“He’s good. He’s mending at school. I offered to let him come home, but he didn’t want to leave campus.”
“Kids are resilient. They bounce back a lot faster than we do.”
Jane nodded, and found the courage to ask, “Why did you call me?”
Ryan scowled. “Maya let it slip that you’d come to the restaurant before you flew home. I finally pried the conversation out of her. She was nasty to you, and that woman you saw me with wasn’t a client. It was Gretchen’s sister. I was keeping her company while she waited for Gretch. That’s all it was. I called because I needed to tell you that Maya was wrong. About everything.”
“She wasn’t wrong about your actions that weekend. After hearing Maya explain your formula I realized that I wasn’t special at all. Not to you. Maybe you should’ve kept the fee.”
Ryan cocked his head. “Are you finished?”
She shrugged, then nodded.
“Good,” he said softly, “because if you can stop talking for a minute, I’ll explain.” He laced his fingers with hers and guided her to an empty bench.
She resisted a moment before sitting.
Ryan sank down beside her. “At first, yes. We met at a bar where I met most of my clients, but that’s it.”
“Really? What about the tour the next day?”
“I’ve taken clients to some of those places. I’ve also done it for out-of-town friends. I’m proud of my city, and I like to show it off.” His voice was silky and warm. “But I never took a client to see my grandparents’ house. I never shared my favorite strudel. And I certainly never took any of them to meet my family.”
She wanted desperately to believe him, but she had to be sure. “And the next day?” As the question left her lips, the image of their bodies between the sheets flashed into her mind.
“That was all real to me. Every incredible moment of it. I thought it was real to you, too. I never would’ve pursued you if I hadn’t believed you felt the same way. I was too far gone.”
“Too far gone?” she whispered.
“Into you. I waited for you the whole day, hoping you were going to walk through the doors at Vine.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me how you felt before you left?” Jane asked.
“I wanted to be fair and give you some time to think. I wanted to give you a graceful out, if you needed to take it. I wanted you to come to me without any regrets or reservations.”
“And I did! But Maya—”
“I know. And I’m sorrier than I can say about that whole misunderstanding.”
She shrugged. “You didn’t seem too broken up about it when I saw you at Rio Iguana with that blonde.”
His eyes widened. “Hold on. That was you? I only saw the back of your head as you left, but I could’ve sworn it was you. I smelled your perfume. I went after you, but you’d already left. The woman I was with was a liquor distributor. She was trying to sell me a new line of tequilas, and she wanted me to see how the Rio Iguana crowd loved the product.”
Jane searched his eyes.
He lowered his voice. “I wanted to see you again. I wanted another chance to get things right between us.”
Her heart was melting. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to get your call or your text.” She shivered. “I still can’t believe Nick had the nerve to do that to me. To us.”
They sat side by side without another word spoken. Sounds of Ryan’s family at Vine faded into the background as Jane tried to make sense of it all. She leaned toward him, just a little, letting her shoulder brush against his. “So where does all that leave us?”
A slow smile crossed his face. “Wherever we want to take it. Come with me.” He stood and pulled her up.
“Where are we going?”
“Someplace that’s not here. Preferably someplace that has large quantities of tequila.”
Ryan led Jane through a series of dimly lit pathways.
“Seriously. Where are we going?” Jane asked again as she stared at the darkness ahead.
“Trust me. It’s worth the hike.” Ryan squeezed her hand, and she heard music playing in the distance.
Jane peeked around Ryan’s broad shoulders and spotted a grouping of trees decorated with twinkling white lights. “What is this place?”
“The best-kept secret in San Antonio. Locals come here to get away from the tourists.”
They stepped onto a patio filled with wooden picnic tables. A few food trucks lined the street beyond the casual seating area. A band played a bluesy beat, not far from where they stood. Ryan guided her to an empty table.
A woman Jane estimated to be about her age approached them. “Haven’t seen you around, Ryan. Good to see you back here. What can I get you?”
