by Rebecca Shea
"There you are!" Nick says, scooping up one boy in each arm. "Say goodnight to your aunt Katie, boys."
"Niiiight," they both groan simultaneously.
Nick kisses my cheek and heads off down the hall toward the boys’ bedroom with one boy draped over each of his shoulders. I love seeing him with the boys and can't wait to see him with a third baby. I watch Nick with admiration and a bit of sadness. He reminds me so much of our father right now. Losing my parents within a year of each other was the single hardest thing Nick and I have been through. My dad had cancer and he succumbed quickly, and a year later my mom had a massive heart attack. We think the stress of my father's passing ultimately took its toll on her.
"I'll bring ice cream next time," I holler, and both boys start squealing. I hear Nick mumble something under his breath before the sounds of their voices trail off further down the hall. When I turn around, Nicole is walking over to meet me with a glass of wine in her outstretched arm. Her eyes are pink, and I can see the exhaustion on her face.
"How are you feeling?" I ask, taking the glass of wine from her as she wraps her arms around me. Nicole is the sister I never had. I lucked out when Nick married her. She's kind and caring and an all-around amazing wife and mother.
"Miserable," she says against my chest. "I barfed all morning and have been nauseated all day."
"Ugh," I mutter, resting my chin on top of her head. She's petite and I feel like a giant next to her barely five foot frame.
"And opening that bottle of wine for you and Nick about damn near killed me. Do you know how bad I want a glass right now?"
I start laughing. I know I shouldn't, but I do.
"Bitch," she mutters jokingly, pulling away from me and heading back toward the kitchen.
I follow right behind her, sipping on the chilled wine. "Sorry I'm so late—" I start, but she puts up her hands to stop me. They're used to me never being on time.
She just shakes her head. "Dinner is almost ready." She opens the oven and pulls out a pan of roasted potatoes.
"You didn't have to make dinner," I answer, feeling guilty that she's cooking when she feels so terrible. I didn't come over to be fed, but I'm never one to turn down a home cooked meal. "But it smells amazing."
"Tri-tip, your brother’s favorite." She glances over her shoulder at me and smiles. Nicole really loves Nick and this makes me happy. To know that she'd go out of her way to make his favorite meal, even when he should be cooking for her, shows me how much she loves him.
"You're a good wife, Nic." I set my glass of wine on the kitchen island and slide onto a stool. I watch her sprinkle the potatoes with parsley before she puts them in a large ceramic serving bowl.
"Smells amazing!" Nick says as he joins us back in the kitchen.
"Boys go down okay?" Nicole asks as Nick takes over in the kitchen and scoots her toward the other stool next to me.
"Easy peasy," he says as he pulls a carving knife from a butcher block. "We read Goodnight Moon, said prayers, and out they went."
"You make it sound so easy," I snicker, and Nicole rolls her eyes. I can see her hesitation and worry about adding another baby to their family, but they're both amazing parents and I just know she'll settle into this soon.
"It is," Nick chides.
"Okay, enough kid talk!" Nicole holds up her hand to stop Nick from saying anything more. "I want to hear about this new roommate of yours." She smiles and glances over at Nick to see if he's listening. He doesn't budge, but I see his shoulders tense as he carves the tri-tip into slices. "Is he hot?"
"Jesus Christ, Nicole!" Nick barks, and we both burst out laughing. I nod quickly, and her eyes widen in surprise.
"He is." I try to contain my smile. "He's really nice, too."
"What does he look like?" Nicole rubs her hands together and scoots her stool closer to me.
I lean in and talk quietly. "He's tall and has this perfectly tan skin and brown hair. He obviously works out because he's basically a wall of muscle." She closes her eyes as I describe him. "The first time I saw him, he was wearing a dark gray suit with a white shirt. His suit hugged every damn muscle on his body. He's got short hair that's not too short. Like he styles it in the morning, but must run his hands through it at work, and by the end of the day it's kind of mussed up, but in a way that looks like it's supposed to be like that." I can feel myself smile as I describe him.
