“You’re welcome.” Ricky leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest. “Now let’s eat. I’m starving.”
3
“Kingman?” Ricky groaned and slapped his hand against the steering wheel. He glared up at the Bluetooth mic like his brother would see his annoyance. “What do you mean we’re going to Kingman? When?”
“In the morning.”
“As in tomorrow morning? Oh, hell, no. One of our conditions was that you had to give me notice. You agreed.”
“I am!” A deep, frustrated breath whistled through the phone. “I only got the contract this afternoon. It’s an entire house. No packing, just moving. Huge profit.”
Ricky eased his SUV into the garage and closed the door. His brother didn’t say anything. Ricky didn’t either. Just strolled into his house and dumped his gym bag in the laundry room. Damn, he needed a maid. He didn’t suck too bad at the cleaning the house thing, but laundry? He sucked big time.
“You gonna help me or not?”
“Yeah.” He opened the fridge and sniffed the milk. The stench nearly brought him to his knees. “What time?”
“I’ll pick you up at five.”
“In the morning?” His voice cracked.
“Yep. See you then.”
The line went dead and Ricky dumped the white curdled chunks down the drain, turning on the garbage disposal for good measure.
He seriously needed a maid!
***
The next morning the low grumble of a diesel engine and annoying ahooga! announced Ricky’s day had started. He grabbed a couple granola bars and bottles of water, shoving his stash in a backpack, and headed out the front door.
Eddie waved from the driver’s seat. His smile seemed genuine. As Ricky climbed into the passenger seat, Eddie shifted the truck into reverse and backed down the driveway. Ricky worried a little about his pavers, but shook it off, deciding it wasn’t worth getting into it just before a long road trip. Because Eddie would only argue that Ricky had plenty of money to fix them.
His brother took a sip of his coffee. “Check out the sunrise.”
Ricky looked toward the east and took in the expanse of pink and yellow. “Beautiful.”
“I get to see it almost every day.”
“How wonderful for you.”
Eddie snorted. “Get up on the wrong side of the bed?”
“I shouldn’t have gotten up on any side of the bed yet.” He sighed and opened a bottle of water. “It’s the freakin’ butt-crack of dawn.”
Eddie’s guffaw bounced around the cab of the truck. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
***
“My room’s all packed up.” Matt walked into Shayne’s bedroom, twirling a nearly finished roll of packing tape on his finger. “We’re almost out of boxes.”
“It’s a good thing we’re almost done.” She shoved the last of their movie collection into a box. “Tape her up.”
The ripping stretch of the tape made Shayne jump. Every time she looked in the mirror, she expected to see an exposed nerve staring back at her. Boxing up and leaving the home where she’d found true happiness was a specialized form of torture. She had nobody to blame but herself. That’s what made the situation even worse.
Up until this point, she’d managed to stay strong for Matt, keeping her emotions in check, hiding how she felt, holding it together until she could cry herself to sleep every night. Her kid wasn’t stupid, though. Nor was he clueless. He knew what this move meant and he’d done his best to make it easy on her. He seemed honestly excited about the prospects of relocating. That made one of them.
As she watched him tape up yet another box, he brushed the hair off his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving an adorable smudge. He bent over and, with a grin, pushed the box over to the stack by the front door. He turned and gave her a thumbs up.
“Love you, Mom!”
He hustled down the hall, jumping to tap the arch with his fingertips. Heaven help her, she would even miss cleaning his fingerprints off the ceiling.
She let her eyes wander around the living room. Man, this old place held so many memories. The darkened spot on the carpet where Matt dropped a bowl of Spaghetti-O’s. The chipped tile in the middle of the countertop where she’d dropped the hot jar when Grammy taught her how to make homemade jam. Shayne noticed the bright walls with the dimmed spots where photos had been removed. She could still see every smiling face. Her heart swelled with anguished love.
A tear splashed onto her thigh. She cleared her throat, wiped at her nose and blinked. A lot. She would not allow herself to break down. Not now. If she lost it now, she’d never regain her composure.
She heard the thundering of footsteps from down the hall and the rumble of the diesel engine outside in unison. Another arch slap and Matt grinned.
“They’re here!”
A soft squeak of brakes sounded before the engine quieted. Matt ran over to the front door and whipped it open. It whacked the wall, bouncing back about halfway.
Shayne plastered a fake smile on her face and strolled over to the door just in time to hear Matt say, “Holy shit!”
“Matt!”
He jerked his head toward her, offered a quick, “Sorry,” over his shoulder, then took off on a dead run toward the truck.
Her disapproval at her son’s burst of profanity drained, like the blood out of her face, when Enrique Santiago stepped out of the moving van. She muttered a, “Holy shit,” of her own.
Ricky smiled at Matt and held out his hand in greeting. The two talked for a second. Matt waved his arm for Ricky to follow him and they crossed the grass. “Mom! Ricky’s here to help us move.”
Shayne didn’t try to hide her frown. “Really?”
“Don’t try to make me sound noble, kid.” Ricky ruffled Matt’s hair. He flashed her a smile, all white teeth and sexy charm. She saw his next move in his dark eyes and stood frozen as he stepped forward. She held her breath. His arms went around her, cuddling her against the hard planes of his chest.
