Jarillo Sunset

by Constance Bretes

  Jarillo Sunset

  by

  Constance Bretes

  Jarillo Sunset

  Copyright © 2015, Constance Bretes

  ISBN: 9781940744704

  Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.

  Electronic Publication: March 2015

  Editor: Pamela Tyner

  Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs

  eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Back Cover Copy

  When two strangers meet on a lonely road is it mere coincidence or fate?

  Real estate agent Char Johnson is on her way to meet a client when she gets a flat tire. It’s a meeting she can’t afford to miss since she’s just been told she may be out of a job if she doesn’t beat out a co-worker in sales over the next few months. When Vincent Carter stops and helps her, she’s grateful beyond words and is determined to pay him back for his kindness, which is how she ends up agreeing to be his date to a wedding.

  Ever since his divorce Vincent has been on a hiatus from relationships, and he’s perfectly happy with that. He’s not looking to get involved with anyone, but he does need a date for a wedding.

  Although the two discover they enjoy each other’s company, and there is definitely an attraction, with their schedules it would be difficult to find time to pursue anything. Vincent works two jobs, and Char is working extra hours to save her own job. Then there’s the conniving ex who seems determined to win Vincent back, a whole slew of family drama for both of them, and the list goes on. The obstacles in their way seem to grow by the minute.

  And even if they could overcome those, Char may not be able to overcome her own insecurities, not to mention her intense dislike for Vincent’s profession. Her father’s gambling addiction destroyed their family, so for her to now get involved with someone who works at a casino…

  Will Char be destined to be alone forever? Or can the handsome Native American she met by chance break through her walls and ease the loneliness in her life?

  Content Warning: contains some sexual content

  Acknowledgements

  This book would not be possible without the continued support from my husband, Jim, my family and friends, my critique partners, and my publisher at Beachwalk Press. I enjoyed writing this book and I hope you will enjoy reading it.

  Chapter 1

  Char Johnson slammed her fist into the steering wheel. “Well, that’s just great. I don’t know why the hell I get stuck with this company car.” Char looked around her surroundings. She was in the middle of nowhere, with a flat tire and a dead cellphone.

  Her week had already started out badly. She had been told earlier by her boss that she had three months to beat Mike Ventura in sales. She and Mike were the last two real estate agents hired at Stillwater Realty and they were low on the seniority list. Since the housing market bottomed out, sales had plummeted and one of them would be losing their job. The competition was stiff enough without increasing the competition among employees. She had been on her way to meet a potential seller, but now it looked like she wouldn’t make it.

  She stepped out of the car then kicked the flat tire. “Ouch!”

  She surveyed the area around her. Based on the information she had, she figured she was about two miles from her destination. The sun was beating down, and the temperature was already a sweltering ninety-five degrees and it was supposed to get hotter. The surrounding area was flat, and almost barren, reminding her of the Sahara desert.

  She looked down at what she had on—a blue pinstripe business suit with a white blouse that had lace around the neckline and down the front where the buttons were. She had on a pair of expensive Jimmy Choo high heels. At six hundred dollars a pair they would not be good for walking on a dirt road. I’m not dressed for a hiking expedition!

  She was short—five foot three—and she wore heels because it put her at eye level with most of her clients and with the staff at Stillwater Realty. She was glad that she’d the sense to pull her long hair pulled back into a French braid so it was off her neck and not making a hot day hotter. She had thought about getting her hair cut a million times, and a million times, she’d chickened out.

  She had worked up the gumption to start walking toward the subdivision when she turned around one last time and thought she saw a car coming way off in the distance. The car looked like a ghostly silhouette with the hot sun beating down from the sky. She decided she would wait a few minutes to see if the car would stop to help her.

  * * * *

  On his way home from work at the Apache White Eagle Casino, Vincent Carter turned onto Pueblo Lane, heading down the lone dirt road to his house at the Sunnyside subdivision, south of Jarillo. The county road commission had just leveled the dirt road, making it easier to drive the posted speed. His eyes burned from exhaustion, and he wanted to catch a catnap before going to Jake’s tonight. Jake was having a steak dinner cookout with the band. After the band, White Sands, finished their gig at the casino last night, they were taking a break for the next two weeks. Next Saturday Jake was getting married and would be gone for one week on his honeymoon. The band rarely took any time off to relax or take a vacation.

  It had been a particularly busy morning at the Apache White Eagle Casino in Hobbs, New Mexico. It seemed the retirees that came in the night before never left the casino to go to bed and he was serving cheap beer and drinks constantly from the time he got there at 4:00 AM until 10:00 AM.

  Vincent was feeling agitated and particularly moody this morning. He was happy for his friends Jake and Jennifer. It took them five years to decide they couldn’t live without each other. He found that his own self-imposed avoidance of getting involved with someone else meant he would be only one of two guys at the wedding without a date. Hell, the whole damn town of Jarillo was going to be there, so he knew he couldn’t miss it.