"That's because our jobs are fucking stressful," Nick chimes in.
Nicole and I both ignore him as I continue. "And he's got these really huge hands—"
"You know what they say about big hands, right?" Nicole jumps in. She's literally bouncing in her seat as I describe Sam.
"Enough!" Nick barks at us, and we both crack up. "And that's not true," he grumbles, turning around to shake the knife at us. He rolls his eyes, and we continue to giggle like little girls.
"Anyway, he was not at all what I was expecting."
"He sounds perfect."
"He is pretty perfect. Too bad he's my tenant." I sigh and pick up my wine glass, finishing what was left.
"Who says you can't screw your tenant?" Nicole asks, resting her elbow on the kitchen island.
"I say she can't screw her tenant," Nick says loudly, carrying the platter of cut up tri-tip over to the kitchen table with a disgruntled look on his face. "Plus, wouldn't it be weird, you know, to date the guy who works for your brother?"
"It would only be weird if you made it weird," Nicole answers, raising her eyebrows at him. "And you wouldn't do that, would you, Nick?"
He stands with his hands propped on his hips and looks between us, but I don't let him answer.
"You guys, no one is shagging anyone, and no one is dating anyone." I stand up and reach for the bottle of wine to refill my glass. "He's nice to look at," I continue, "and he'll pay his rent." I raise the bottle of wine in Nick's direction and he nods in approval, so I fill a glass for him before setting it down. "It's a win-win."
"Well, I want to meet him," Nicole says, sliding into her chair at the dinner table. "And if, in addition to his rent, you got a little side action…" She wags her eyebrows at me, and I stifle a laugh. "…no one would judge you."
"I'd judge her!" Nick slams his fork down on the table. "No one at this table is sleeping with Sam Cortez. Got it?" His head moves from side to side as he looks from Nicole to me and back to her. We both burst into laughter, and Nick visibly relaxes.
"Can we talk about something other than Sam?" he asks politely, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Why, yes." I wink at Nicole. "Let's talk about this baby you two are going to have."
Nick lets out a deep sigh and looks at Nicole. She offers him a tight smile, and I sit down at the table opposite her, with Nick on the end. "Why are you two stressing about this baby so much?"
Nicole reaches for Nick's hand, and he laces his fingers through hers, resting their hands on the table.
"I'm old," she says honestly. "By the time I have this baby, I'll be thirty-five. Do you know that's considered advanced maternal age? I have to have all kinds of other tests, and what happens if something is seriously wrong with the baby?" Her voice breaks with emotion.
"What if?" I ask, looking back and forth between the two of them. "You both said when you were pregnant with the boys that you'd take whatever God handed you…good or bad. What's different about this baby?"
Nicole shrugs. "I guess I was hoping to go back to work next year. I've taken almost six years off. I've kept up my license, but I was ready to get back to my career." Her eyes fill with tears. "I want to feel like I'm contributing to something more than wiping butts and making dinner," she says candidly.
"Nic," my brother responds as tears fall from her eyes. "You keep this family together. I don't know what we'd do without you."
The room falls silent as Nicole is overcome with emotion and Nick tries to comfort her.
"You know, there's nothing wrong with daycare," I finally say. "You can go back to work full-tim
e, or even part-time, and the baby will be just fine."
Nicole looks up at me and wipes her tears. "I guess we've never really talked about that before." She looks over to Nick. "With the boys, it didn't make sense because having two in daycare was more expensive than the paycheck I would’ve brought home."
"I know this is stressful," I begin. "But you know I'm a believer in everything happening for a reason. There is a reason for this baby." I smile encouragingly at Nicole, and she offers me a weak smile back as she wipes her nose on a napkin. "Let this news sink in. Talk about all the options you have, and don't rush into any decisions. I promise you this is going to be a good thing."
She nods quickly and looks over to Nick, who's watching her carefully. "Nic, whatever you decide…work or no work, you know I'll support you one hundred percent."