With arms braced against her sides, she couldn’t move. Not that she would have hugged him back if she could have. She didn’t enjoy the sudden need to have him hold her forever. She certainly didn’t feel comfort, not from Enrique Santiago. She didn’t like the soothing stroke of his huge hands over her back. Or the light press of his lips against her cheek.
Nope, she didn’t like a single bit of it.
Except as the solid strength of his embrace battered her every defense, she felt herself melting. She buried her face in his chest just in time to muffle the sobs that came bubbling up from recesses better left unexplored.
His hold tightened, opening the flood gates. Shayne tried to choke back her emotions, only to blubber like a fool.
“Mom?”
One of Ricky’s hands left her back and she felt his body shift in a dismissive gesture. He guided her into the house, closing the door softly behind them. He let her take the lead, holding her hard because she held onto him for dear life.
“Let it out. It’s okay, I’m here.”
She chuckled soggily, pulling back to look at his handsome face. “That makes it worse.”
He really had a terrific smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” She really didn’t. Not with him. She didn’t know anything about him, except that he played baseball, annoyed the shit out of her brother, was sexy as sin, and made her think about white picket fences and happily ever after. Crap she didn’t need to concern herself with!
She put the width of the living room between them and rounded the kitchen island to start wiping down the countertop. “I don’t need you.”
He jerked as though she’d slapped him.
“Sorry.” She scrubbed at an invisible stain. “That didn’t come out right. I don’t need anyone. It was real nice of you to come with the moving company, but—”
“I am the moving company.”
Surprise made her look at him. “What?”
“I own
it.” He lifted one shoulder. “Half of it, at least.” He pointed toward the front of the house. “Santiago and Sons. I’m one of the sons, my brother is the other. He does most of the work while I’m off playing. But yeah, I own it.”
He sounded angry, bitter, but not at her. She watched, barely breathing, as he began to pace the length of the living room. His eyes darted to the large picture window. Despite his calm, cool, and collected, things weren’t all peachy keen in his life either it seemed.
“I didn’t know this job would be you, Shayne.” He stopped pacing and folded his arms. The look he shot her gave her a good idea of what a pinned insect felt like. “If I had, I would have been here days ago to help you pack.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Maybe not, but you’ve got it.”
“You can cut the chivalrous crap, okay? Like I said, I don’t need it. I’ve been on my own for a long time and I can handle it myself.”
“But you shouldn’t have to.”
She threw the rag down on the counter, where it landed with a soggy slap. Angry breaths punched from her lungs. She faced him and popped her hands on her hips, facing off with him.
“You know it’s been a very long time for me and you’re hot. I’m not gonna lie, I got an itch I’d love for you to scratch. You want in my pants, all you have to do is say so. ‘Cause I gotta say, it’d be a whole lot less annoying if you’d stop tryin’ so damn hard to be charming.” She tossed him a saucy wink. “Come get me, big boy. We can use the counter. It’s clean. We’ll be quick, then we can both get on with our lives.”
His eyes flew wide, his mouth dropped open, his big body tensed. She expected an outburst, flying curse words or sugary apologies, instead his chest expanded, deflated, his eyes closed, lips pursed. He shook his head and his dark eyes opened to radiate a cold anger that made her shiver. His fists tightened at his sides then he turned on his heel and stalked out the door.
***
Ricky had never been so furious in his life. It took every ounce of self control he possessed not to rip the door off its hinges. Shayne was a hell of a woman. Her little diatribe told him more about her than he’d gathered in the entire time he’d known her. Which wasn’t very long, he admitted.
When he’d kissed her at the wedding, she’d said it’d been a long time. He liked that. Honestly, her lack of recent sexual exploitations made him like her even more. But the way she’d communicated her willingness to…
Good hell, he should not be turned on right now!
He jogged down the front steps and rounded the back of the truck to yank the back door open. The doors on the cab opened and closed then Matt and Eddie appeared.
“Is my mom okay?”
Ricky forced a smile. “Yeah, kid, she’s under a lot of stress and sometimes women just need a good cry.”
The shake of his head said he didn’t buy that. “Not my mom. Not in front of anybody anyway. She’s um…private.”
Well, she was good and pissed off, too. And horny, apparently.
Eddie cleared his throat. “We ready to get moving some boxes?”
Ricky tried not to meet his brother’s questioning expression, but refused to cower. He looked up…and whatdyaknow, among the expected irritation concern loomed.
“Yeah.” He nodded and put his hand on Matt’s nape. “Come on, kid, let’s get you moved.”
Ricky had to admit; he was impressed. He didn’t move a lot of people, but the ones he had made his job a cluster with odd shaped boxes or dresser drawers full of clothes to move. Shayne had everything organized and labeled. The little bit of furniture she had went in easily. Filling in the holes with the boxes took no time at all.
“All done.” Eddie tugged the back door down and locked it into place.
Shayne stood on the front lawn with her arms wrapped around her middle. She looked so fragile, like she kept from splintering into a million pieces by force of will alone. Ricky wanted to go to her, but knew his comfort wasn’t welcome. He did have some pride left.
