Sylvia gave Escala a dirty look as he opened up his cell phone and hit a number. She prayed that he wasn’t calling Mano. If he were, then things were going to get pretty damn bad, quickly.
“What an asshole. I had no idea he’d be here today. He and his crew have been causing nothing but trouble. They’ll be behind bars soon enough.”
“Sylvia, he’s here to get his product. With all the money him and his brothers are making, he doesn’t have to live in the old neighborhood.”
“So you know he’s making a lot of money now? I used to think he did it to get you back and impress you, Amelia.”
“Impress me? He doesn’t care about me and you know it. Men suck. They want what’s between our legs, and I was stupid to fall for his lies, his talk about caring for me. I got over the great sex after the first beating I took from him.”
“Well that was then. This is now. You know, I heard that they hosted a fight last week and some guy nearly died, Mano beat him so badly.” Amelia stared at Sylvia and felt the tightness in her chest. Her brother Kyle had died at an illegal fight that should have been stopped. She had no idea he was even going.
“Come on, my grandmother can’t wait to see you. She made your favorite dish, too. Pastelón.” Sylvia hugged Amelia’s arm to her side.
“Oh, I love that.” She could practically taste the sweet plantain and beef lasagna.
“Well my grandmother loves you. She can’t believe that you’re leaving New York. I wish I could go to Houston with you. Leave this shit hole neighborhood, but my abuela needs me. It sounds amazing, though. I’m so proud of you.”
They climbed the stairs to the fourth-floor apartment. Amelia hadn’t been here in a while. Her fear of bumping into Mano kept her away. Go figure that Escala would be here to annoy her. The gym they worked out at, unfortunately, was right around the corner.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Sylvia asked, as if she read Amelia’s thoughts.
“Hurt me?” She shook her head. “Hurting me would have been if he pulled a Mano on me. Anything else, I can handle.”
“Well maybe you’ll meet a nice guy in Houston? Maybe a cowboy?”
“No, thank you. I’m staying away from military men, cowboys, and any guy who is intimidating in the least. No dominant characters, no fighters, no aggressive men with tattoos or anything that remotely reminds me of New York.”
“So you want to settle for some nerdy wimp then, huh? Don’t be crazy. Just because a man seems intimidating and dominant doesn’t mean he’ll use his fists on a woman. You just got caught up in a bad situation because Mano was your brother’s friend.”
“Mano was my brother Kyle’s supplier for his habit. A habit that eventually killed him, along with one of Mano’s illegal boxing matches.”
They reached the top of the stairs and headed down the narrow hallway to the fourth door on the right.
“My grandma said that Mano and Escala’s uncle is trying to get Mano a fight in Vegas or Reno. He’s lining up a bunch of them.”
“Good for him. I hate boxing, ultimate fighting or whatever and anyone involved in doing it.”
The door opened and the wonderful smell hit Amelia’s nostrils. She smiled as Grandma Lopez opened her arms wide to greet her.
Practically falling into the older woman’s embrace, Amelia hugged her tight, wanting to absorb the feel of her hug and the sweet smell of her perfume. She wished she had a grandma like her. She wished she had family to love her and protect her.
“You look gorgeous. You stay away too long, chica.”
Amelia smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “I needed to. The kitchen smells amazing. Is that Pastelón I smell?” she asked.
“Sí. Just for you. Now sit, so I can enjoy your company before you leave for Houston.”
Grandma Lopez took Amelia’s hand into her own and froze in place. She flipped her hand over, ran one finger gently over the palm of her hand, almost making Amelia laugh. She was very ticklish.
She also felt a bit on edge. Grandma Lopez was a bit of a fortune-teller. Sylvia swore her grandmother was never wrong.
“Something special waits for you in Houston, Amelia. Something that will challenge all your fears, and all your decisions. But the love of many is strong. Stronger than all the fears and uncertainty.”
What?
“Sit and eat. You’re going to need your strength.”
Amelia looked at Sylvia who shrugged her shoulders and took a seat next to Amelia.
