Chapter 6
Jorge
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They say—whoever theyreally are—that at my age my testosterone levels could be dropping. If my morning wood is any indication, that’s not my problem. Lucid sexual dreams starring the young woman in the next room had filled my night. Asleep or awake, I want her. I remind myself she’s too young and pound my fist against the mattress next to my hip. And me? I’m old enough to know better than to lust after a beautiful woman half my age.
Mierda,I’m old enough to be her father. Yet hers was the face I saw when I closed my eyes, her body the one I imagined caressing when I jacked off in the shower. My groan of her name tasted sweet on my lips as I shot my load.
I’m not too old to miss how Destiny looks at me, how her eyes and lips soften with invitation. Dios, I’m a man, of course I notice and fight puffing out my chest with pride. Someone, someone so unbelievably beautiful wants me.
Ignoring my discomfort, I turn to my side and stare at the door separating the two halves of the building. The locked door. If she opened that door, I’m not sure I’d have the strength to resist. Somewhere inside me, I’m going to have to find that strength, build up a wall against the temptation.
Starting now. I rise and by concentrating on my normal morning routine I get my body, and my emotions under control and the foundations of my wall constructed.
That false calm lasts until moments before Destiny plans to head into town. A problem arises at the neighboring ranch where Turquoise Creek’s breeding program is headquartered. The family and ranch hands scatter, leaving Destiny, Dilyn, and I alone at the breakfast table.
Destiny leans back, crosses her arms, plumping her breasts. I look away and stare out the kitchen window. I will resist. At her sigh, I turn back to her. She shakes her head. “I was really looking forward to trying those whoopie pies.”
Dilyn sips from her juice glass. “Me, too. I honestly believe this little one’s going to have a huge sweet tooth. I never craved sugary treats like I do now. Oh well. Maybe I’ll find some energy to do a little baking later.”
Words exit my mouth without thought. “I can’t allow the three of you to be disappointed.”
The two women lean forward to stare at me. I chuckle at their matching expressions of surprise and hope. “I can follow Destiny into town to drop of her loaner, then we’ll stop at the bakery on the way back.”
“A great plan,” Destiny says. “Except I’d better follow you to town. As long as you know the way. I don’t trust my sense of direction here.”
“And I’ll call and order the whoopie pies. And maybe a couple other items for supper tonight if you don’t mind.”
“Whatever you want,” Destiny says. “We’ll even stop at the grocery store if you need anything there. Just make a list.”
The entire drive to town I over-think why I made this offer. I need to stay away, keeping as much distance as possible between Destiny and me. Whether consciously or subconsciously, she’s set a trap for me and I’m willingly walking right in.
When she follows me into the dealership lot, I’m no closer to a solution than when we left the ranch. I wait in my truck while she handles the return, jerking in surprise when she knocks on the locked passenger door window.
“Sorry,” I say when she climbs into the cab.
“No worries. If you’re like me, you don’t often have passengers. It’s easy to forget to unlock to let someone in.”
I press my palm to my chest. Why does it feel like she’s talking about my heart and not a damned car door?
Once her restraint is fastened she angles toward me and asks, “Now, how far to the bakery?”
“I guess about five minutes, depending on the traffic.”
The lilting joy of her laughter fills the cab. “In Atlanta there’s more traffic in my driveway than I see here.”
I wait for a slow moving sedan to pass before pulling onto the highway. “I’m sure there’s busy times here, too. Just not right now.”
At my glance she shrugs and her expression turns serious. “While we’re alone—”
My mind goes instantly there, followed a second later by my dick’s interested twitch. Gripping the lifeline of my steering wheel, I’m able to grate out a simple, “Yes?”
“Everyone else starts showing up today, right?”
“Far as I know.”
“I think we need to have our professional dynamics in place. Otherwise the director, and who knows who else, probably down to the camera operators, will have their own ideas on how we interact and how to best use those interactions.
Dios, this girl is smart. That consideration hadn’t crossed my mind. Probably because my blood flow has fled south. “What are your thoughts. Full disclosure, I’ve never seen one of your shows.”
“Really? Hmm, I don’t know if I should be offended or not.”
“Don’t be. I rarely watch any television. Let alone how-to shows.”
“Even your competition?”
I shrug one shoulder. “What anyone else does really isn’t a concern. Anything problematic the network addresses.”
“Well, I’ve seen yours. The older ones anyway. There was a group of us when I was in design school who watched home improvement shows all the time. Called it research for our careers. Sometimes our teachers gave out assignments to watch certain shows. Anyway, they were showing a lot of reruns of your first seasons. What I remember most is you always came off as somber. And all business, with barely any fun.”
I’d like to argue with her assessment, but I can’t. I offer her the stock explanation I’ve developed over the years. “There was an incident my first season. The network and I were able to keep it mostly under wraps. One condition to my remaining on the air was to adhere to strict guidelines.”
“Sounds harsh. But I understand. I’ve had my own similar network interactions. After my first pilot, they decided I was too sweet and cheerful. They must have seen something in me they liked though, so they filmed a second pilot and coached and encouraged me—”
She gives an unladylike snort I find delightfully sexy.
“I don’t know why, but they wanted me to be a snarky bitch. Nobody’s ever said that explicitly, but that’s the direction they took. It was a lot of hard work for me to satisfy that requirement. I’m still not comfortable with that persona. Friends and people I went to school with still occasionally ask what’s up with all the snark.”
“You should have some bargaining power by now. Drop the act and be you.” Another instance of me giving great advice that I’ve never followed for myself.
“I suppose. I don’t know how to initiate that change.”
“Use this production as a starting point.”
“But how?”
I pull into a parking spot right in front of the bakery. “Maybe we can figure it out over these whoopie pie things.”
“You are so in for a treat, even if they’re only half as good as Alice claims.”
Before we exit the cab, both of our phones ping with messages. I slip mine from the phone holder on the dashboard and swipe for the message. “It’s from Alice.”
“What’s up?”
I read out loud. “Dilyn’s in labor so we’re all at the hospital.”
Destiny bounces in her seat and claps her hands. Her delight brings my smile. “Ooh, the baby. How exciting. What else?”
“Doc says it may be awhile. Will keep you posted. Kids will go to their grandparents after school. Everything’s under control at home. Enjoy the day. There’s sirloin in the fridge.”
I can’t stop the chuckle at her final words. Destiny leans to read the screen when I hold it out to her and her laughter joins mine.
Do NOT eat all the whoopie pies!