  Vincent saw a movement up the road and lifted his shades up from his nose as he squinted. What the hell was that? As he drew closer, he could see there was a car parked on the side of the road, and a woman stood next to it, waving her hand. That’s all I need now, to have to stop to help someone with car problems. He slowed down, pulled up behind the car, and rolled his window down.

  The woman walked quickly toward his SUV, her heels stinking into the dirt road as she approached. “Oh, you don’t know how happy I am to see you.”

  “What seems to be the problem?” he asked.

  “I have a flat tire, and I don’t know how to change it. I’m on my way to meet someone at the Sunnyside subdivision and my cellphone is dead.”

  Vincent slipped his SUV into park and opened the door and got out. As he walked over to take a look at the tire he saw artwork on the car that indicated it belonged to Stillwater Realty.

  After he’d checked out the tire Vincent turned back toward her and he was immediately taken in by her beauty. She had clear green eyes, a lovely face that had little makeup, and auburn-colored hair pulled back in a braid. His eyes dropped to her neck, and then to her chest. She had on a blue pinstripe suit with a white blouse. He couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like she had a pretty spectacular pair of breasts. His eyes went lower, to her waist and then her nicely-shaped hips. The skirt was short, about two inches above her knees, and she had a good looking pair of legs. His gaze drifted a little further, to her feet, and he cringed inwardly when he saw the thick high heels that brought her height up to about five feet five. He couldn’t imagine someone w
alking in those high heels and not tripping or falling. Vincent brought his gaze immediately back up to hers.

  “Do you have a spare tire in the car?” he asked.

  “Um, I don’t know. Let me look.” She walked to the back of the car and clicked the little button on the key pad and popped the trunk open. “Oh, I guess I do,” she said with a smile that was genuine and lit up her face.

  * * * *

  Char couldn’t believe what she saw in front of her. Whoa, she felt her body go into overdrive at the sight of him. He was definitely Native American. He had a beautiful wide chest, with large, strong arms and legs, and a thin waist. He had black, shoulder-length hair and a sort of angled face, but he had on a pair of fancy dark sunglasses, so she couldn’t see his eyes. He had on dark jeans, western boots, and a black, western shirt that had fringes along the underarms. Everything about him made her body tingle and her heart flutter.

  He walked to the trunk of the car and looked inside. He lifted the tire and inspected it briefly, then found the jack and the four-way wrench to unscrew the lug nuts.

  “I guess I can change the tire for you,” he said, although he didn’t sound particularly happy about it.

  He jacked the car up and popped the car rim. As he started to unscrew the lug nuts with the wrench, he looked up at Char.

  “So, you’re a realtor?”

  “Yes, I am. I’m on my way to meet someone at Sunnyside to hopefully list their house,” Char said nervously as she wrung her hands. “Are you from out here?” she asked him, still taking his body in as she noticed how muscular and lean he was.

  “Yes, I live in Sunnyside subdivision as well.”

  “You wouldn’t by any chance be the person I’m supposed to meet there?” Char asked hopefully.

  “No, I’m not interested in selling my house,” he replied, tilting his chin and slanting her a sideways glance.

  He was having a problem unscrewing one of the lug nuts. He stood up and then bent over and gave it a hard push downward, and the lug nut finally came loose. She was amazed at the raw strength he displayed.

  “What’s the address of the house you’re going to see?” he asked, starting to sweat from the hot sun and arduous job of unscrewing the lug nuts.

  “6265 Pueblo Lane. Do you recognize it?” Her heart was doing summersaults. She found herself wondering what it would be like to be held in his arms.

  “Yeah, it’s across the street from me.” He finally got the tire off, put it aside, and grabbed the other tire and slid it in place.

  “Is it a nice house?” Char asked. She really needed to convince the potential sellers to let her put the house on the market if it was sellable.

  “The house is okay, I guess. It needs some work. The current owners haven’t been maintaining it very well. The yard is always in need of mowing and there is a lot of overgrowth. They’ve got two junk vehicles off to the side of the house, which is in violation of covenant rules. My understanding is that the couple is in the process of getting a divorce.”

  “Oh, so the subdivision has covenant rules to go by?” Char asked with a press-on smile. She hated to do listings in an area that had a homeowners’ association with rules and covenants.

  He looked at her apologetically, his lips pressed together in a thin line that turned downward at the corners. “Yes, we have covenants, and they are enforced.”

  After he put the last lug nut in place, he punched the rim back on the tire. Standing, he released the jack, then took the jack, wrench, and flat tire and put them in the trunk.

  “I don’t know how to thank you enough for helping me out. Can I pay you for it?”

  “No,” he replied bluntly as he closed the trunk.

  “Are you sure? I’m really so very grateful for you doing this.” Char stepped closer to him so she could get a better look at his face.

  The man jutted his chin slightly to the left and lowered his eyebrows. “Yes, I’m sure. You better get going so you can make your meeting.”

