by Tara West
“Hey, Teeny!”
Doesn’t he remember how much I hate that nickname? It’s okay when Ty calls me Teeny, but when Jackson says it in that nasal whine, I feel the urge to choke someone, namely Jackson.
“Hey,” I answer back in a bored tone. Maybe he’ll take the hint now is not a good time.
“I got a job lined up. I start in January. It’s mid six figures.”
Okay, so he called to brag. Maybe Jackson hasn’t changed much this past year. “Good for you,” I answer, willing him to see me rolling my eyes through the phone.
“This is your last semester, right?”
“Yeah.” I wonder where the heck he’s going with this.
“So….” He trails off, and I can tell he’s stalling. I wonder what kind of bomb Jackson James plans to dump on me. It’s not like my life doesn’t have enough drama. “You still seeing that Mexican dude?”
Oh, fuck. I had to have known this was coming. I’m tempted to lie to him, but I choose a bitchier route instead. “Why do you care?”
“Look, I’m just going to come out and say it. I’ve missed you.” His whine is so pronounced, I swear he’s swallowed a police siren. “A lot. Tyson misses you, too. He’s always asking for you. He needs a mom, Teeny.”
I quirk a brow, trying to focus on the heavy I-35 traffic while trying to shovel in all of Jackson’s bullshit. “Did you just say Tyson?”
“I-I meant Tyler,” he stutters. “I’m always getting those names mixed up. Come on, Teeny. We’ve finally got the chance to give him real parents.”
Am I really getting a marriage proposal via Bluetooth?
“He’s got your parents.”
“My dad is suffocating him. Seriously. The kid’s got a chef, a nurse, and a nanny. It’s freaking ridiculous.”
Oh, yeah, he’s definitely swallowed a police siren, or else his balls have shrunk another inch, which would mean he’d need a microscope to see them.
“You selfish asshole! You really are jealous of Ty, aren’t you?”
“N-n-no!”
Has he always been this bad of a liar, or wasn’t I smart enough to see through his ruse before? I thought Jackson had changed, if only a little, but now I see he’s just gotten worse. Too bad. Poor Ty deserves a better father. And now I realize what Andrés has been telling me all along. These visits with Ty have simply been Jackson’s way of trying to get me back, and I don’t think he’s ever going to change. As much as the realization hurts me, I know I can no longer visit Ty if it means I’ve got to put up with his father. My only consolation is that Tyler’s grandparents love him, and I know they’ll make sure he’s taken care of.
“You can’t even remember his name,” I growl. “You know what, Jackson? When I gave back that ring, I meant it. Now leave me alone. Oh, and go see a dentist. Your freaking breath is terrible.”
I almost want to tell him to get a penis enlargement, too, but I hang up and grind my teeth while doing ten miles an hour down the freeway. A pain slices up my chest when I realize I’ve lost my only connection to sweet little Ty. Today has gone from shitty to shittier, and I fear it may only get worse.
* * *
As I pull into the drive to Andrés’s uncle’s ranch, I don’t know what I’m going to say. All I know is I need to know why he thinks I’m back with Jackson and why he’d go sleep with sluts in Mexico after all we’ve shared together. After I get my answers, I will walk away.
I see tons of cars and trucks parked in front of the house. His entire extended family must be visiting for the holidays. Oh joy, we’ll probably have an audience. Might as well make a spectacle of myself in front of as many people as possible.
When I get out of the car, my hands are shaking and I barely manage to shut the door. As I make the trek up the gravel driveway, I hear Tejano music playing in the backyard. A cool breeze ruffles my hair, and I shiver as I pull my windbreaker around me. It’s only then I notice it’s actually not my jacket, but one I borrowed from Andrés. He’ll probably ask for it back, which means I get to be dumped, humiliated, and cold today.
I stand beneath the shady porch roof and ring the doorbell. I used to be able to walk right into Tio’s house without knocking, but now I’ve been downgraded to dumped ex-girlfriend status, I guess that would be kind of stalkerish.
