Sex could be messy. Angry. Rough. It could be a passive afterthought. The act could happen in the sleepy hours of the early morning or in a rush in the bathroom of a party. I’d experienced all of those scenerios in the past. But sex could also be passionate.
I smiled up at Javier. Those brown eyes dark and beautiful. My fingers ran over his jaw as he remained inside of me. Those last few blissful, intense seconds. We talked with our eyes instead of using words. The connection deep. I knew this man was special. This was the preview. The passionate tease. He would be even better next time.
Javier leaned in for a tender kiss to my lips. Our bodies seperated and he rolled to his back, pulling me on top of his chest. His heart beating rapidly under my cheek. His nose brushed my hair to the side as he kissed my neck.
“Su sonrisa me hace inmensamente feliz. Quiero hacer el amor con tu toda la noche,” he whispered.
“What does that mean?”
“Not knowing drives you crazy.” He laughed.
I raised up in his arms, seeing the smirk on his lips. “You do it on purpose, don’t you?”
“Sometimes.” He grinned.
“As far as I know, you just said sex with me is like falling into a briar bush.”
“No.” His lips got serious. “Sex with you is beautiful. The way your body responds to my touch. Quiero hacer el amor con tu toda la noche. I want to make love to you again tonight.”
“You do?”
“Yes.” Javier kissed me tenderly. “I will be right back. And we can continue right here.”
My body immediately felt his absence as he went into my bathroom. I lay on my back staring up at the crown molding around the ceiling. I was playing with fire, figuratively and possibly literally depending on where I touched his body. A grin curled on my lips. But the taste of fire was very thrilling and more seductive than the taste of Damian.
Javier returned and crawled under the covers with me. His kisses were gentle as his lips traveled over my skin. The urgency gone as we got to know each other better. The way we tasted. The way we fit together.
Afterward, I lay in the darkness, wrapped in the comfort of his arms. My body was relaxed and content. I ran my hand over his bicep and then his chest. “You never really said the other night in the pool, but have you always been a swimmer? Because you’re too good to have just started while living here.”
“I started swimming as a child. And then competed for several years. I loved being in the water. My father had a training pool built next to our house. But it consumed too much of my time. But I’m not someone who quits. Not even when I was twelve. Instead, I pushed myself harder. I had to be the best. I refused to be second. And I was difficult to be around. Angry at the time I had to invest. Angry at myself for not working harder. For not being faster. And then one day, my abuela sat me down and said I must quit. I’d lost my passion. I must find a new passion or be lost forever.”
“That’s pretty intense to say to a kid.”
He laughed. “She can be very dramatic sometimes. But she was right. I quit. And now swimming is one of the greatest loves of my life. I appreciate the freedom the pool gives me. How all the noise and the stress of my day disappears when I’m in the water. I feel both calm and powerful at the same time.”
“That is . . .” I searched for the words. “Inspiring. Letting go of the ideals so you would stop hating what you love. So did you find a new passion like she suggested?”
“I had more time to spend with my abuelo and my father. I learned more about the plantation. That’s when my father and I decided to start a vineyard. And my passion grew for something new. Something bigger than myself.”
I smiled. “That makes sense. It explains a lot about you.”
The moon cast shadows across the room. I couldn’t see much of his face in the darkness as he rested against the pillows. But his eyes remained open, almost reflective in thought. “Growing up in Colombia was very different than being in this house. I can’t imagine my father even living inside these walls. I’ve only seen him in a suit three times. He’s so full of life and fears nothing. He’s a really good man. But to my grandmother, I’m a reminder of him. I think she fears that sometimes. It’s not an excuse for her behavior. But I think that’s why she said those things about you last night at the pool.”
“I guess everyone reacts differently to fear.”
“Maybe. But I’m sorry she aimed it toward you.” He kissed my cheek. “So what’s your greatest fear?”
“Now you’re getting deep on me.” I smiled, contemplating his question. I had a list of fears like most people. But one always felt more like a set of handcuffs. “Well, I used to be afraid of dying while standing still.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s similar to how you swim laps. Some people swim fast and some just tread water. I used to be afraid that I’d never leave the side of the pool. So I got determined. And I refused to accept that fate. I made bolder choices.”
“So you’re not afraid of this anymore?”
“No, I am.” I hesitated. “The fear has just shifted a little. Now I’m afraid that my choices will hurt other people instead. That my choices are selfish.”
“So your fear has changed to guilt.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “I feel guilty for wanting to be myself.”
Javier rolled me onto my back. His body remained next to me with his head propped up on an elbow as his fingers caressed my cheek. I gazed up expectantly, waiting for him to respond to my statement. I was getting used to his little comebacks. His words had a tendency to calm the turmoil inside my chest.
But he didn’t speak. Instead, he leaned forward, placing a comforting kiss on my lips. Maybe this time he had no words. And that was okay. The look in his eyes said enough.
I smiled at him. “It’s your turn. What’s your greatest fear?”
“Snakes,” he responded, never missing a beat.
I burst out laughing. “I just poured out my insecurities. And you’re afraid of a snake?”
