by Jan Moran
It was as if Colin’s real name had stripped away another layer between them, and he put his hand on top of hers. A moment later, he slowly brought her into his arms, and she laid her head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, feeling soothed and satisfied.
She must have fallen asleep like that, because the sound of his cell phone’s generic ring woke her up.
The cotton grip of a hangover was making her perception hazy, because his words seemed to float past her: Jonsey? I’ll be there as soon as I can…
Then she was aware of Colin putting on his clothing and bending down to the bed, his voice flat.
“Go back to sleep, Leticia,” he said.
And she did, until he came back much later.
~*~
When Colin returned to his home, he didn’t go into the bedroom. He was too numb for anything but sitting in front of an old TV in the family room that he didn’t even turn on.
He wished he were drunk, or even hungover. He wished he were anything other than what he was right now: in a total, dark fog.
As dawn crept through the window, he saw Leticia walking out of the hallway. She had wrapped herself in the bed sheet, and the sight of her sent a flicker of happiness through him until it died a quick death.
She saw his face and walked closer—close enough to sit in front of him and place a hand on his knee.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Funny, to have someone he barely knew care enough to ask him that. Last night, Tucker had taken off on his bike to get away from Jonsey’s habitual hijinks, so he hadn’t been around to help Colin out. That brother wasn’t even answering the phone.
“Jonsey,” Colin said to Leticia. “He got into a brawl with some punk in the drunk tank.”
She merely watched him, and he could see that same pain in her eyes that he’d noticed last night when she’d first seen Jonsey making an ass of himself in the Ruby Room, then again when she’d been talking about her brother.
Finally, she spoke. “How is he?”
“Under arrest.” Colin shook his head. “The punk didn’t like the way Jonsey looked, or something like that. Of course, Jon responded in kind, but that’s my brother—he won’t stand to be backed into a corner, and he’ll fight off anyone who tries to put him there. I just can’t help thinking that I’m the one who did the putting.”
“Colin…”
“I know, you told me about Miguel and how he made his own choices, but before my parents passed on, I promised them I’d always take care of Tucker and Jonsey. Even if my youngest brother takes more effort than most, he’s not…”
“A bad seed?” Leticia shook her head. “I’m sure you’re right. Miguel was on the fast track to someplace terrible. But remember what I said about laying this on yourself?”
How could he explain why she was wrong without looking weak? How could he tell her that he was a failure with something as basic as his family and everyone was right about the joker at the Rough & Tumble who wasn’t worth anything?
Leticia’s touch on his leg should’ve felt reassuring, but it didn’t.
“Maybe it’s the luck of Vegas that we ended up together last night,” she said. “Who better to sympathize with what you’re saying than me, Colin?”
When he looked over at her, he saw something genuine in her gaze. It rolled through him, leveling his sadness for a second. This high-maintenance wine consultant had the best chance of understanding him when no one else really did.
But it had to be an illusion. It had to be just another joke.
“You can try to understand,” he said, “but you aren’t like me, Leticia. You never let your brother spend the night in a drunk tank because you wanted to go and get laid.”
Her hand went limp on him, and he knew that, in his frustration, he’d said something awful. It took a second for him to sift through his battered emotions and realize just what had come out of his mouth, but it was already too late.
“I see,” she said, standing up. She was gripping the sheet over her, as if covering so much more than just her body, protecting herself from any other moronic things he might say.
“Shit.” He shook his head. “Leticia, I didn’t—”
“Mean it?” Her laugh was stiff, clearly hurt, even though she was doing her damnedest to hide it. “Don’t worry. It’s not as if last night was an engagement party or something. I’ll leave you alone to deal with this.”
She turned around, and something like panic struck him.
He’d found someone special last night, and it wasn’t only the sex. It was more, like something they had sensed in each other from across the room. Then he had treated her like…
Like something you drank and then spit into one of those buckets she’d told him they kept at wine tastings.
By the time he got to his feet, she had already gone to the kitchen, where her clothing had been discarded, and she was on her way to the hall.
“Leticia…” he said, following her.
“I’m calling a cab, so don’t worry about that, either,” she said, shutting the door to the bathroom before he could say anything else.
But what could he say now? Let’s work this out—I’m really not that much of an asshole.
Except he was.
Even if he’d hoped that this one time, he’d stumbled onto something more than just a good time.
As he walked away, he knew that he’d just blown the best thing that had come into his life—and that he’d probably never had a right to it in the first place.
Chapter 11
The Ruby Room certainly didn’t seem as exciting or elegant as it had the night before, when Leticia had made a birthday wish about the cowboy who had walked through the door.
Now, the signature chandelier seemed to drip with murky stones instead of rubies and crystals, and as Leticia sat in the empty lounge, staring at the fixture, Liz Hughes slid into the booth across from her.
“Oh, honey,” she said. “You either had too much birthday booze last night or your puppy just got hit by a semi.”
“I don’t have a puppy.”
Liz sighed. “That leaves the booze then. Or something much harder to get rid of than a hangover.”