It doesn’t take long for Andrés’s Aunt Linda to answer the door. “Aye Dios Mio!” she screams as she pulls me into a hug, crushing my windpipe between her meaty arms and huge breasts. She gives me a big kiss on the cheek. “It’s our angel! I knew you’d come back to him.”
I rub my sore neck and smile. “Is he here?”
“Of course, of course.” She grabs my hand and yanks me across the threshold, calling to one of Andrés’s young cousins to go get him.
She forces me to sit on a sofa, and before long I’ve got a margarita in one hand and a tamale in the other. Though I doubt I could stomach the tamale, I take a long drink of the margarita. I can’t seem to keep my hands from shaking, and I need something to settle my nerves. Pretty soon, more of Andrés’s family show up. When I see Tia enter the room, my throat constricts at the visual daggers she’s shooting me. Why does she look so angry? And then I realize Andrés probably told her I went back to Jackson.
I fight the urge to jump off the sofa and run out the door when she sits beside me.
She lifts her chin and regards me through a frozen smile. “Hello, Christina. Did you have a nice holiday?”
Someone takes my food and drink from me, and it’s then I notice even more family members have filtered into the room. The kids elbow each other as they push their way to the sofa. They’re probably vying for a front row seat to my parade of shame and rejection.
I turn to his aunt and clear my throat. “Yes. I spent it with my mom and brothers.”
She quirks a brow, before looking at me through narrowed eyes. “I thought you were an only child.”
“So did I, but it turns out I was adopted. My birth mother contacted me last Friday. That’s where I’ve been.” Not with Jackson, I want to tell her, so don’t believe a damn thing your nephew tells you.
Tia claps her hands together. “Thank goodness. I knew you were too sweet to break my Andrés’s heart.” She grabs me in a strong hug and kisses my cheek. “Oh, Andrés will be so happy!” she squeals.
“That wasn’t Tyler?”
I look over my shoulder at Andrés standing in the hallway, staring at me with his mouth hanging open. He’s bare-chested and soaked, wearing nothing but a beach towel around his waist and, possibly, swim trunks beneath. He’s flanked by several wet cousins in swimsuits. I only spare them a cursory glance before my attention is back on Andrés. I do my best to keep my tongue from falling out of my mouth. I’ve forgotten how gorgeous his hard body is. His eyes are so vivid, a bright copper framed by thick lashes. I look away from him, afraid I’ll fall under his trance. I focus on that tattoo of a dog tag on his shoulder. His tanned, muscular shoulder glistening with water.
Shit. It’s been over a week since we’ve had sex. No wonder I’m so worked up.
And you shouldn’t be, I remind myself. Andrés has been an ass to you all week. He doesn’t deserve your lust.
Anger fuels my defiance as I slowly rise and clench my hands while giving him my best icy glare “What the hell are you talking about?”
Some of his family gasp, and I realize there’s kids in the room. I compose myself long enough to mouth an apology to Tia.
Andrés bridges the distance between us, his hair dripping all over Tia’s carpet. “When I called you Sunday. I heard a baby in the background.”
“That was my brother. Haven’t you read any of my texts?”
He shrugs, flashing me a sheepish grin. “My phone broke.”
At least now I know why he thought I’d gone back to Jackson, but the way he’s grinning at me pisses me off. It’s like he’s trivializing all the pain and drama he put me through this week. Not to mention the fact they have these things called stores
where you can replace broken phones.
I cock one hand on my hip. “Your phone broke?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs again and takes one hand off the towel, giving me a glimpse of that sensual trail of hair leading from his pelvis to his navel. “I thought you were with—”
I hold out a silencing hand. “You thought I went back to Jackson. I’ve heard.”
And with that, I turn on my heel and navigate through a throng of relatives toward the door, not just because I’m pissed, but because I’m horny, and horny and pissed is not a good combination.
Behind me Tia is saying, “Where is she going?”
As I slam the door behind me, Andrés’s voice booms. “Christina, wait!”
I’m stomping down the tile steps toward the gravel driveway when Andrés comes barreling out the door.
“Christina!”
The damn fool is dripping water all over the tile, and he’s not wearing any shoes. It must be fifty degrees outside with wind chill. Okay, maybe not cold to some people, but that’s bare-ass cold in my part of Texas.