“Don’t laugh. Have you seen the pictures of Colombian snakes? A pit viper. Boa constrictors. And the anaconda.”
“I don’t think an anaconda lived by your house growing up. I’m not falling for that one.”
“No, but coral snakes live on the plantation.” His lips turned up in a grin. “Their bite is very strong.”
Javier buried his face down in my neck, nipping at my skin. I squealed as his fingers found a ticklish place against my ribs. Our laughter eventually faded and we remained intertwined under the covers, the sound of our breaths filling the silence.
“I like this with you,” I whispered. “It’s nice.”
“Nice?” he chuckled.
“That came out wrong.” I rolled over on my side and saw the humor in his eyes as he made fun of me. “I just mean it feels nice. Because, well, my last relationship was complicated. Bad actually. And this is nice. Not that your grandmother isn’t a complication. I’m just saying. Sex with you was incredible. But being with you and talking to you just feels nice.”
His fingers traced over my jaw as his eyebrows creased in concern. “You said a bad relationship? Do you mean he hurt you physically?”
“No, no. Not like that. It just wasn’t good. We weren’t good for each other. It ended before I came here. But I think it made me appreciate tonight. You’re a good man, Javier. And it feels nice to spend time with someone like you.”
He stared at me for a moment, but the lines didn’t relax around his eyes. His fingers traced over my lips. “I haven’t been in a relationship in a really long time. Work keeps me busy, and I’ve never felt it was a good idea to meet someone since I would eventually be leaving.”
I swallowed the pang of disappointment. Not that I expected anything more from him. But maybe it’s best he said it out loud to me. “I understand what you’re saying. I know what this is with you. And what it’s not.”
His hand cupped my cheek. “What do you mean? Is
this about what my grandmother said?”
“No. I’m just saying I’m a grown woman. I’m okay with casual.”
“Sí. Casual.” He let out a deep breath. “But I want you to know something. I’ve never slept with anyone who has lived in the house. Or at the office. I’ve only dated people in the city. I did that on purpose. Not because of the reasons my grandmother said. But because it’s easier to keep things casual when the person is not involved in my daily personal life, like at work or at home.”
“So what are you saying to me?” I whispered.
“That I like you, Sarina. And I think spending time with you feels nice too.”
I wasn’t sure what to say back. His confession made my stomach feel funny things, and I didn’t want to feel those things about him. Not when I knew better. But those little flutters felt so good. Better than nice. Javier leaned in and kissed me. Our lips moved together as I relaxed into his arms. Maybe the flutters were okay. Maybe we could be this kind of casual together.
My cheek rested against his chest and I felt his heart. Steady. Solid. The fatigue from the long day crushed me. I drifted off to sleep, feeling comfortable with him. Suddenly, my eyes flipped open. I remembered the people outside the gates.
“You awake?” I whispered.
“Sí. What’s wrong?”
“I wanted to ask you something. About those people outside the house. I know you saw them too.”
He tensed at my words. “I’m sorry. But don’t let them bother you. It’s not worth it.”
“I know. But I need someone to tell me the truth. Why are they here? We had to drive through them today. And your grandmother? Well, she didn’t answer me. And I think she got into a fight with your uncle over them. But I just need to know why they’re here.”
I could almost hear the literal clenching of his jaw. “People are not happy with how the company has been conducting business. The protesters have been outside the office building for the last two weeks. Now they’ve moved to the house.”
“Can your uncle do something to make them go away?”
He shook his head. “They are within their legal rights at this point. And refuse to leave unless the company does what they want. But the business doesn’t work that way. It’s hard to explain.”
I let out a deep breath, knowing this was not a good answer. “Well, they looked really pissed off today. It scared me. I was afraid they would jump in the car or something.”
“They just want to scare you. And intimidate my grandmother. They can’t actually touch you. That would involve the police.” Javier kissed my neck, pulling me a little closer to his body. “It’ll be okay. I just hope they get tired of waiting and leave soon.”
I’m not sure his words made me feel any better about the people. I lay there for a while, lost in my thoughts with my back against his chest and his naked body spooned around mine. His hand rested on my stomach just under my breasts. He drifted off to sleep first, and I listened to his breathing until I eventually succumbed to exhaustion.
I awoke the next morning to an empty bed. Javier had disappeared as promised, leaving only the pink rose on my nightstand and the smell of him on my sheets.
Present Day
MRS. HAWTHORN NEVER EVEN FALTERED in her standoff with the intruders. She didn’t mind betting all of our lives. She refused to be intimidated. Frank Sinatra switched to something peppy, full of brass horns, belting bold and proud throughout the ballroom.
“Would someone turn that shit off?” Blue ordered. “I can barely think.”
The man in the gray mask turned his head in every direction before shrugging his wide shoulders. “I don’t know where the hell it’s coming from.”
“I can do it.” My throat scratched on the words.
“Oh, you ain’t going anywhere, princess.” Blue laughed.
It needed to be me. If I could just get over to the bar, I could get to my phone that rested about a foot away from the dials, which controlled the sound system. I couldn’t let them find my only possible communication with the outside world.