“As long as it doesn’t involve any man, I should be fine,” Amelia said and Sylvia chuckled as Grandma Lopez placed the large platter of food onto the table.
“Men, is more like it,” she said then winked.
Amelia was shocked and then looked at Sylvia who appeared just as surprised then laughed.
“Men, huh, Grandma? I may just have to follow Amelia to Houston.”
Grandma Lopez nodded her head then took a seat.
“It takes a special woman to love more than one man at once. Amelia will be just fine.” Grandma Lopez covered Amelia’s hand, giving it a squeeze.
Amelia was shocked. Loving more than one man? Did she mean that I am destined to fall in and out of love numerous times or did she mean love numerous men literally at once?
That didn’t sit well at all. Especially since her best friend Regan came from an area in Houston where ménage relationships were of the norm. In fact, Regan’s parents were three fathers and their wife, Elise, Regan’s mom.
Oh God, please tell me this isn’t going to come true?
They sat in silence until Grandma Lopez began telling them a story of the love between three men and one woman in Puerto Rico.
Amelia was totally submerged into the story. Not solely because of the erotic, sexual appeal of being loved by three men, but by the description of love, and respect of all involved. Amelia learned the hard way that love and respect weren’t fear, but something reciprocated.
If only finding true love and happiness were so easy? Not with a broken heart and scars that ran so deep. Love just wasn’t in her future. Not by a long shot.
Chapter 1
Waylon “Sniper” Haas rubbed his eyes as he walked along the corridor in the airport on his way to the parking lot. He’d left his truck there, before he left for Vegas. As he rounded the corner of the walkway, he immediately caught notice of a young woman struggling with her bag, a cell phone, and a suitcase on wheels. He wondered if her front side looked as perfect as her backside. Damn, did the woman have a great ass and long sexy legs. He paused as she struggled toward the curb, her long black hair pulled back in a ponytail, jumped from one shoulder to the next, with a flip from her hand.
Suddenly her bag fell.
He immediately moved closer to assist her.
“Need some help, honey?”
She abruptly turned around, looking up toward him, and her mouth dropped open. She had a beautiful mouth. It was sensual, ripe, and currently glossy. Her great big brown eyes were as large as saucers as she took in his size. He felt a tinge of something in his gut. Holy fuck, she’s gorgeous.
“No. No. I’m good. Thank you,” she stated abruptly with attitude and a New York accent that said “back off asshole” with every word released from her sexy lips.
“I don’t bite. Let me help you.” He began to pull the items back into her suitcase. As his fingers made contact with a silky red bra, she grabbed it from his hands. Their gazes locked and he chuckled.
He usually didn’t respond well to most women. It was strange, but he felt instantly attracted to this woman, and he didn’t even know who she was.
He kept his sex casual and one night only. He didn’t sleep over with the woman. He just did his business, found his release, and moved on. He didn’t sleep with the same woman twice. Looking this sweet, young, sexy thing over, he wondered if she would be up for it. Instantly his gut roared “no fucking way.” This one was innocent and sweet. He wasn’t that much of a bastard.
She quickly
pulled her things together and then stood up. He realized immediately why her eyes were still wide and why she was taking a few steps away from him.
“I was just helping you out.”
“I said I didn’t need help, but thank you.”
She stared at him, looking at his lips and then his face. A scowl appeared on it, and he suddenly felt guilty. Like a kid who brawled in the schoolyard, caused the fight, got the black eye, then came home to explain what happened to his mother.
What the hell?
“What?” he asked her with attitude as she clutched her bags tighter.
“Who beat you up?” she asked in a whisper then swallowed. She was intimated by him, yet she copped an attitude.
He looked her body over and saw her pretty little nipples press against the fabric of her blouse. The woman was built well. Kind of top heavy for someone so petite. He felt confident that she found him attractive, despite the bruises. He didn’t know why he instigated an argument. He didn’t chase women. He liked being alone and not committing, or rather connecting, to anyone. It hurt too badly when they left.
“What makes you think I was beaten up?”
