man, don’t you do any lollygagging.” Aunt Pallie cackled. She reached down to pick up a microscopic Chihuahua CiCi hadn’t even noticed. “I’ll go pour us some iced tea.”
CiCi climbed out of the truck before Jake could come around to her door. His old-fashioned manners didn’t seem to match his appearance and profession, but she thought they were charming.
Pallie’s trailer was a stark contrast to the rest of the neighborhood. Not only was it fairly new, it was also meticulously maintained. Another incongruity was the bright red Mini Cooper parked under the adjacent carport.
CiCi thought she detected a pattern emerging—one that involved the big lug who was following her up the steps.
“You have a nice yard.”
“I like to garden,” the old woman said. “The yard’s small, but it’s a good size for me.” The area inside the picket fence was barely larger than a postage stamp, but with its abundance of flowering plants, it almost felt like an English garden.
“Get yourselves on in here,” she said, shepherding CiCi and Jake inside. “Have a seat on the couch.”
Pallie started tidying up even though there wasn’t a speck of dirt to be seen. “Lord have mercy, it’s an oven out there. Hope you don’t mind dogs. Chico’s right partial to pretty young ladies.” As if on cue, the dog cozied up next to CiCi.
“I’ll fix us some sweet tea.” Pallie shuffled off to the miniscule kitchen.
“Let me help you. I know where the Oreos are.” Jake was grinning like a mischievous kid.
“About time you offered. You were actin’ like company,” Pallie said, tweaking his ear. With their disparity in height, that was something of an accomplishment.
CiCi wondered about their relationship. Jake treated Pallie like a grandmother, but considering she had skin the color of dark caramel, that wasn’t likely.
Jake placed a tray of goodies on the coffee table. “Like I said, Pallie practically raised me. When I was fourteen, I decided it would be cool to be in a gang.” He smiled fondly at his old friend. “She quickly disabused me of that notion.”
“I whaled the dickens out of him, that’s what I did. By the time he was eight he was bigger than me. But I was a whole bunch meaner.” Pallie chuckled with humor. “This boy here kept those ne’er-do-well cousins out of trouble, too. Did you know that?”
“I didn’t do quite as well as I wanted.”
“You kept ’em mostly out of jail. And to my way of thinkin’ that was an accomplishment. How are they?”
Jake laughed. “Dwayne is the reason I met CiCi.” He told Pallie the story of the chicken.
By the time he finished, Aunt Pallie was laughing so hard tears were running down her wrinkled cheeks. “That rascal was always up to something. As bad as he was, I miss him.”
An hour later, CiCi’s blood sugar was through the roof, thanks to a combination of sweet tea and Oreos.
“I hate to say this, Aunt Pallie, but we’d better get going,” Jake told their hostess.
“Chico’s gonna surely miss you, Miss CiCi, but if you gotta go, you gotta go.” Pallie followed them out to the SUV. “Give me a hug,” she demanded, and Jake obliged. “You, too.” CiCi gladly complied. “Don’t be scarce now, ya hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jake gave Aunt Pallie a kiss and another hug.
It was almost six o’clock before they pulled onto the freeway. “I don’t know about you, but I need some real food. How would you feel about some of the best Mexican food in the state?” Jake suggested.
“That sounds perfect.” After the visit to Aunt Pallie’s, CiCi could only imagine where they’d be dining. And when Jake pulled into the parking lot of a seedy-looking strip mall she knew she’d called that one right.
The café’s décor was strictly thrift shop—mismatched tables and chairs, oilcloth table coverings and a menu written on a blackboard—but the aroma was enough to make CiCi’s mouth water. And forget about English being the primary language. She felt as if she’d been transported to Guadalajara.
They were barely in the door when the owner spotted them. “Jake Culpepper, amigo, where have you been?” The man didn’t even reach Jake’s chin. “You too good to come eat with Juan?” He tempered his insult with a huge grin. Not waiting for an answer, and oblivious to the stares from other customers, he yelled. “Mama! Come out here. Jake’s finally home.”
“Mama” came out, wiping flour from her hands. “Juan Martinez, stop that bellowing.” She was a small woman and so pregnant that she seemed as round as she was short.
It appeared that Juan was about to get ripped a new one, but then “Mama” caught sight of Jake.