"I know you will." She leans in and presses a kiss to his lips.
He holds her face. "This is going to be good," he says softly, and she nods again.
"It is," she responds, trying to convince everyone, including herself.
"Can we eat?" I ask, breaking the mood. "I'm starving."
Nick and Nicole both chuckle and Nick winks at me, a giant smile on his face. That's his way of saying thank you, and I couldn't be more excited for my sweet family to get a little bit bigger.
Chapter Five
Sam
I spin the key to my new house around my forefinger, holding onto the memory of Kate's fingers grazing my palm—soft and gentle, but electric at the same time. I still see her long light brown hair falling in pieces around her shoulders, dancing across her delicate collarbones, and her full lips turning into the most beautiful smile I've ever seen.
I try to shake thoughts of her out of my mind, but the clock on the wall taunts me. Mere hours until I'll be living within feet of her. Inches from where I could touch her, kiss her—feel her.
My bags have been packed for days and now sit by the door as I wait to bust out of this hotel room. A delivery truck is scheduled to arrive at the new house between eight and ten o'clock this morning, which means it's time to check out and stop for a coffee on my way to my new home.
Fifteen minutes later, I'm on the freeway, a steaming coffee in my hand and the morning sun guiding my way. A new day, new home, new beginnings. I pull into the quiet neighborhood and park on the street in front of the house. I grab my large duffle bag from the backseat, leaving a few small boxes and suitcases in the trunk before heading toward the guesthouse. Following the stone walkway around the side of the main house, I head to my new front door.
There’s a pot of flowers on the porch. Sitting amongst the flowers is a white envelope with my name scrawled on the front. I reach for it, clutching it in my fingers as I open the front door. Sunlight filters in through the skylights, reminding me how bright and beautiful this place is. I toss the envelope and key on the kitchen island and carry the duffle bag down the hall to the bedroom.
After setting the bag in the corner of my new room, my cell phone rings, alerting me to the arrival of my new bedroom furniture. Forty-five minutes later, I have an entirely new bedroom set up: bed, dresser, nightstand, and oversized chair for the corner. I’m admiring my new space when I hear a soft knock on my door.
I can see Kate through the small panels of glass in the top portion of the door. Her light brown hair is twisted on top of her head, her hands cradling a giant mug as she waits for me to answer.
But I watch her for just a brief moment, her head tilted to the sky and her eyes squinting against the morning sun. Her lips are slightly parted, and I can just make out the move of her tongue running against her upper teeth. Those lips, that tongue…the things I want her to do to me with both of them. Shit.
With a deep breath, I shake off the thoughts of her ravaging me and open the door. I'm greeted with a giant smile just as her light perfume wafts into the space. "Welcome home," she says, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. "Thought maybe you'd want some coffee." She holds the ceramic mug out for me.
"Thank you. Come in." I step aside and let her into her own guesthouse. Her eyes take in the barren space, and she looks back at me. "Looks like you're all settled," she says dryly, and I bust up laughing. She laughs in return and wraps her sweater tighter around her.
"I'd offer to help you unpack, but it doesn't look like anything is here." She spins around and looks down the hallway.
"Yeah, most of my stuff will get here later this week. I just had new bedroom furniture delivered, so that's what I've got for now." I shrug and pull the mug of coffee toward my lips, letting the steam billow around my mouth and nose before taking a drink.
She rocks slowly back and forth, from her toes to her heels, and I can't help but notice how fucking sexy she can make a pair of torn jeans and Converse tennis shoes.
"Well, I'm going to get out of your way." She juts her thumb over her shoulder, pointing to the door. "You know where to find me if you need anything." Her lips pull into another sweet smile as she opens the door and steps over the threshold.
"Hey, Kate," I call to her, hoping I don't sound too eager. She turns around and looks at me. "Thanks for the coffee." I raise the mug. "And the note. I haven't opened it yet."
She smiles wider and bites her bottom lip. Fuck, that lip…
I clear my throat. "But I feel very welcome here. So thank you."