But Leticia didn’t want to talk about Colin, and she straightened in her seat, ready to go over the wine list and food pairings with Liz so they could improve them before they opened tonight. Yet her employer kept measuring her with those beautiful violet eyes that must’ve caught the spotlight on any stage she’d walked as a showgirl.
“Tell me why you’re looking so glum,” Liz said.
Aside from working with Liz, Leticia hadn’t confided personally in her, but the woman was so sweet and open that Leticia found herself responding.
“Have you ever met a guy who was totally wrong for you,” she asked, “but then you found out he was right? But then it turned wrong again?”
Liz’s mouth opened slightly, as if she had guessed that Leticia was talking about Colin. Then she composed herself. “Are you referring to anyone I might know? Because I saw you with a certain cowboy last night. I just don’t want to assume.”
“Assume what? That I left with him to party at the Rough and Tumble?”
“Yes, that.”
“And that I…” A flush overtook Leticia. Even though she’d made some strides in embracing her free side last night, she still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it.
If she’d spent a little more time with Colin, would she eventually have let loose all the way?
But what was the use of even thinking about that? He was her opposite—the beer to her wine, the dusty boots to her designer sling backs. Yet was that really the most important thing you should consider in a person? All she could think about was how they’d fit together last night, how she’d wanted to give him one more hour, one more day…
One more chance.
Liz had been waiting for her to finish the sentence, and she was leaning forward, encouraging Leticia to go on.
She sig
hed. “And that I kind of sort of went home with him?”
Liz pumped her fist. “Yes! I just love Buzz. He’s got a good heart, that guy. I think you two would make a wonderful couple.”
When someone slipped into the booth next to Leticia, she nearly jumped out of her skin. It turned out to be Anita, who’d always had superior hearing, especially back in college when she would eavesdrop on the crummy calls from home whenever Miguel had screwed up yet again. But Leticia had been grateful for that hearing, and for her friend’s support.
“Excuse me,” Anita said. “Am I getting that Buzz is the topic of conversation here? Gigolo Buzz?”
“Not a gigolo,” Leticia said softly.
Anita immediately put an arm around her. “What did he do to you, sweetheart? Did he carry that joke about the gigolo too far and embarrass you?”
“Not quite,” Leticia said.
Liz repeated herself. “Ani, the guy’s got a good heart, and Leticia saw that in him. This has nothing to do with a joke.”
Anita wasn’t having any of that. “Don’t start with all your talk of the stars aligning and fate coming to a head, Liz. If Buzz Burton messed with Leticia at all…”
“He didn’t.” Leticia sighed. “Actually, I was hoping he’d mess with me more, but…”
But he told me that he let the deputy take Jonsey to the drunk tank because he wanted to get laid. Yet saying that out loud felt like throwing Colin under the wheels of an oncoming bus. Beneath all the liveliness, Leticia suspected that he did have a good heart—he just didn’t know what to do with it.
Anita smacked her free hand on the table. “Men!”
Liz rolled her eyes. “Just because you had another relationship go sour doesn’t mean they’re all bad. Remember when you put Ben through the paces with me?”
“And I’m glad I did, because look how it turned out. He knew that if he worked you over, he would have to deal with me.”
They smiled at one another, and Anita held Leticia closer.
“The same goes for you, chica,” she said. “If you think Buzz is a good guy, then I’m here to listen and figure out how to put a smile back on your face. Even if he is a payaso.”
“You don’t have to listen to anything about him,” Leticia said. “There’s nothing between us.”
And so ended this discussion, because she couldn’t sit here ruining her professionalism by crying over Colin while she should be concentrating on the wine list. She’d outlasted other disappointments before, and she would do it again.
She’d just never felt like there’d been this kind of potential with a man, like opposites could not only attract but maybe stay stuck to one another.
Leticia tried a smile and focused on the list, going on with life, tossing last night away like a bottle gone bad.
~*~
Colin had called in a few favors to once again visit Jonsey in his jail cell, and from the looks of his little brother, Colin was glad he’d come a second time.
As with a few hours ago, Jon had a few bruises on his face from the altercation with the punk, and he was hunched over as he sat on his cot, all but blocking Colin out of his sight.
“You still mad at me?” Colin asked.
His brother didn’t say anything.
“You go right ahead and be that way, Jon,” Colin said. “I’m here to see that you didn’t have any latent injuries or if maybe you finally had something to say, but since you’re healthy enough to act ungrateful and sullen, I can go about my business now.”
He was starting to walk away when Jonsey spoke.
“I wish you’d cared this much last night.”
Colin’s temper flared, and he didn’t go anywhere. The rest of the few cells in the corridor were empty, so their voices echoed, almost as if they were punching at one another.
“Believe it or not,” Colin said, “I cared. And I spent some of the night beating myself up for leaving you in here. But why did I bother? I sure as hell don’t know. I get the feeling you might not have learned a thing.”
“I learned enough.”
“Care to enlighten me?”