Matt raced out the front door, leapt off the porch. “Can I ride in the truck?”
Eddie and Ricky exchanged a look. Eddie tipped his chin in a nod. Ricky jerked his in a silent no. Eddie grinned and Ricky bit his tongue to keep from cursing.
Eddie waved at Matt. “It’s okay with me if it’s okay with your mom. There’re only two seats, though, so—”
“Ricky, you can ride with my mom.”
So much for his pride. Ricky glanced at Shayne in time to catch her look of disgust before she hid it behind a smile. An unladylike snort accompanied the eye roll. “Whatever.”
He had to knock on the window to get her to unlock the door. When her hand hesitated, he wondered if she’d let him in. Who was he kidding? She might let him into her vehicle, but never into her life. She didn’t need him.
And why the hell did he even care?
Damned if he knew.
But he couldn’t ditch the intense desire to protect her.
He quickly learned the frigid temperature of her SUV had nothing to do with the air-conditioner and everything to do with her opinion of who currently rode shotgun.
Staring out the passenger window, Ricky inwardly groaned. This was going to be the longest hour and a half of his life.
***
Enrique hadn’t said a word to her since… Well, since she’d all but ripped his clothes off in her kitchen. As the condescending proposition came out of her mouth, she’d wanted to slap herself.
As if falling apart and sobbing like a freakin’ idiot wasn’t bad enough, she’d asked him to scratch her itch.
Mental face-palm.
Good grief! What the heck was wrong with her? Never mind, she told herself, don’t answer that.
Minutes ticked by. She tried not to think about Ricky, which meant she thought about the direction of her SUV. She hated crossing the bridge that meant Arizona filled her rearview. This time, especially, because she also left her life behind. No, that wasn’t true. She watched the big box truck cruising along in front of her and realized her life was in that truck. Matt and his happiness were the only things important to her. Just the way it’d always been.
Ricky cleared his throat and shifted in the passenger seat. She chanced a glance out the corner of her eye. His eyes were closed, dark lashes resting on olive-toned cheeks. The muscles of his biceps flexed under his white t-shirt as he situated himself.
She focused on the road and cleared her own throat, mostly to push her heart back into her chest where it thumped painfully. Before she lost her nerve, she blurted, “I’m sorry.”
His barely noticeable nod accompanied his grunt. And that pissed her off.
“I don’t get it.” She slapped the steering wheel instead of him.
His eyes opened, but made no other motion. “And what don’t you get, sweetheart?”
“What do you want from me?”
He stared out the windshield, completely motionless except for the muscle jumping in his jaw. “Is it so hard to believe that I find you fascinating, that I want to get to know you better, that I want to see if I could fall in love with you?”
She gasped, unable to stop it.
He turned to look at her. His hands dropped down onto his thighs, his palms rubbing against his knees. “Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic. Got your attention though.” He grinned. “Can’t you consider for one second that you might come to like me?”
“I do like—”
“Am I such a horrible guy?”
She didn’t mention that her brother thought so. “I don’t know you.”
“But you’d let me screw you? Nice, real frickin’ nice.” His fingers curled into fists.
“You don’t know me.” Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, turning her knuckles white.
“That’s exactly the point, Shayne.” His breath sounded like a gale force wind in the quiet car. “I want to get to know you. Look, give me one date. That’s all I ask. Give me a chance. One date
.”
His honesty floored her, yet felt like a breath of fresh air. In the past, her limited experience with guys included lies and crude come-ons.
“Okay. One date. Give me a week or so to get settled, okay?”
His smile softened her heart, warmed her from the inside out and when he reached over to take hold of her hand, she welcomed the contact.
In that moment, she approached the edge of the cliff, her toes digging into the loose gravel. She had no intention of taking the free-fall, but she might like looking over the edge.
4
Had it really been a week and a half since they’d made the move to Las Vegas? Shayne had to admit she liked living in the city. Matt had already made a couple of friends, so he was happy as a clam. Her brother and Frankie had been great, giving her space when she needed it, being the supportive, loving family when she needed that.
Enrique hadn’t called. She didn’t concentrate too much on the disappointment in the pit of her stomach when the ringing phone wasn’t him.
“Hurry, bud!” she yelled down the hall toward Matt’s bedroom. “Frankie expects us for dinner in an hour.”
Matt sauntered down the hall, grin in place. “Is Uncle X barbecuing tonight?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“I was hoping he could teach me how.” Matt grabbed his Rockets hat off the counter and slapped it on his head. “Hurry, Mom, we’re going to be late.”
She laughed. “Somebody should really kick your butt.”
He put his hand on the top of her head. “Too bad you’re so short.”
She reached out to smack his behind, but he hopped out of the way and raced toward the front door, leaving it wide open. “Come on!”
Her giggles chased him down the hall. She met him at the elevator and shook her head when he stuck his tongue out at her reflection.
They got into the elevator and he pushed the button for the parking garage. The doors opened and a wave of heat enveloped them. She groaned. Matt took off across the garage. All gangly arms and legs, he jumped to slap each support beam.
Lucky 13 (Deadlines & Diamonds) Page 3