“Tequila. Two shots now and a couple on standby.”
“Take a seat,” Ryan offered. “The bench gets a whole lot more comfortable after a couple of shots.”
Jane laughed. Slipping her legs over the bench, she sat down, closer to Ryan than she’d intended. A spark ran through her as the outside of her thigh touched his leg. In a silent statement, his palm came to rest near her knee, just as four shot glasses filled with golden liquid, accompanied by a saltshaker and a plate of lime wedges, were placed on the wooden slats of the table.
“You two look like you could use those standbys now,” the waitress said, and winked.
Jane surveyed the spread before her. “I’m not much of a shot drinker. What is all this?”
Ryan’s sexy grin warmed her in all the right places. “Never done tequila shots?”
Jane shook her head. “I guess that makes me a shot virgin.”
“In that case, this is going to be even more fun.” He took her palm in his hand and traced a circle on the sensitive spot of skin between the base of her thumb and index finger. “First, lick your hand right here.”
Jane raised her eyebrows. “You want me to lick my hand?”
“Unless you’d like me to do it for you.”
The heat in her belly moved lower, and she pressed her thighs together. As seductive as that sounded, she needed to keep a level head. “I think I can manage.” When she raised her hand to her mouth and gave the area a lick, she could have sworn she heard Ryan let out a low groan. “Now what, Tequila Master?”
“I like the sound of that. Sprinkle a little salt where you licked.” He demonstrated on his own hand, and Jane followed suit. “Now, hold a lime wedge in the same hand and pick up a shot glass.”
She did as he directed.
“Ready?”
“No. But I’m not going to let that stop me.”
“Okay. Do what I do.” Ryan raised his fist to his mouth, so that the tip of his tongue touched the sprinkle of salt on his skin.
As Jane watched him lick the white specks, an image of his tongue’s ministrations on the inside of her thigh flashed through her head. Whoa. She raised her fist to follow his lead, and smiled when his gaze traveled to her own tongue. Then he lifted his shot to hers. The glasses touched with a soft clink as their fingers brushed for a moment. “Cheers,” they said in unison.
“Try to drink it down in one gulp.”
Jane touched the glass to her lips and emptied the contents into her mouth. Tipping her head back, she directed the tequila in the right direction, and she swallowed. A numbing burn meandered down her throat.
“Now bite into the lime, to cut the sting.”
She sank her teeth into the green fruit wedge, and bursts of citrus exploded on her tongue, tempering the flame smoldering in her mouth. “Wow.”
“Are you up for another?” Ryan challenged.
Jane could feel the stress of the past weeks melting away as the effects from the shot coursed through her veins. She rolled her shoulders. “Let’s go for it,” she said boldly, then held up an index finger. “With one variation.”
Jane reached for Ryan’s hand and coaxed it into a loose fist, then brought it to her mouth. Her tongue darted out, and she licked his skin, tasting the residual salt
from the first shot.
His groan rumbled through her. “My turn.” Intertwining his fingers with hers, he touched his lips to each of her fingertips before drawing a wet circle in the crease of her hand, at the base of her thumb.
Jane swallowed hard as heat flooded her lower belly.
Ryan hooked his arm through hers and sprinkled salt onto the moistened spots on both of their hands. Next, he handed her a shot and wedge of lime.
“Cheers,” They clinked glasses again. “One, two, three.”
The second shot went down, smoother than the first.
“Oh that’s good,” Jane gasped. A breeze swept through her hair, and she closed her eyes, allowing the effects of the tequila to race through her body.
“What are you thinking?”
She took a deep breath. “I’m thinking there’s not a single place I’d rather be right now than right here.” She opened her eyes and turned to him. “With you.”
Ryan swung one long leg from under the table and straddled the bench. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her back against his chest, just as the band started a new set.
Jane closed her eyes again and swayed to the beat of the music.
“Dance with me.” His whispered words tickled her ear.
