Chica Bella

by Carly Fall

  A hurried exchange of Spanish was conducted between Maya and her father. Landon picked up bits and pieces of it, and from what he caught, his father was asking if he should be happy to see Landon, or should he go get his gun. Landon smiled at the man, and Ricardo gave him a little wink.

  “It’s good to see you, Landon,” Ricardo said, extending his hand. He was around five-foot-ten and carried weight around the middle of a man who was approaching sixty and loved beer and his wife’s homemade tamales. His hair had a little more salt mixed in with the pepper than the last time he had seen him, but his eyes still held the spark of youth.

  Landon took Ricardo’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “You, too, Ricardo.”

  Landon heard a flurry of Spanish from inside, and Maya’s mother, Justine, appeared in the doorway. From a distance, Maya and Justine could have been mistaken for sisters. Both had long, black hair, both were thin. It was only when one got up close that one saw the small lines on Justine’s pretty face.

  “Dios mio!” she exclaimed. “I knew I knew that voice. Come here.” He bent down as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She took his face in her hands and studied him with scrutiny. “You look tired, Landon.”

  He nodded, and gave her a smile small. Those four words had so much meaning. Physically, yes, he was tired. But his soul was also exhausted. This past tour he witnessed so much hate, death, and poverty, that after a while it wore on him. He tried to put up a wall around himself and not let it affect him, but it didn’t work. He’d been doing what he did for too long, and although he would never admit it to another, he was scared.

  He could never look at the body of a dead child that had been caught in a bombing, or a mother weeping while she held her dead baby who had been accidently shot by the Taliban, or the bloody remains of a fallen fellow soldier he had played poker with the previous evening without it getting to him. On his last deployment, a guy with a rocket launcher tried to take out his unit, but had terrible aim and hit a bus full of women and children instead. Watching the bus explode and the subsequent carnage almost sent Landon over the edge. He still heard the screams in his sleep and saw the terrible images of the aftermath in his dreams. With so much turmoil within him, he was afraid he would one day eventually break and do something stupid. Maybe commit suicide. Maybe gun down a bunch of people or blow some stuff up. So yes, she was correct. His heart and soul were very, very tired.

  “Come in, come in,” she said, giving Maya a hesitant look. Landon noted the silent exchange between mother and daughter answered the unasked questions.

  Landon stepped into the small house, and as always, he immediately felt the warmth of the home. The dark brown carpet matched the old leather couch that sat against a white wall facing the small TV. Papers and magazines neatly littered the coffee table. On one wall a picture mosaic of the family hung in tidy rows, showing Maya and her older brother, who lived in another part of Mexico, in different stages of their childhood as well as many, many family photos.

  “I’m going to go change,” Maya said softly and put her hand on his arm. The sheer energy of her touch never failed to surprise him.

  “Okay,” he said, watching her go. Ricardo came back from the kitchen with two bottles of beer, handing one to Landon.

  “Sit down, Landon,” Ricardo said while motioning to the couch.

  Landon did as he was told.

  “You and Maya stay for dinner?”

  “No. I have a little surprise for her tonight,” Landon said with a slight grin.

  Ricardo smiled and nodded. “You need to get back into her good graces, amigo. You broke her heart bad when you left this last time. She worries when she doesn’t hear from you.”

  Landon studied the floor. “It’s safer for her, and for me, if no one knows where I’m at. I couldn’t talk to her, but I never stopped thinking of her.”

  It was also a matter of national security that no one knew of his whereabouts. He was a SEAL. "Under the radar" was their modus operandi.

  Ricardo nodded. “Where were you?”

  “Mainly Afghanistan. We did a couple other missions in Africa and Iraq, but mainly Afghanistan.”

  Ricardo nodded. “Was it bad?”

  Landon met the man’s stare. “Yeah.”

  Maya came out from the hallway in a sun-yellow dress, her black hair cascading around her shoulders. Landon smiled, positive there simply wasn’t a woman in the world more beautiful than his Maya.

  He checked his watch. “We better get going, Maya,” he said. “We need to be…somewhere in about twenty.”

  Ricardo stood at the same time as Landon, just as Justine came out from the kitchen.

  “You leave already?” she asked, looking hurt.

  “Si, mama,” Maya said.

  “Will we see you again?” Justine questioned, gazing at Landon.

  Maya talked a mile a minute in rapid-fire Spanish, and Justine put up her hand to stop her.

  “Landon?”

  He walked over, leaned down, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I hope so, Justine.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Where are we going?” Maya asked after a few minutes of silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, but a silence that belonged to people who had spent time together and understood each other, yet they both knew there were things needed to be said.

  “Downtown.”

  Downtown Cabo. Mainly a tourist trap, but they had some good restaurants, and she loved walking around the harbor looking at the boats and yachts that made their home there.

  “What are we doing?”

  He gave her a sideways glance and a small smile. “It’s a surprise, chica bella.”

  Beautiful girl. She couldn’t help but smile back. She loved surprises, and she loved it even more he remembered that about her.