“I won’t try anything. I promise.”
Getting down on my level, Blue leaned in close. His eyes appeared almost gray against the bright mask. I felt his breath on my cheeks. “Just tell me how to turn off the fuckin’ music.”
“I found it. It’s over here.” The man in the gray mask stood behind the bar.
No, no! I watched in horror. With the flick of a switch, the room went deathly quiet. And then it happened. He lifted my phone from the shelf. The intruder stared at the screen for several heartbeats before looking straight at us.
I swallowed hard.
If the man connected that phone to me, Blue would make me pay. I’d lied earlier to him. That device wasn’t tucked in my dress, but it was sitting twenty feet away in the sealed-up room.
I pressed my foot tighter against the leg of the bartender. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his reaction. He knew it was mine too. The man had seen me with my phone not even an hour ago.
Gray looked back down at the screen again. My breaths came in silent, uneven gasps as I waited for the explosion. For the man to out me to his boss. But my indiscretion stayed hidden. The intruder walked over to the champagne bucket, dropping my lifeline into the icy water. It sank to the bottom with every thread of hope.
Summer
I WIPED BEADS OF SWEAT from my forehead with a little yellow rag before placing it back in the pocket of my denim shorts. One might argue it was too late in the summer for an outdoor brunch on the patio. But one did not argue with Delsey Hawthorn and win. Yet, one could alter the circumstances for the greater good.
I went back into the house and made a call to the event company who would be delivering the roundtables tomorrow. They still had mister fans available to rent. Thank goodness! Mrs. Hawthorn would hate this idea. But I decided it was better to apologize and hope for the best than to ask permission in this case. The garden party was scheduled for ten in the morning. Those poor ladies would have their makeup running down into their mushroom-and-fontina quiche by a quarter after if I didn’t intervene with the fans.
Returning to the back patio, I saw the gardener Antonio unloading another pallet of plants next to the pool. The stunning and exotic flowers were provided by the botanical society. After the party, all of the plants would be donated to the Sunnyvale Nursing Home.
When I’d suggested the idea to Mrs. Hawthorn last week, her eyebrows had lifted high in surprise. “That’s an excellent idea, Ms. Atwood. And contact the administrator for a list of residents. We can place a personalized name marker on each plant so the ladies of the botanical society board will know exactly who will be receiving their contributions.”
Her praise didn’t come often. I both loved and loathed the moments. Part of me needed her words of affirmation. Every hard-working person wanted to please their boss. But then I hated the fact that I still wanted to please the woman after seeing her true colors.
Mrs. Hawthorn wielded more power than she even knew in my life. I had my head in the game. My eye on the prize. But things had changed. I needed to keep a low profile and stay in her good graces for more than one reason now. I walked an invisible tightrope between her office and my bedroom—as an employee and as a guest of the house.
I lived a double life.
Mrs. Hawthorn and I typically spent our days together working on the details of the garden party brunch as well as the upcoming hospital fundraiser in the ballroom. Sometimes those days were filled with long hours in each other’s company—planning themes, contacting donors, and traveling around town to meet with some of the patrons.
And then I returned to my room each evening where Javier usually joined me some time after midnight. He always slipped quietly through my bedroom door. Those stolen moments in the dark made the ones in the light more tolerable.
Afterward, he always stayed for a few hours, holding me as the moonlight trickled in the windows. Sometimes we talked, his deep voice rollin
g over the words as he spoke of his plans for his future vineyard. And sometimes we just slept with our bodies intertwined together in comfort.
When morning came, Javier would disappear before Brenda left for the kitchen to prevent any accidental encounter out in the hallway. Our situation wasn’t ideal, but the simple evenings together met both of our needs. I just wished some of those nights could be spent out in the open by the pool again. I wanted to see his body in motion swimming beneath the water. And I craved another taste of Damian.
But right now, I would settle for a plain old cigarette. I could almost taste the tobacco on my tongue. The hit of nicotine. The calm rush traveling through my blood. Mrs. Hawthorn would’ve had an actual heart attack if she saw me—moving plants around on the patio with a long white Marlboro dangling from my lips. I chuckled to myself as I pictured her arched eyebrows and her coral lips held open with a shocked oh in surprise.
Setting the pot of fuchsia-pink flowers next to the pool, I retrieved the rag out of my pocket and dabbed my forehead again. It felt like a hundred degrees of muggy torture today. I continued with my setup tasks, bringing more plants over to the edge of the pool.
Close to noon, the new trellis arrived on the truck. Elmore let the movers in through the gate and I caught a glimpse of the protesters with their bold signs. I needed to do something before the party tomorrow. I’d asked Javier last night, but he didn’t have any suggestions. The people were still operating within their legal rights. I guess the party would just take place with the attendees crossing the picket line.
The delivery truck parked by the side entrance, which led to the back patio. The movers were not gentle, and I feared Mrs. Hawthorn would come outside only to find her beautiful hand-carved creation smashed into a pile of broken sticks. But the guys managed to get it placed unharmed over the walkway, which would serve as the formal entrance for the guests when arriving at the garden party.
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