  Char looked at her watch. “Oh, okay. Thank you again, so very much, for helping me.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The man turned and walked back to his SUV and got in. She got into the company car and noticed that he was waiting until she pulled out. Once she did, he followed her to the subdivision.

  * * * *

  Char pulled into the driveway of the address where she was meeting the sellers. She peeked in her rearview mirror and watched as the man pulled into the paved driveway across the street then opened the garage door and drove inside. He had a beautiful brick, ranch-style home with an immaculate lawn and some flowering plants growing around the edges.

  When she saw the garage closing, she turned her attention back to her meeting with the owners of the house she was hoping to list and sell. She straightened her hair a bit and applied some lipstick.

  Char glanced around the property and noted in her notebook that the front yard needed to be mowed and there were two junk cars along the left side. There was a lot of overgrowth in front of the house, which would make it difficult to walk the sidewalk that went from the driveway to the house. The garage door was opened. It was a two-car garage, but there was only one car parked inside.

  The house was a brick, ranch-style home as all the other houses on the street were, but there was some siding in the front of it that was dark brown and dirty looking. She stepped out of the car with her briefcase, camera, purse, and clipboard, and walked purposely up to the front door and knocked. A woman opened the door.

  “Hello, Mrs. Sedewick?”

  “Yes,” the woman replied.

  “I’m Charlene Johnson. We spoke on the phone and scheduled a meeting for today. I’m sorry I’m late. I had a flat tire. Thankfully, your neighbor across the street stopped and changed it for me.”

  “Oh, okay. Come on in.” Mrs. Sedewick opened the screen door and stepped back to allow Char to enter. Mrs. Sedewick looked like she was in her mid-thirties. She had dark blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail at her neck, was thin, and had on an old pair of jeans and a light blue top.

  As Char stood in the foyer area, Mrs. Sedewick hollered at three kids in the living room who were climbing each other rambunctiously. “Boys, go downstairs so I can talk to the realtor.”

  The kids took off for the basement, running and chasing each other.

  “Sorry about the mess. With three boys around, I have a hard time keeping the house clean.” Mrs. Sedewick smiled apologetically.

  “Not a problem.” Char looked around the area. The living room was in disarray and needed a really good cleaning. The furniture was old and somewhat torn and there was an old shag carpet that was a mixture of brown, orange, and yellow. It is kind of hideous. The walls were off-white, with an old pair of drapes hanging over a large window. There were a few pictures hung on the wall, and another wall was dedicated to family pictures.

  “Have a seat.” Mrs. Sedewick motioned toward the couch with her hand.

  Char sat down on the couch and said, “So, you’re interested in selling your house?”

  “Yes, I’m in the process of getting a divorce and part of the agreement is that I have to sell the house and split the proceeds between me and my soon to be ex-husband.”

  Char reached into her purse and pulled out her reading glasses and slipped them on.

  “How long have you lived here?” Char asked as she jotted down some notes.

  Mrs. Sedewick wrinkled her nose a moment as she thought, then said, “About ten years.”

  “Is this a three bedroom house?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Does it have a full basement?” Char looked up at Mrs. Sedewick, tilting her chin upward so she could see her through her reading glasses.

  “Yes, it does.” Mrs. Sedewick smiled at Char.

  Char smiled back and then asked, “What is the square footage?”

  “Um, I believe it’s twenty-two hundred square feet, including the basement.”

  “Would it be
possible to get a walk-through so I can jot down and document what I see?” Char asked.

  “Yes, come this way.” Mrs. Sedewick got up and Char followed her to the dining room.

  The walls in the dining room were covered in rose-colored wallpaper. There was an old oak table and six matching chairs with a buffet. The curtains were rose-colored and the carpet was a dark rose color. At least that room looked newer and the colors went together okay.

  From the dining room they walked into the kitchen which was done in white with white, older model appliances. The floor was white linoleum with a tan design. “Are the appliances staying with the house?” Char asked.

  “Yes, they are.”

  Char checked off items on the list and wrote notes to herself as she walked around the room. She counted thirteen cupboard spaces and a broom closet in the kitchen.

  They walked down the hallway, which was bare except for the shag carpet on the floor, and entered the main bathroom. There was one powder blue sink with a blue counter. The counter and the mirror were both wide, and there was a closet for towels. The toilet was also powder blue. Char pulled the old, blue shower curtain back to look at the tub. It was also powder blue, and it was yellow and rusty looking from hard-water buildup. There was old tile on the wall that was a light shade of blue and a tiny, vent-like window that was opened. The floor was a blue and white linoleum. The walls were blue too. Way too much blue in this room.

  Next they went into the master bedroom. It had one large picture window which looked into the backyard where Char could see a swing set and a broken-down wading pool. The carpet in the bedroom was a deep brown. There was a large closet with wood sliding doors. The walls were white and a few pictures were hung up. The bedroom had a Mediterranean-style bedroom outfit of dark-colored wood, and a white bedspread.

  “Have you got an idea in mind as to how much you want for the house?” Char asked, her eyebrows knitted together as she thought about a price in her head.