She smiled. “I don’t dance,” she said, and continued to sway.
“You’re doing pretty well, right now. All you need to do is stand up.” She felt his breath move to the nape of her neck, tickling the strands of her hair.
“I can’t dance,” she repeated, and stopped moving to the music.
“Who told you that?” Ryan asked.
“My ex-husband.” Jane thought back to the weddings and dinner parties she’d attended with Nick. He would take her onto the dance floor for one token slow dance, then sit out the rest. Jane had always loved music, and enjoyed bopping around her kitchen while she cooked to top forty songs. But Nick had nothing but snide comments for her dancing ability.
Ryan wasn’t giving up that easily. “They say dancing is like making love with your clothes on. I’ll admit I haven’t seen you dance, but I can vouch for the second activity, and if what they say is true, then you’re a spectacular dancer, Querida.”
She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “How about another shot?”
“Dance first.”
Jane squinted at the band and pointed to the empty dance floor in dismay. “There’s no one else up there. I’ll make a fool of myself.”
“It’s a safe bet that everybody here has already had a lot more than two tequila shots. They probably won’t even notice we’re there.”
The beat of the music reverberated in her chest. “I’m sure you dance really well.”
“They’d revoke my Spanish heritage card if I didn’t,” Ryan said, and laughed. “Come on, one dance. Please?”
“Okay, but promise me you’ll let me stop if I make a fool of myself.”
“Deal.” He stood, helped her disentangle herself from the picnic table bench, and guided her to the dance floor. Between the dim lights and the lasting effects of liquid encouragement, she found she wasn’t afraid to wrap her arms around Ryan. In fact, she kind of loved it, especially when his hands encircled her waist and pulled her against his rock-hard body.
They swayed with the beat of the music, and she focused carefully on where she placed her feet.
“Relax and feel the music,” Ryan murmured into her ear.
“I don’t want to step on your toes.”
“I’ll live, even if you do. Close your eyes and rest your head here.” He patted a spot on his chest, just below his shoulder.
“This is nice.” Her fingers slid up the back of his neck and played with the fine hairs at his nape. Shivers ran through her as his fingertips traced up and down her spine, then came to rest at the base of her backside.
Then the song ended, and Jane bit back a sigh of disappointment. The band began to play an up-tempo song, and her insecurities returned. “Ryan, I can’t—”
But his hands moved to her hips and guided her movements.
Tossing aside her fear of stomping on his feet, she let Ryan’s hands and the music take over.
It was a magic combination, one that Jane wished could go on forever. But Ryan suddenly took her hand and twirled her once before pulling her in for a dip, just as the song ended.
Applause filled her ears as Ryan set her back on her feet. Grinning, he said, “I think we’ve cleared up that ‘I can’t dance’ thing. Take a bow, Querida.”
The singer waved his hand toward Ryan and Jane. “Give it up for this spectacular couple.”
Ryan picked up two water bottles on their way back to their table.
“You two are just too cute together,” their waitress exclaimed as they returned to their table. “These are on the house.” And she placed two more tequila shots in front of them.
As soon as they downed those shots, the waitress brought more as the locals stopped to say hello to Ryan and meet Jane.
Jane lost count of how many new San Antonio friends she’d made on the night she learned that she loved to dance. She also lost count of the quantity of golden liquid that passed through her lips and down her throat. But she knew she didn’t have to worry. Ryan was with her, and that made everything all right.
In fact, it made everything perfect.
Chapter Sixteen
Jane tried to blink, but her eyelids felt like sandpaper as she squinted at the clock on the bed table. It was, she realized, an unfamiliar bed table, with an equally unfamiliar lamp and clock. Next to the clock sat three ibuprofen and a note leaning against a water bottle.
Jane rubbed her eyes, trying to chase the sleep from her brain. Where the hell am I? She plucked the note with her thumb and forefinger and turned it over.
Swallow the pills and drink the entire bottle of water before you attempt to get out of bed.