  He found a parking spot on a side street, and they made their way down to the harbor and restaurants. Slowly, he took her hand, gazing down at her as if to check and see if it was okay with her. She felt the energy between them fuse, and gave his hand a squeeze.

  They walked the rest of the way in silence, as if they were waiting for their final destination before she asked the questions that tortured her for eight months, the questions she asked every time she saw him. Where were you? What did you see? Was it worse than what I saw on the news, or were they exaggerating? Did you sleep with anyone? Did you fall in love? Did you kill anyone?

  She didn’t know which answer she dreaded more. She figured if he slept with someone and fell in love, he wouldn’t be here. If he killed another being, it tore at her soul, but she also knew it was part of his job. She had seen what destruction to family and land the drug cartels had done to her country. To think the one she loved could kill another….

  The harbor came into view, and it looked fresh and new to her, as she never ventured this way without Landon.

  They walked along the dock, Mexican music blaring from some of the restaurants mixed in with the smells of seafood cooking.

  She marveled at the boats. Some were obvious tourist traps, with their glass bottoms and promises of seeing whales. There was a yellow submarine that took tourists to the El Arco rocks to see the beautiful fish that made their home there. She saw a large mast in the distance, which belonged to the pirate boat, also a tourist boat that took visitors out to sea. Other boats were private, some big, some huge. She couldn’t imagine being able to afford any of them.

  He led her to a gate and waved at a man standing next to a medium-sized yacht. The man waved back, and came up the ramp to meet them and unlock the gate.

  “We’re going on that, Landon?” she asked, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.

  “Si,” he said, letting go of her hand and wrapping his big strong arm around her, pulling her close.

  “Landon….” She didn’t know what to say. They'd hired boats before during his visits, but nothing like this.

  The gleaming white yacht stood three stories tall with a middle deck, what she as
sumed was a bedroom at the bottom, and the captain’s chair up top. She had never been on a boat like the beauty before her. She smiled when she read the name of the boat, Chica Bella.

  “Buenos Noches, amiga,” the man said with a grin as he opened up the gate, “Mi nombre es Jorge.”

  He was about six feet tall with dark brown hair, thin, and dressed in a white shirt and jean shorts. “Nice to meet you, Jorge,” she said.

  He gave her a quick wink and turned back to Landon. “Hola, Landon. Ready?”

  Landon looked at her, and she nodded. Her resentment toward him faded a little bit more, but she reminded herself that she couldn’t allow herself to ride down the slippery slope of allowing her heart to love him again, because she knew it would only lead to more heartache. But if she didn’t want to go down that path, why was she here?

  They boarded the boat, and they slowly made their way out of the harbor, the boat dipping and rising with the waves and the gentle wakes left by the other boats coming and going from the harbor. The other boats parked in their slots bade them farewell as they swayed in the ocean.

  The sun hung low in the sky and would disappear in about an hour.

  They sat next to each on the front bench, their shoulders barely touching, both of their hands clasped in their respective laps. Maya watched as the water channels of the harbor opened up to the beauty of the ocean, and she relaxed a little more, but she couldn’t help wondering exactly what she was doing.

  The back of the boat dipped, and there was barking behind them. Landon stood up, pulling her behind him as he turned to face whatever had made its way on their boat. A slight burst of fear hit her before she peeked around his wide shoulder, but it quickly dissipated when she saw the sea lion that had climbed up on to the boat’s deck right above the engine. The sea lion barked again, and Landon’s body relaxed.

  “In the cooler, Landon,” Jorge yelled from the top deck where he steered the boat.

  Maya eyed the big cooler to the left. She’d seen these greedy sea lions from a distance, but never, ever, had one barking at her up close for a meal.

  She laughed, and looked up at Landon. He chuckled, and they moved to the cooler. The smell of dead fish was mild when they lifted the lid, and the sea lion clapped his fins.

  Landon tossed a fish overboard, and the seal disappeared for a moment and jumped back on the small deck, barking. Maya threw a fish at him, and they watched him swallow it down.

  The sea lion barked once more, and Maya threw another. She marveled at his huge body, and sweet face. They could be very dangerous, but she found it almost impossible to believe.

  Clapping his fins, the sea lion seemed as though he belonged entertaining at an aquarium, not in the open sea.

  “You’re quite a character,” she said. The sea lion nodded his head as if he understood, and Maya tossed her head back laughing.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Landon watching her, a smile on his face.

  When she had tossed the last of the fish, Landon came up next to her and put his arm around her. “All right, big guy. I know she’s pretty, but she’s taken. Now get out of here. Vete!”

  The big animal moved his head up and down and slipped off the back of the boat and disappeared into the ocean depths.

  Maya turned to Landon and looked up at him. His eyes were spitting blue fire, and her body responded. But instead of melting into him, she took a step back.

  “I’m going to go wash my hands,” she said softly.

  He nodded, his gaze on her as she made her way to the restroom.

  Chapter Eight

  Landon could barely contain himself, or the raging erection in his pants. His heart soared a little higher with every second she was with him, and he felt the ugliness he carried within him fading. He loved her laugh, the shy way she tilted her head when she looked at him, and her sparkling, dark beauty. He wanted to take her into his arms and allow them to both travel to the almost surreal plane of sheer torturous ecstasy that only they could give each other.

