That One Summer: A Collection of Steamy Contemporary Romance

Chapter 12

Destiny

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I’m mentally and physicallyexhausted by the time Pederson is satisfied and shuts down the day’s shoot. It’s been damn hard not slapping the snide grin from his face. Most of his attention was focused on Chavez though. I’m desperate to hear what Chavez has to tell me tonight. I’m afraid he’s going to tell me we’re over.

Never official and then over. I don’t accept that.

What started out as lust quickly grew into love. I love him so much my heart hurts. Its filled to overflowing with him. Although he stopped mentioning it, he’s still hung up on our age difference. But that’s not all of what’s bothering him. Something happened with Pederson in the past. Something that continues to haunt him. I want to help him get past that time, to heal. If he’ll allow me in.

So much depends on this evening. Anticipation and dread are mixed in equal parts as I change out of my television clothes into jeans and a flowy top. He said we’re going somewhere on the ranch, so he’s gone to borrow an all-terrain vehicle. When I hear the ATV, I exit my room and meet him in the drive.

He offers a cautious smile and points to a cooler secured to the rear seat. “Is a picnic okay?”

Maybe when my nerves settle, I’ll be hungry. Still I nod. “Sounds good. Where are we going?”

He hands me a hand drawn map. There’s no roads or distances marked, only landmarks someone who lives in the country might recognize. This city girl barely knows the difference between a butte and a sand dune. “I’m not going to be much help with this.”

“That’s why I have this, too.” He holds up his phone. “GPS coordinates.”

“You sure that’ll help? Remember I got lost following straight roads coming here.”

“No roads where we’re going, azúcar.”

“That’s almost a movie quote, isn’t it? I’ve got to trust you on this one.” And he called me ‘sugar’. That’s got to be a good sign, doesn’t it?

“So, Des,” he starts after we leave the ranch buildings behind. “Has the network offered anything now that we’re almost done here?”

He’s not ready to talk seriously yet, probably a good thing while we’re bouncing over uneven ranchland. Silence isn’t good either. I have no problem keeping this on fairly general topics. My mind is definitely on the future. Our future.

“They’ve made some general inquiries about what I want to do. I didn’t start out doing pools, and I don’t really want to continue with that as my primary focus. What I’d really like to do...” I let my words trail off. I almost said I wanted to keep working with him. Or not working. But with him. A deep breath calms my churning thoughts a bit and I continue. “I’d like to propose a new show concept where I highlight women-led construction companies or associated business around the country. The more female centric the company the better. People like Pederson need some education and I feel this would be a good way to start.”

“Excellent idea. I’ve worked with some remarkable female-led companies. If you’d like, I can help you start a list. Having concrete probabilities will support you when you go to the network.”

He stops the vehicle and reaches for the map. When his hand touches mine, he gives a little tug and draws me close for a kiss. “I needed that azúcar.” He points to a scribble on the map, then toward a cluster of trees. “This is a match. We should be close.”

A few moments later we bounce over the crest of a hill and stop. The vista before us is spectacular. Nestled in a valley, water from a large pond glimmers in the late afternoon sun. Clumps of trees are reflected, the leaves dancing in the constant breeze. Sheltered by a straight line of pine trees, there’s a wooden picnic table.

I point to a set of tracks leading from the table area then follow them into the near distance where gravel road dust from a passing vehicle hangs in the air. “That looks like a road to me.”

Chavez frowns. “Alice said...” Then he chuckles. “Never mind what she said. She sent us on a scenic route.”

“It is beautiful here.”

“She said her family would come here when she and Micah were little. They’d camp, have picnics. That kind of thing. It’s a good place...for us to talk. No one will bother us. Talk first or eat first?”

“Talk.”

Instead of sitting at the table, we take one of the blankets from the ATV and spread it on a patch of shady ground near the water. Shoulders touching, we sit and watch the water silently. Chavez takes my hand.

“You deserve to know what happened, why Pederson believes he has some sort of control, some dirt over me. Supposedly he’s bound by the same legalities I am. But I have no way of knowing what he might do now. I trust you, Destiny. Trust that this will go no further. Because, as much as I wish it were different, after Pederson saw us kissing this afternoon, now you’re also caught up in this.”

I ache to tell him how much I love him. It’s not the right time. The fact he said he trusts me tells me so much. Too many people have lied to him. I won’t be another. “There’s nothing you can say that’s going to change how I feel when I’m with you. How I feel about you. Just tell me.”