I’ll be right back. ~R
Of course. It all came back to her. Little Isabel. Ryan. Tequila. Dancing. Tequila. Kissing. More tequila…
Damn. Jane scanned her surroundings. Was this Ryan’s place? She had no recollection of how she’d gotten there or what had happened after they arrived.
She lifted the sheet from her body, and saw that she wore only her panties and what she assumed was one of Ryan’s t-shirts. Did she… Had he… Her mind raced, searching for clues, but she was still unenlightened when she heard a door open.
“Honey, I’m home!” Ryan’s cheerful voice called from what sounded like the lower level of the house. His footsteps sounded on the stairs, before he peeked through the half-open door. “Oh good, you’re awake. Take the ibuprofen right away. It’ll make you feel better.”
Jane rubbed her forehead. “Why did I drink so much?”
“Blame the tequila.” He strode to the bedside table and handed her the water bottle. “Drink this. It’ll make you feel better, too.”
She tipped the opening to her lips and washed down the pills with a few sips of cold water. It cleared her head enough for her to continue her train of thought. “We didn’t—uh, you know. Did we?”
Ryan sat at the foot of the bed, and a smile played across his lips. “I have rules against taking advantage of drunk women.”
“But you undressed me.”
His gaze moved down her body. “Yes.”
“And you took off my bra.”
“It looked terribly uncomfortable. I don’t know how women can stand to wear those things.”
Their gazes locked for a moment while Jane debated whether or not to believe him.
His look didn’t waver. Instead it seemed to travel under her skin, making itself at home. Taking root…
She needed to change the subject to something less intimate than how she had ended up in a strange bed, wearing not much more than half of her underwear. She glanced around the bedroom. “This is your house?”
Ryan nodded. “This is it. And I live alone, if that’s your next question.”
; Jane closed her eyes and leaned the back of her head carefully against the headboard, which made the ache in her temples subside just a little. “How drunk was I? Did I dance again?”
Ryan chuckled. “No. No more dancing, but lots more tequila. I didn’t realize how much the shots were affecting you until it was too late. I didn’t want you to be alone to deal with the consequences when you woke up, so I brought you back here.”
“Did I say anything embarrassing?”
“Actually, you’re quite an amusing yet lightweight drunk.”
Jane rubbed her temples. “Do I even want to know? Wait. No. I don’t think I do.”
“I’ll give you the condensed version. You said you wanted to show me how much you liked me, and then you passed out.”
Jane took a few more swigs from her water bottle. “Which is why I usually don’t drink anything stronger than wine. So, I did embarrass myself.”
Ryan winked. “Actually, I kind of liked it.”
“Sounds like you could’ve gotten lucky pretty easily, last night.”
“Like I said, I would never use a woman’s lack of a clear head against her for my own enjoyment. That’s not the kind of sex I want with you.”
Jane tilted her head. “Meaning?”
Ryan shrugged. “There are different types of sex, just like there are different types of relationships. On the one hand, there’s your casual, just-for-fun variety. On the other hand, there’s your mind-blowing, make-a-real-connection sex. Most couples never travel past the first kind. You and I, on the other hand, were lucky enough to start at the second phase. And I’m not a fan of going backwards.”
“Mind-blowing, huh?” In truth, it had been, for her. But that wasn’t the reason for her question, although she was pleasantly shocked that he thought so, too.
“It’s rare to connect with someone on a level of honesty and trust, but that’s what I felt with you. Right from the beginning, we had a connection. I wasn’t about to screw that up before finding out if you’d felt it, too … and if you feel it, now.”
Jane nodded. “It’s the reason I went back to Vine, the morning after we’d been together—because I felt it. Being with you was like nothing I’d ever experienced, even after eighteen years with my husband. Intimacy is complex. A person can be there without actually … being there.” She thought back to the various scenarios she’d made up in her head, over the years, while having sex with Nick. And yet she’d thought she had a perfectly idyllic life, until she put some distance and time between them.
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