A pretty pink blush spread across her cheeks as she looked him over then turned away.
“Are you looking for a ride?” he asked.
She clutched her things tighter. “Get lost. I don’t need a ride. My friend is coming. She’ll be here any minute.”
He wanted to laugh. She was scared of him. That thought hit home hard. He sometimes forgot about how big he was, and of course having a black eye, bruised cheekbone, and two hours’ sleep probably made him look scary.
“Good. Have good night,” he said to her, and she nodded her head as he turned to walk away. He couldn’t resist looking back. He wasn’t certain why he did. Well his cock sure the shit knew why. The woman was youthful, gorgeous, and sexy. It was two o’clock in the morning and she still looked good and naturally beautiful. She didn’t have on a lot of makeup and she wasn’t dressed as if all she cared about was money.
He looked her over and then she turned toward him. He winked and gave her a smile as he looked her over again and her pretty brown eyes turned into saucers again.
He chuckled aloud for the first time in a long time as he headed to the parking lot.
Maybe she was way younger than he thought. Perhaps thinking of her tonight when he finally got into bed would help him to sleep.
* * * *
Sniper opened his eyes and rubbed them as he sat on the side of his bed wishing he had gotten more sleep. His flight from Vegas hadn’t gotten in until two this morning, and then he drove out to the house to get some much-needed rest. This last fighting event was a long one. The final match against some crazy kid from Philly was rough. Now Sniper’s jaw ached and he had some bruising along his eye bone and cheek. As he rubbed his hands against his face, he cringed as his long, thick fingers made contact with the bruises.
He immediately thought of the sexy, black-haired beauty at the airport. His bruises obviously scared her. Not that he even knew who she was, or that he would ever see her again. He didn’t date. He didn’t do commitments. A young woman, as classy and sweet as she looked, despite her centerfold body, wouldn’t last with him. Even if he was willing to date. A one-night stand to cure an itch was enough. The beauty from the airport was not one-night-stand material.
He shook his head, wondering why the heck he was even thinking about her.
He stood up and stretched out his six-foot-four frame. He should really eat some breakfast, go for a run, then hit the gym for a few hours, but he was tired. He could hear the voices coming from the kitchen. It seemed that he wasn’t the only one left in the house this late in the morning. The Haas Ranch had become his home the moment Sam, Jordan, Tysen, and Elise had adopted him and his brother Brody when they were kids. The Haas brothers had become their fathers instantly, and their love, their firm hand and upbringing kept Waylon and Brody out of trouble and safe to live like a kid should live. They learned fast that a work ethic was important in succeeding in life, and the Haas brothers enforced that big-time. He smirked at the thought. He had been a bit resistant in his youth. He was eight and Brody was six when they adopted them. It was tough, but Elise, their mom, was an angel, a woman with a heart of gold and strength of steel.
The ranch was run by his fathers Sam, Jordan, and Tysen Haas.
Then he heard his brother, Mad Dog’s voice. Mad Dog Murphy was the oldest Haas brother. Then there was Ricky, also known as Scar, and then their sisters Regan and Velma. Murphy was carrying on now. Something about Regan being seen at Hucker’s Dance Hall. He worried about their sister. Regan, Velma, Murphy, and Ricky meant everything to him and Brody.
Was that why the cottage out back was locked up? His key hadn’t worked, so he headed to the main house and took the guest bedroom. The cottage was his and his brother’s.
Standing up, he walked toward the bathroom to wash up. After pulling a pair of blue jeans on and tossing on a black T-shirt, he headed out to the kitchen.
“What the hell is all the ruckus about?” he asked.
“Sniper! Shit, did big mouth Mad Dog wake you up?” Ricky asked.
“What the hell do you think, Scar?” Sniper snapped at him as he made his way to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee.
“Morning, Mamma,” he whispered to his mom who was standing by the stove cooking up loads of bacon and flapjacks.
“Morning, son. Oh darn, you’re a bit bruised up.” She reached for his face but Waylon turned away. He saw the instant sadness reach his mother’s eyes, but she should know by now that he hated affection and human contact. In the ring things were different. He could release all the anger inside of him and fight those memories of the past.