Jonsey still wasn’t looking at him. “I learned that my fists always fly faster than my brain can put a situation together. That’s what I learned.”
At first, Colin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was this his rebellious little brother swerving dangerously close to an apology?
“Dammit, kid,” Colin said when Jonsey left it at that. “Is that your way of saying you’re sorry?”
“I’m saying that I regret lousing up your night.”
That was as good as a sorry for now, and Colin was about to say that he also regretted how his night had ended, but then he reminded himself that he’d been the one who’d made a dumbass comment to Leticia, not Jonsey. It’d been Colin who had chased her away, and it was his pride that had kept him from going after her. It was his fear that he’d proven himself to be the jackhole everyone thought he was, and he’d made certain that she believed it.
After she’d left, as the hours had worn on and he’d stared at the empty side of the bed next to him, he’d realized that he’d wanted to talk to her more about Jon, that he wanted someone with her kind of sense to help him clear things up. But she was gone now, and there would never be any more potential between them.
Jonsey finally lifted his head a little, aiming his voice toward Colin. “I spent the night blaming you because I was smacked around by that thug they put me in the holding tank with. I told myself that I didn’t belong here, and you should’ve kept me out. Then I thought about how Pop would’ve hung his head to see me now.”
Colin had told Jon to mull that over just before the deputy had put him in the car. “Pop would’ve been disappointed with me, too, but it’s because I waited so long to do anything about your propensity to get in the shit.”
He recalled how Leticia had told him not to blame himself, but he still couldn’t help it. He could only wonder if he might’ve absorbed what she’d said with more time, and if he could’ve learned anything else from her. What could he have taught her in return, though?
The memory of her sitting on the bar at the Rough & Tumble with her legs carelessly swinging back and forth swept over him. She’d seemed so free. Could he at least have given her that?
It ate at him that he wouldn’t ever know what else could’ve been on the horizon with her, and it was because of his frustration with who he wanted to be but wasn’t.
Jonsey looked all the way up at him with the blue eyes that everyone in their family had: father and sons. An inheritance. A trait of their bloodline, just as surely as their impulsive streaks.
“I’m gonna change,” Jon said. “I swear that to you, Buzz. From this day on, you won’t have to worry about pulling me out of another cell. After last night, I’ve decided it’s not a place I want to spend any more time. I’m already as sick of it as you are.”
Colin swallowed, then nodded. All it’d taken was a big brother who finally made Jonsey toe the line. Congratulations.
“But even worse than the drunk tank,” Jon said, “was that look you had on your face when the law took me away.” His eyes held a sheen of emotion. “Mostly, I don’t ever want to see that again.”
Colin could hardly believe it. But did Jon mean it? And had Colin, himself, meant it last night when he’d thought about a new beginning, too?
As Jonsey went back to hanging his head, Colin realized that he didn’t ever want to be in this position again—not with Jon, and not with himself.
And there was one place he needed to go in order to keep that from happening.
Chapter 12
It was two hours before opening time at the Ruby Room, and Leticia was wrapping everything up so she could move on to her next gig.
She glanced around the lounge: the fun and chintzy faux leopard skin on the sofas in the corners, the Persian-patterned rugs, the seductive and chic red glass candleholders on all the tables. But last of all, she gazed at the doorway,
where Colin had sauntered in last night, as rugged as an emerging fantasy come to life.
Heat ran down her skin like fingertips, reminding her of the pure joy she’d found with him for such a short time. But maybe this should be a lesson—romance and love weren’t going to just happen to her. She was going to have to put a lot of work into it, as much as she’d invested in her schooling and her career.
Love might come to her someday, but it had nothing to do with getting one wonderful taste of a man and deciding that she wanted more of him.
As she wandered into the dining room in search of Liz and Anita so she could say a final goodbye, the staff was polishing every last table and erecting the folded napkins into shapes that resembled cut jewels. The Ruby Room was going to do good business, she thought, and she should take pride that she’d played even a small part in that.
At least she could leave with that much going for her…
When she thought she heard boot steps echoing somewhere in the establishment, plus the low tenor of Colin’s voice, she closed her eyes, hoping… But she knew she was only wishing he was here. He’d jilted her pretty convincingly, and she needed to move on.
And she would…soon.
She left the dining room, wondering if she should text Liz or Anita to see where they were, and she nearly bumped into Anita.
Her friend’s brown hair was swept into a style that left a few curls hanging down her neck, stray tendrils that fluttered with the air conditioning. Her eyes, fringed by those false lashes she always wore, were bigger than usual, as if Leticia had caught her by surprise.
“There you are,” Leticia said.
“Here I am.” Anita laughed, and it was somehow forced.
Leticia knew her well enough from nights in the dorms to realize when Anita was hiding something, whether it was a boy behind a door or a tequila bottle under the bed.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Anita paused, then came out with it. “Before you go, would you do me a favor? A shipment of chianti arrived, and I’m pretty sure it’s not what we ordered. It’s in the cellar, so could you take a quick look? Then I’ll see you off.”