by Wendy Byrne
Enrique. Just conjuring up his name brought a rash of goose bumps to her flesh. She needed to forgive him. She loved him. He loved her. They’d figure out a way to make this long-distance thing work. If all else failed, she’d move to Florida if it meant she could be with him.
For the first time since she’d come home she had renewed energy. She’d just started the coffee as she contemplated how early was too early to call him when there was a knock at the door.
Ten o’clock seemed early for visitors. Not that she’d had all that many over the years, except for an occasional visit from her neighbor Mrs. Vittner. Even though she wasn’t up for chatting, she opened the door a couple of inches and held out her hand. “I’m sorry I’m not dressed for company, but thanks for taking in the mail, Mrs. Vit—”
Her voice caught in her throat as a hand captured hers. She’d know that touch anywhere by the way it zinged up her arm.
“Enrique.” His name purred from her lips while her heart did a lurch deep inside her chest. “How’d you find me?”
“I’m a cop, remember?” He moved inside, closing the door behind him. “Liking the I’m-not-dressed-for-company look, by the way.”
She glanced down at her sleep shirt that barely covered her underwear and gave it a yank. “Wait a minute, are you saying you used your badge for nefarious purposes?” When he nodded, she couldn’t help but smile. “Shame on you. What would your supervisor say?”
“Hell, he encouraged me. Probably couldn’t stand me moping around any longer.” He smiled, and his dimple popped to the surface. “That, and Jack gave me your address.”
“The traitor.” Since arriving home it had felt like her oxygen supply had gone MIA. But not now. To confirm the crushing sensation had evaporated, she sucked in a deep breath. “Jack must be bored. He’s doing a lot of meddling. Can you believe he called the art dealer and accepted a showing for my art? He paid my apartment for a year so I won’t have to worry.”
Enrique smiled. “He’s a great guy. Just like you’ve always said.”
“Does that mean there was some kind of conspiracy between the two of you?”
“Nope. He told me all about his plans. And I agreed wholeheartedly.”
“So, why is it that you came all this way?”
“I came to get your opinion.” He placed his hands on his hips and wiggled his eyebrows. “What do you think?”
Leaning against the door, she crossed her arms. “About?” On the plane ride home she knew without a doubt being with Enrique would be the only thing that could ever make her happy.
“About my haircut, of course.”
“Turn around, let me see.” He slowly turned in a half circle and then back again.
“You didn’t get a haircut.”
“My sister gave me a trim. Do you want me to call her on the phone to verify?”
“You came all this way to show me your haircut?”
“No, I came all this way to give you this.” Holding out a small box, he pulled up her hand and folded the box inside her palm.
“I—”
“I have no intention of taking no for an answer. You said you wanted me out of your life, but I thought about it, consulted with your uncle, and we both decided you didn’t mean it.”
“Oh, really.” Pressing her finger to her lips, she tried not to laugh.
“Couldn’t. You love me way too much for that.”
“You’re awfully confident.”
“Of course I am. You’re crazy about me, you just didn’t realize it yet. I figured I’d give you some time to let me grow on you.”
“How much time do you figure I’ll need for that?” Placing her hands on her hips, she closed the gap between them.
“Not long.”
“Now you’re really pushing the envelope, aren’t you?”
“I’ve got it all worked out.”
“I bet you do.” She tapped her foot on the floor. “But there’s one problem—”
He put his finger to her lips, and she felt the zing clear to her toes. “Jack volunteered to get himself arrested again so you’d come back down to Florida. I thought of a better way to negotiate around our logistics issues.”
“How’s that?”
“I put in a transfer for the Boston field office.”
Her whole body started to tremble. “But you love living in Florida.”
“You’re right. I do. Except not so much when you’re not there. Besides, there’s these things called airplanes, and you can actually get there in about two hours if we feel a need to practice our sex-on-the-beach thing.”
“But your family’s there.” Her heart fluttered inside her chest.
He twined his fingers through her hair. “True, but you’re here, so that’s where I want to be. I’ll get me one of those down coats, a pair of boots, and call me done.”
She chewed her lip. His proximity made her dizzy. “But—”
He moved the hair from the side of her face and planted a kiss at the curve of her jaw. “You’ll be the famous artist, and I’ll be your sugar daddy.”
“Why do I feel I’ll end up on the short end of that stick?”
“Oh, let’s not make any physical references yet.”
Laughter bubbled out. “I didn’t mean…”
“My stick.” A smile eked out of the corners of his mouth.
She nodded her head in affirmation. “Besides, I don’t think I’d ever call it short.”
“Well, thank you for that.”
“So what do you have in mind?” She moved closer, recognizing in that second how much she’d missed the way he smelled. The way he breathed. Everything about him.
“Marriage, children—you know, the usual.”
“Even with my history?”
“I’m not marrying your history, I’m marrying you.”
She bit at her fingernails. “You know there’s more to a marriage than sex. Although I know that’s important, there are other things to consider.”