I spin on my heel and march up to him. I whip off my jacket—his jacket—and slap it in his palm. “Here. You look cold.”
He mumbles his thanks and slips it on. He opens his mouth to speak, and I glare up at him and jam a finger in his chest.
“How could you think after all we’ve shared I would go back to Jackson?” I poke him hard, not even caring when he winces. “You completely shut me out and then go screw sluts d in Mexico!” Damn him for putting me through all this heartache. “You know, I was starting to think I was wrong, that I could have a family with you, but it turns out you’re no better than the other assholes who’ve treated me like a doormat.”
I turn to walk away, not just because I don’t have the patience to listen to his excuses, but I’m getting all choked up. I try to convince myself these are angry tears, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want him to see me cry.
He lunges forward, latching onto my arm. “Christina, listen,” he pleads. “I didn’t have sex with anyone in Mexico.”
I jerk away from him. “I saw the slut in your Facebook photo.”
He shakes his head. “That was my cousin, Marie. You’ve met her before, remember? She’s staying here this weekend. You can talk to her if you don’t believe me. All I did in Mexico was get wasted and try to forget you.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better? You have no idea how much you hurt me this week, Andrés.”
He splays his palms in an apologetic gesture. I don’t know why, but I’m expecting him to fall down on one knee and beg my forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, mija,” he says, “but you hurt me, too.”
I gasp and take a step back, and then another. Then I turn on my heel and run, and I don’t stop until I get to my car. I think I hear him chasing after me, but I know he can’t run as fast without shoes. I jump into my car and drive the hell out of there.
I’m crying as I peel onto the dirt road leading back to the highway. I’m crying as I drive the long road back to my apartment. And I’m crying as I pour bubbles into my bath water and then heave my tired and sore body into the tub.
The thing is, I’ve cried for so many days for so long, I don’t remember why I’m crying anymore, but some little voice inside me tells me I deserve to be unhappy after the way I’ve treated Andrés.
Chapter Twenty-One
Christina
I hear someone open the front door to my apartment. I suspect Andrés kept his key. I sink into the tub and close my eyes, pretending I don’t hear him knocking on the other side of the door.
“Mija,” he calls, “please let me in.”
I don’t answer, mainly because I don’t know what to say. My mind is a muddled mess of emotions. I know I hurt Andrés by spending time with Jackson, but then there’s the fact I refused to consider ever having Andrés’s children. But I’m still crushed by the way he walked out on me.
“Come on,” he begs. “I’m freezing out here.”
What the hell? Didn’t he change his clothes before he came over? I heave myself out of the tub, wrap myself in a towel, and stomp over to the door. When I look up at my ex-boyfriend, my heart does a little flip, and for a second I feel sorry for him because of the sad puppy dog eyes. Stupid heart. It’s caused me nothing but trouble these past few weeks.
“Why didn’t you change?” I grumble.
“I had to catch you.” He smiles sheepishly and points down at his feet. “I put on shoes.”
Flip-flops. He’s wearing flip-flops and wet shorts in this weather. I shiver as the draft from the hall chills my flesh. I’d left the heater off all week and forgot to turn it on when I got home. “Come in.” I don’t wait for him to shut the door behind us as I quickly slip back into the tub. I gasp when he follows me into the water.
“Warm,” he smiles and has the nerve to wink. He ducks his head under the bubbles.
I pull my knees up to my chest, but his long legs are still straddling my sides. Damn him!
My breath hitches when he comes back up. His hair’s slicked back and his muscles are glistening beneath the sheen of soap bubbles. My Spanish Adonis.
I shake my head and remind myself he’s not mine anymore.
He reaches into the water, sloshing bubbles everywhere, as he digs for something beneath him. He pulls out a little black pouch and dangles it between us. “I’ve been carrying this around for the past month.” He opens the pouch and drops a ring into his hand.
I gasp when I look at the ring—one solid diamond surrounded by a swirl of emeralds. It’s absolutely beautiful, reminding me of a gemstone flower.
“The stones are from my grandmother’s wedding ring.” He holds it up between the tips of his fingers. “Look, they match your eyes.”