  He let out whispered curse and sat down on the bench in bow, shifting in his seat until he was once again comfortable.

  After a moment, she joined him.

  They enjoyed the view of the expanse of the ocean, the birds, and El Arco, the incredible rock arch formation that hovered among other large rocks protruding from the water. It all stood many feet above the waves of the ocean on the end of the Baha Peninsula where the Pacific Ocean met the Sea of Cortez.

  “Do you want some wine?” he asked. The silence was killing him. He wanted her to say something—to yell, to scream, to just say something, instead of this torturous silence. He supposed he could break it as well, but what would he say? I’m sorry I broke your heart again. I’m sorry I had to leave and not tell you where I was going. Please take me back, please let me love you again. You make all the ugliness in my world disappear.

  But he couldn’t bring himself to say those words. Yes, he was sorry he'd left her again and broken her heart, but he had made a pledge to serve his country, and at the core of his very being, he needed to uphold his vow.

  “Si, gracias.”

  Landon went into the galley and got two glasses down from the small cabinet. He poured a rich merlot into both. He was about to take the glasses out, but quickly downed a glass in a few gulps, and refilled it.

  She smiled at him as he handed her the glass, and they sat in silence for a few moments.

  “What are we doing, Landon? I’m so confused with the…the feelings mixing in me. I’m so angry that I haven’t heard from you in almost a year, but yet I’m happy to see you. I want to run away, but I want to be with you. So please tell me, Landon, what am I supposed to do with all this…mixing in me?”

  He smiled, loving her broken translation.

  “Well, maybe we need to start with the questions you have,” he said gruffly.

  There was more silence as she sipped her wine and stared out into the ocean.

  “Where were you?” she finally asked, her voice quiet.

  “Afghanistan.”

  He didn’t look at her, but he felt her body tense next to his. “Were you hurt?”

  He shrugged, but then thought better of trying to blow off her questions. Maya had always said she wanted nothing but honesty from him, and he had been the one to offer this Q&A.

  “I took some shrapnel in my chest, but it was all superficial.” He gazed down at her as she studied his chest as if she could see the wounds he was talking about.

  “Did you kill?” she whispered, her stare never leaving his chest.

  Dammit. This was the part he hated because she abhorred violence, but killing was his job. If he didn’t take out the bad guys, they would kill American soldiers, and he would be damned if that happened on his watch. “Yes.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment.

  “Did you think of me?”

  “Oh, God, Maya.” He put his finger under her chin and turned her face to his. Her brown eyes sparkled with tears that made his heart feel as though it might quit beating. “Maya, it’s always you. It’s thinking of you that made me want to stay alive. It’s the thought of your smile, your face, your body pressed up against mine that kept me warm at night, the sound of your laughter that made me smile when I felt like I couldn’t smile again. Maya....”

  He didn’t know what else to say, so he did what he had wanted to do since the day he left her almost a year ago. He brought his lips to hers.

  It was as if he had never gone, as if he had kissed her just moments before instead of months and months ago. Her mouth was so familiar to him in its softness and taste. He laced his fingers around her neck and through her hair. A groan escaped him.

  She began to pull away, but then relented, and wrapped her free arm around his neck, pulling him closer.

  He set his wine down on the bench, hoping it wouldn’t spill, but not really caring if it did. Entwining his fingers deeper in her hair, he tugged her even closer. He let his hand travel over
her shoulder, down her arm, and to her hip. Slowly, his hand went to her thigh, and his chest went tight when he ran out of dress and hit bare leg. Her skin was soft, and he vividly remembered that she smelled like vanilla. His hand traveled under the fabric.

  A passing boat blew its horn, and Landon was reminded with immense irritation that they were not alone. He couldn’t bring her on his lap, strip her sweet yellow dress off and have her ride him into the sunset.

  A growl of frustration came up his throat as he separated himself from her.

  While looking at her, his breath caught, and she met his eyes with a desperation he felt in his bones. They needed to pour a proverbial cold shower on the situation and wait for later, if she would let him have a later.

  “I want to take my time, make love to you the way you deserve, and I can’t do that on a boat,” he whispered in her ear. He paused a moment and then grinned. “Well, I could do that on a boat. Or a beach, in a pool, or—”

  She laughed. “I remember, Landon. I remember how you love me.” She smiled up at him and then gazed out to the ocean.

  Landon moved to grab his glass of wine, and hugged her close while adjusting the way he was seated yet again. “I’m just not going to do it in front of everyone.”

  He also turned to the ocean and slammed down his wine. “I hope I’ll get the chance to do that again. Soon. Very soon.” He kissed the top of her head.

  They rode in silence, and Maya curled up against him for a few minutes. “Landon!” She sat up and pointed out into the ocean. “Is that a whale?”

  Chapter Nine

  Yes, it was. In fact, it was a mama whale with a calf. The picture couldn’t have been more perfect with both breaching the dark water against the light of the setting sun, the water shining off their backs like waves of silver.

  “Gorgeous,” she said.

  “Si, chica bella, but not as gorgeous as you.”