"I'm glad you're here," she says before turning and walking away. Her long legs make her look like she's floating across the brick pavers, and she throws herself into one of the oversized lounge chairs on her back patio. She pulls a pair of sunglasses off the small table, sliding them onto her face as she picks up her own mug of coffee.
I could get used to seeing her like this every day. She will be my demise. Someone I wasn't expecting but am growing to want in ways I didn't think were possible.
* * *
"Cortez!" Nick's voice bellows from the office next door.
I spin in my chair and jump up, heading over to his office. "Morning," I greet him as I enter his office. He motions to the chair across from his desk and I take a seat.
He's standing with his office phone pressed to his ear as he leans in and reads something on his computer screen. He tilts the phone away from his mouth and whispers, "Did you read this shit?" He points at the screen, turning it so I can take a look.
"What is it?" I lean in, trying to make out what he's reading.
He holds his finger up to silence me while he quietly finishes his conversation. When he’s finished, he places the handset down and looks up at me. "Navarro ring a bell?"
My eyes widen and I sit up straighter. Nick mentioned him before, but I wasn't sure he was going to let me in on this case. It's big. The bureau in Phoenix has wanted Navarro for years.
"What about him?"
"Well," he leans back in his chair and laces his hands behind his head, "we thought he went away when you took down the Estradas." He looks at me cautiously. "He didn't. He's moving guns and drugs through Tijuana now instead of Sonoyta."
"Who's he moving them through?" I rake my hands over my face, feeling my stress level begin to rise. These fucking drug cartels wear on me.
"Castillo."
"Fuck."
He nods in agreement. "My thoughts exactly. We got a tip that it might be happening, but we didn't follow up immediately. When Estrada died, we thought Navarro would close up shop. He's got millions. He's old. He's a small operation. There was really no reason for him to continue. An informant from Jalisco provided us a sworn statement," he points at the transcript on the screen, "with all the details of his new business venture."
I nod and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees.
"You know what this means, Sam, right?"
My stomach flips, and I'm not sure if it's excitement or fear.
"This is all you. You have the background and the history on Navarro. This is your case. Bring this fucker down." He offers me a tight smile and a sincere look that tells me he trusts me. I
swallow hard and nod again as my mind swirls with questions and plans.
"Cortez?" Nick pulls me from my thoughts. "You got this?"
I take a deep breath and look him in the eye. "I got this."
* * *
"Are you even supposed to be telling me this?" Alex asks softly. I can hear his daughter, my niece, laughing and playing in the background.
"No. But I need all the intel I can get on him. You know him better than anyone—"
"Used to know him,” Alex cuts me off. “That was a long time ago, Sam."
My fingers grip my steering wheel and I weave slowly down the crowded Southern California freeway toward home. "It wasn't all that long ago, Alex."
"Well, it feels like a lifetime ago. And honestly, I want to leave that in my past."
"Just let me call you tomorrow. Pick your brain for an hour and we'll leave it at that."
I can hear his exaggerated sigh and then his silence. "Fine. I'll call you at eleven. Emilia is taking Gracie to a playdate or some shit like that."
I heave a sigh of relief. "Thank you, man. You have no idea how much I appreciate this."
"Well, you better never breathe a word of this to Em. We don’t talk about the past, we don't live in the past, and this is definitely part of my past that I wanted to leave behind."
"I won't say a word, brother."
"We'll talk tomorrow then," he says quietly.
There's a click before the line goes dead and I drop my head back against the headrest. A million questions swirl through my brain, and memories of the case that almost killed me shadow my thoughts. My heart races as I think of the day I was pumped full of bullets. My eyes blur as I force back the memories I've tried so hard to forget.
I make a quick stop for a bottle of whiskey and Chinese takeout before finding myself on Kate's back patio, sipping my whiskey directly from the bottle while my Kung Pao shrimp gets cold in the takeout box.
"Wanna talk about it?" Her voice pulls me from my thoughts.