“Let me get this straight. You were willing to hook up with someone who kisses like a dead fish, but because we have great sex, you’re unsure.”
“It’s so distracting. With some nerdy guy, I’d never have to worry about sex getting in the way of things.” She wasn’t sure she could keep the smile off her face but tried.
Enrique took a breath as he moved in closer, brushing his hand down the length of her arm. “In my book, sex should always get in the way of things.”
“But it only leads to trouble.”
“How you figure?”
“I don’t know, you start touching me, and I sort of lose my head.” She smiled.
“See what I mean? It’s a beautiful place to begin.”
“But we begin, and then we never finish.”
“Isn’t that the beauty of our relationship? Sidetracking is half the fun.”
“But some things need to be settled, and they never are.”
“Like?”
“I don’t know. Like your job, for instance. It’s dangerous. I’m not sure I could live worrying about whether something might happen to you.”
Enrique shrugged. “Then I won’t work undercover anymore. Boston has a desk job opening, too, and my boss already put in a good word for me.”
“But it’s what you love to do.”
He shook his head and gulped. “Not as much as I love you.” He grasped her hand and placed it on his chest. “You’re where my heart is. I can do anything as long as I come home to you at night.”
Tears rose to the corners of her eyes. “But we’ll need money.”
“No problem, I’ll figure it out.”
“But I need my independence.”
“I can’t imagine you being anything but.”
“I’m a perfectionist when it comes to my craft. I’ll lock myself for hours at a time in my studio to get something completed. I’m an introvert. I don’t need social activities surrounding me.”
“That’s why you have me. We’re the perfect m
atch.”
“Enrique, you’re making this so hard. Your arguments are so pathetic, there are holes so big I could drive a semi through them.”
He pulled her into a tight hug. “What’s to think about? You’re in love with me. I’m in love with you. We’ll make up the rest as we go along.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
He opened his phone. Seconds later, a melody she was all too familiar with began.
“Not Al Green. You know I’m spineless when you do your Al Green.” Although she’d covered her eyes with her fingers, she couldn’t help peeking.
“It worked wonders for me before. ‘Here I Am.’ Only this time, it will be the X-rated version.”
“You mean the last one wasn’t X-rated?” She gulped.
“Naw, we had an audience. I had to behave myself. This time, there’s no one but you and me. And I’m not going to stop until you say uncle.”
Epilogue
One year later
“I’m so frickin’ nervous.” Sammie glanced at Enrique and smiled. How could she ever have dreamed of letting what they had between them go?
“What’s there to be nervous about? You’re beautiful. Your work is amazing.” He kissed her cheek as the shivers raced up her body. Even after a year that hadn’t gone away. “Did I mention you’re beautiful?”
“You might have, but I never get tired of hearing it.” She kissed him back. This time on the cheek.
“That’s good, because I never get tired of telling you.” He slid his hand down the open back of her dress, causing another round of shivers. “And that dress is almost as amazing on as it is off.”
“You always were quite the charmer.” She went on her tiptoes even though she was wearing heels and kissed his lips. “I think you might get lucky tonight.”
He scowled. “Might?” He draped his arm around her shoulder. “You can’t resist me. You never could.”
She laughed. He was working his magic on her to distract her. Yet another reason she loved him. “You still haven’t told me which one is your favorite painting.”
“It’s got to be Sex on a Beach.” He nuzzled her ear. “I know it’s an abstract, but if I look close, I can see the two of us having a whole lot of fun. Maybe we can try and do that again when we’re there next month for our wedding.”
Their wedding. She let the idea slink around her brain until a bubble of happy slipped out though her lips. Being with Enrique had to be the smartest thing she’d ever done.
She’d spent her whole life running away from bad boys, and all she really had to do was open her mind to all the possibilities they had to offer. Besides, as Enrique constantly reminded her, she was bad to the bone as well, so they were a perfect match.
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Acknowledgments
First I want to thank my family for being so tolerant. The world of a writer can be consuming at times, and for all the forgotten dinners, late arrivals, and all-consuming writing marathons, I thank you for your understanding.
For the staff at Entangled, who offer a safe and supportive haven in the crazy world of writing, I am grateful my story ended up in your hands.
A big shout-out to editor extraordinaire—Robin Haseltine—your wisdom and guidance and mad editing skills have brought this story from good to great. I am forever grateful!
About the Author
Wendy lives in the suburbs of Chicago with her husband and one morbidly obese cat. She has a master’s in social work and worked in the child welfare field for twelve years before she decided to pursue her dream of writing. She has several books published with two different publishers and has self-published both a novella and a traditional-length novel. Several of her novels have been finalists or winners in contests over the course of her writing career.
Most days you can find her pounding away at her laptop spinning tales and inflicting mayhem on her hero and heroine until they beg for mercy. She loves to write contemporary romance or romantic suspense all infused with a touch of humor and, of course, the happily ever after.
Check out her website at http://wendybyrne.net and drop her a note or sign up for her newsletter.
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