He glanced at the table. All of his brothers were there. All of them looked the same. Mean, intimidating, and cocked and ready for a fight.
“You win or you lose?” Brody, who was always cold as ice, asked without looking up from his plate of food.
“What do you think, Ice?” Sniper replied to him.
Ice responded with a grunt.
“Well you should win. You’ve got fists of steel.” Mad Dog Murphy added. He was a hard-ass through and through. He was thirty-six years old and involved in the ranch, real estate, and construction. He lived to work and Waylon knew for a fact that Murphy didn’t date either. None of the brothers did. They all fought too many emotions, too much fear of getting close then losing someone. Especially Waylon and Brody.
“So you heard about Regan?” Ricky “Scar” Haas asked as he leaned back and looked at Sniper.
“Is that what all the yelling was about?” Sniper asked as he sat down and his mom placed a plate of food down in front of him. He felt his stomach growl. He was starving.
“Leave it be, Murphy,” Elise stated firmly.
The phone rang and Elise walked over to answer it.
“They’re eating. Murphy and Ricky are almost finished. They’ll help you.” Sniper heard his mother say and he knew she was talking to the dads.
“We’re moving, Mom. We heard,” Ricky said as he cleared his plate then placed it in the sink. Mad Dog stood up and shook his head.
“We’ll talk about this later. I’m heading into town and going to have a talk with Regan. She can’t be flaunting herself all over men like Galen Thomas.”
“Galen Thomas?” Sniper asked, nearly spitting out his coffee. Galen was a troublemaker and then some. He was into things their sister shouldn’t be around.
“Exactly,” Mad Dog said then put on his Stetson and walked out of the house. Ricky followed him.
Sniper looked at Ice. “What’s this all about, Brody? Is Regan seeing Galen?”
“Don’t know.”
“Where is she today?”
“Helping Amelia get situated around town,” their mom stated.
“Amelia is here?” Sniper asked.
“She came in late last night, I think. She took a job with the hosp
ital as a program director. We haven’t seen her yet. She’s supposed to come out here this weekend for dinner. They have plans tonight.”
“Regan won’t have any plans once Murphy gets through with her. So when did this happen? Amelia coming out here for work?” He hadn’t met the girl, but heard a lot about her from his parents, Regan, and his little sister Velma. Well, Velma wasn’t so little anymore. She was turning twenty-one in a couple of weeks.
“Amelia called her a couple of weeks ago. She flew out for the interview, got offered the job, and then told Regan. She didn’t want to get Regan all excited if she hadn’t been offered the job,” Elise told him.
“I bet Regan is really happy. Regan talked about her nonstop in her letters to all of us,” he said without thinking. As the words left his mouth, he felt the twinge of sadness. He and his four brothers had been gone for a good eight years in the military. They nearly lost Ricky. But the Haas men were tough.
“She is incredibly happy. They’re going out tonight. Regan wants to show her the hot spots of Houston. She’ll be staying with her for a little while, until Amelia finds a place of her own.” Elise chuckled as she cleaned up from breakfast.
“We’re going to Hucker’s. It’s Cap’s party,” Brody said then rose from his seat.
“What time?” Waylon asked.
“Eight. We’ll drive out together.”
He watched Brody leave then stared out the wide window in the kitchen that looked over the Haas land. He could see his fathers and brothers and the other ranch hands. He felt the itch to go riding. To let his mind be free of the fighting and the stress.
“You okay, honey?” his mom asked.
She looked hesitant, but standing by the window, with the sunlight cascading her frame, she appeared angelic. Their mom was a good woman. A dying breed.
He wondered if he and his brothers would ever find peace. Would they always be so uptight, on edge, and ready to fight? Other soldiers flowed right back into civilian life with more ease. Not them. Not the Haas brothers. They were known as fierce men. People knew to keep their distance.
The American Soldier Collection 5: The Greatest Fight of All (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 2