“You handsome devil, where have you been?” She got up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, leaving a smudge of white be hind. “Bad, bad boy, you haven’t been home
in ages.” She smiled coyly. “If you ask me real nice, I’ll ditch him and run off with you.”
“Marcelita, you’re as gorgeous as ever.”
Jake patted his friend’s belly. “How’s Junior doing?”
“He’s doing gymnastics. It wasn’t like this with the girls,” she said, placing her hand on her back.
“CiCi, I’d like to introduce you to my friends Juan and Marcelita Martinez. We grew up together.”
CiCi wondered how he was going to describe her. Girlfriend? Wannabe lover? Boss?
“And this is my really good friend, CiCi Hurst.”
What did that mean?
After the introductions, Juan took them to the party room in the back of the restaurant and produced a mountain of food. Periodically during the five-course meal, Juan and/or Marcelita would join them, exchanging stories and reminisces with Jake.
“How’s your mom?” Juan asked as he and Marcelita brought in another round of mouth-watering food.
“She’s okay. You know I bought her that house in the Wood lands near Houston. Now she’s working at the cosmetics counter at Dillard’s. It’s something to keep her busy.”
“You’re a good son.”
“I try.”
“How about those no-good cousins?”
Jake shook his head. “Dwayne lives in Houston now and hasn’t changed much. He stole my car a few weeks ago.”
Juan exchanged a look with his wife.
“And Darrell is currently in the Bexar County jail. He just got his third DUI. Frankly, I hope he has to serve some time for this one.”
“Amen. That would be a blessing.” Juan made a sign of the cross.
“Juan and Darrell used to be best friends,” Jake explained to CiCi. “They got into a lot of scrapes together. Aunt Pallie is responsible for keeping us all out of Huntsville.” He was referring to the infamous state prison.
On that not-so-cheery note they finished their meal. Even though the cousins weren’t physically present, they’d still managed to put a damper on the fun. With a chorus of “come back soon” and “we’ll be watching the games,” CiCi and Jake left the restaurant.
Fifteen minutes into the drive, her curiosity got the best of her. “Where are we going?”
Jake’s expression remained shuttered, giving nothing away. “Uh, I thought we might spend the night here since we don’t have to be back at camp until morning,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road.
This was the point of no return. Was it time to take that next step?
“Are you thinking of two rooms or one?” CiCi knew exactly what he had in mind, but for some reason she couldn’t help teasing him.
Jake took the exit toward downtown and pulled into a valet parking lot. He stopped the SUV and gave her one of those “oh, shucks” grins. “We can get two, if that’s what you want. But I have to tell you that I hope that’s not what you’re going to say.”
“Really?” CiCi couldn’t resist the giggle that was bubbling up.
“Yeah.” Jake looked a bit chagrined, but maintained his drop-dead smile.
“It would be my honor to share a room with you.”
“Hot damn!”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
CiCi had never given much thought to seduction, but she was willing to give it a try. And somehow she managed to pull off the striptease. Piece by piece, she alluringly (she hoped) removed her clothing with a bare shoulder here, a provocative pose there.
She wasn’t quite sure it was working, until she got a good look at Jake’s face. He was in terrible pain. Poor, poor man, and wasn’t that wonderful?
“I can’t take any more of this. Come here.” He pulled her into his arms and she continued to strip, except this time he was an active participant.
Jake was a man with a slow hand—a very slow hand that instinctively knew where to stroke and caress and gently tweak. Making love with him was alternatively hot and tantalizing and hard and fast. In other words, it was perfect.
THE SEX WAS AMAZING. Nope, that was too mild a description. It was so mind-blowing Jake thought he was going to stroke out. And now CiCi was curled up against him like a contented kitten. Her head was on his shoulder and her hand was doing wicked things with his chest hair.
“That was nice,” she purred.
He propped himself up on one elbow. “Nice? I almost keeled over and you’re calling it nice!”
“Actually, I’ve never experienced anything quite like it.”
“Really?”
“No kidding.”
“So…” He gave her a hopeful grin. “Are you ready to see if practice makes perfect.”
“Oh, yeah. That sounds nice,” she murmured, and that was the last intelligible sound she made for quite a while.