I don’t say anything as I gape at him. I think about asking him to explain the ring, but I know exactly what it is. It’s the most beautiful engagement ring I’ve ever seen, and he had it made especially for me.
“I’ve been trying to get the nerve to ask you to marry me, but I ruined it by acting like a jealous pendejo.” He sets the pouch on the side of the tub and scoots forward, looking into my eyes with his penetrating, dark gaze. “I don’t deserve to marry you now, but if you give us another chance, I swear to God I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you how much you mean to me.”
I’m so choked up with emotion, I can’t think to answer. After what he’s put me through this week, how can I forgive him? But after what we’ve shared these past six months, how can I not?
And to think, all this time he’s wanted to ask me to marry him. I couldn’t have made it easy on him by running around with Jackson and showing disgust whenever his family mentioned marriage and kids.
“Andrés,” I say. “You had a right to be jealous. Jackson was trying to get me back. I shouldn’t have met with him for dinner.”
“But I know you love Tyler.” Andrés strokes the side of my face.
I turn to mush at the feel of his caress on my cheek and at his soulful gaze. “I do, but I love you more.” Tears threaten at the thought of never seeing Tyler again, but Jackson gives me no choice.
“I don’t want to force you to choose.” Andrés vehemently shakes his head. “I’ll just learn to deal with it.”
“But I won’t. I can’t stand to be around Jackson.” I shudder at the thought of that man, and then disgust turns to resolve. I can’t believe I allowed him to come between Andrés and me. Even worse, I let my past come between us. “I’m sorry I refused to talk about having kids. I was so scared I’d turn out like my mother.”
“I know you were, but you’re nothing like her.” Andrés’s penetrating gaze intensifies, and I feel as if he’s probing my soul. For once, I’m not afraid of what he will find.
“I realize that, now that I’ve met my real mother.”
Andrés kneels between my legs, and taking both my hands in his, he kisses the tips of my fingers. “Does that mean you’ve changed
your mind?”
Watching the sensual way Andrés kisses my fingers makes my insides quiver, and I shift against the tub’s smooth porcelain as my growing desire causes an ache in my center. “I’m not ready for kids now, but one day I think I’d like little sloppy kisses and warm hugs.”
One corner of his mouth hitches up in a devastatingly sexy smirk. “Stinky diapers and runny noses, too?”
“Maybe. If you’re there to help me.”
“I’m never leaving your side again, mija.”
When I see the love reflecting in his eyes, my heart does somersaults in my chest. “Promise?”
Andrés slides next to me and whispers against my ear. “I’m yours. Forever.”
Our garden tub doesn’t feel as big as I’d once thought. When his leg brushes against mine and his hand comes to rest on my hip, my body reacts to his like warm butter melting over hot pancakes. A moan escapes me as I melt into him.
He pulls my ass against his very, stiff, and very large erection. “I love you,” he breathes into my ear. “Please forgive me.”
I turn in his embrace, and wrap my arms around his neck as his lips come crashing down on mine. I sigh into his mouth, clenching his hair by the roots, as our tongues meld together, stroking each other with fevered frenzy.
Then I’m straddling him, wanting—no needing—to feel him inside me. “I’ve missed you so much,” I cry against his lips as I come up for air.
Andrés grabs my hips and suspends me just above his navel. “Not here,” he says in between kisses. “I want to take you in bed and make love to you slowly.”
Drying each other off takes twice as long as it should, because we can’t stop kissing and touching each other. My hands are everywhere, on his chest, across his abdomen, stroking his cock. He’s having a heck of a time trying to dry off my legs, and I inwardly smile, knowing I’m making his job difficult. I’m still feeling a bit agitated after my rough week, and I think he deserves a little teasing.
We quickly climb beneath the sheets to escape the cool air. Our bodies are a tangled heap of arms and legs, as we hold each other. Andrés whispers sweet words to me in Spanish, calling me his amor, and he tells me he loves me over and over again. His mouth is on my breasts, sucking each nipple, but not with his usual care. I sense a hunger in his touch, and I know he will not be able to make love to me slowly.