THEY WERE DRESSED in matching fluffy bathrobes and enjoying a fajita dinner from room service when CiCi took him by surprise. “Did I pass?”
Jake paused in the middle of slathering salsa on his tortilla. “Pass what?”
“Pass the test.” She took a sip of her margarita and waited for his answer.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He figured when in doubt, go with a white lie.
“Oh, please. You took me to the trailer park to see if I passed the snob test. Don’t try to deny it.”
He was toast. “Well, uh…”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She lifted her glass in salute. “I’m insulted but not enough to send you packing.” She whacked him on the arm. “I like you, silly. Your background made you the man you are, and to that I say good going.”
If Jake hadn’t been in love with her before, he was now. Head over heels, knee-knocking in love. And that was scary as all hell. He couldn’t come up with a response so he put down his fork, determined to show her exactly how he felt. They adjourned to the bed for some nonverbal communication.
Much later, Jake decided it was time to initiate a conversation that might be uncomfortable, but was necessary at this point in their relationship.
“Would you like to tell me about your marriage?”
MAC WAS THE ONLY ONE who knew the whole sordid story, but CiCi realized it was time to share. “I told you that he was sleeping with a librarian and left me. But that’s not totally accurate. I think he mentally checked out long before he made his first visit to the Lincoln County Library.” CiCi shrugged, thinking about the way their marriage had started unraveling shortly after their first anniversary.
“We had completely different goals and desires. I wanted a baby, he didn’t. I wanted a job, he wanted me at home. I wanted to spend more time with my family, he didn’t like them.” She paused. “I gave in more than I should have. To be completely honest, I made more than my share of mistakes, too. But that’s okay and I’m fine now. Actually, I’m doing amazingly well.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Jake expressed his appreciation with a kiss.
“Not to be trite, but turnabout is fair play.” CiCi snuggled up close. “Tell me more about your family.”
For a moment she thought Jake hadn’t heard her. He cleared his throat before answering. “My mom and dad never got married. I think he already had a wife, but Mom won’t own up to that. I haven’t met him, but I guess that’s all right.”
“When I got my first signing bonus, I bought her a house in a Houston suburb. Not that I can ever repay her for everything she did for me. She worked two jobs to keep us afloat and I intend to make sure she doesn’t ever have to work again, unless she wants to.”
“And what about Aunt Pallie?”
“Aunt Pallie kept an eye on us while Mom worked. Like I told you, she made sure we didn’t get in real trouble.”
“You bought her that trailer and the car, didn’t you?”
Jake grinned. “Yeah, I did. I tried to buy her a house but she wouldn’t move. She said she liked it where she was.”
“I can certainly hear her saying that.” CiCi thought about the feisty old lady who was ready to take on the gangs to protect her chi
cks.
Jake was a combination of past and present elements, with all sorts of things between. Regardless of what she might have thought of him before, CiCi intended to peel back those layers to reveal the real man.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The next Wednesday was a typical Central Texas summer day—hot, sunny and so humid you could almost wring the water out of the air. CiCi was sitting on their private bench down by the river, contemplating the recent turn of events.
Would Jake have introduced her to his oldest friends if he didn’t think she was special? Probably not—no, definitely not. He had a public persona—the free-wheeling bachelor, but she knew now that was only a smoke screen for the real Jake Culpepper. Jake had a private side he rarely shared, and that was the man she loved—the guy who took care of old ladies and was loyal to lifelong friends.
And most important of all, he was nothing like her ex. Tank Tankersley was a mistake she never wanted to make again.
Camp was going to be over in a couple of days. Would she and Jake continue to see each other when they got back to Houston? This had been a terrific summer interlude, but could it become something permanent?
CiCi was still pondering all this when Jake joined her on the bench.
“A penny for your thoughts.” He ran a finger up her bare arm.
“I was thinking about our trip.”
“That’s good.” He flashed her a cocky grin that al most took her breath away. “So what do you think of this?” Jake slid her onto his lap and went for a slow, sensual, oh my God kiss.
“Hmm.” CiCi’s cognitive powers had taken a hike and that was about as much as she could manage in terms of a response. As much as she hated to admit it, she was so much in love with him it was sometimes hard to breathe.
Jake’s hand trailed up under her tank top, edging toward her lacy Victoria’s Secret bra. Keep going, big boy!