“Pederson was part of it. Part of setting me up in order to... Dios I don’t want to tell you this. I was foolish. Young.” He takes back his hand, fisting both against his thighs. He stares into the distance and I doubt he’s seeing anything but the past.

“I was an idiot. One of the go-fers on set came on to me. After the initial blaze of feeling flattered someone so beautiful was interested in me, I rapidly came to my senses. No, not completely. I tried to ignore her. But my resistance wasn’t solid. Or consistent. We never did...never had sex.”

When he turns his face to me, his eyes plead for understanding. “It’s like I knew something wasn’t right, so I always stopped. Always. We never...”

“I believe you.”

“One day she pushed for more. Stripped down to her underwear. When I wouldn’t touch her, she started to cry. To sob like her heart was broken. What was I supposed to do? I’m not a heartless prick. I tried to comfort her. Hugged her in a careful, caring way. Or so I thought. The door burst open. I heard the rapid clicks of a camera. A woman’s voice accusing me of accosting her daughter. Her underage, seventeen year old daughter.”

“Oh my god, Jorge.”

“No, keep calling me Chavez. I don’t deserve... I can’t think straight when you say my name like that. Pederson was a cameraman on the program. He took the photographs. Which fortunately didn’t show her face. Just my shocked expression and my hands on her bare skin.

“Met him in a bar a few years later. Drunk on his ass, he laughed when he told me the whole thing had been a set up. The mother wanted revenge on the studio for some imagined slight. Even though the studio knew the event had been manufactured, they didn’t want the publicity so she and her daughter walked away with a fat bank account.”

“That effing bitch. Both of them. I’d like to give them a piece of my mind.”

“Pederson was assigned other projects. Although I kept my job, I lost my smile. Became the man you called cranky pants Chavez. It was more than I deserved.”

“And you’ve carried this secret since then?”

He nods slowly. “I haven’t allowed myself to grow close to anyone. To a woman. Until you. I feel for you everything I shouldn’t.”

Finally I understand why he believes my age is a problem.

“Destiny, I know what you’re thinking. Yes, your youth reminds me of a past I’ve struggled to forget. At least to put behind me. But there are other considerations.”

“Considerations? Don’t you mean complications?”

He gives a single nod acknowledging my assessment. “You have so much life in front of you. You’ll want, need, friends your age. Sooner or later, you’ll become disillusioned about being with an older man. You’ll want the excitement of going and doing, enjoying time with those of... your own generation.”

My snort of laughter draws his attention. “My generation? Ooh, I’m a Millennial. How can I ever be with someone who’s a Gen X? Jorge Chavez, you’re an ageist. More accurately, a reverse ageist. Get over yourself. Yes, I have friends my own age—not many because I’m always busy, but I do. And I have friends who are younger. And some older. When I need to experience something you think only my age group can, I can simply call a friend.”

I pause and take a breath. I need to make him understand. Time he knows exactly how I feel. The soft prickle of his beard tickles my palms when I cup his cheeks and make him look at me. “Jorge, our ages don’t matter. Over these past weeks, I’ve come to know you. The real you who is both cranky-pants Chavez, and a kind, giving, loving man. The only thing that matters is I don’t want what we have with each other to end.”

He lifts one hand to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind my ear then captures the back of my neck, drawing me closer. My eyes drift closed but when he doesn’t kiss me, I sigh and look at him. There’s so much emotion in his dark eyes, and it’s all for me. “Jorge,” I say on a sigh.

“When you say my name like that...” His lips are hard and desperate against mine, the twining of our tongues a wild dance of promise. He fists the hair at the base of my skull to arch my neck as he nips and sucks his way to tease the spot he knows drives me crazy. I end up on his lap, my fingers searching for the buttons on his shirt.

He covers my hands with his, stopping my frantic movements. With his forehead pressed to mine, we catch our breath. “You need to know something else. You may not want—”

I stop his words with a kiss until he twists away. “Let me say this, azúcar.”

He waits until I nod reluctantly then continues. “I’m not extending my contract. I’m done with the crazy television world. It’s time for me to do something else. To live my life for me.”

“What does that have to do with us? We don’t have to have the same profession to be together.”

He holds my gaze for a long moment, then stares out over the water. “I want to make a total break. A new start. I’m not returning to my apartment back east. I feel more at home here in the Sandhills than anywhere I’ve ever been. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you either. I can’t stand in the way of your career, of who you can become.”

His statement doesn’t really surprise me and I think I understand. I feel the pull of this land, too, although I’d never thought of that peaceful comfort as meaning home. I don’t know how much of the feeling is because I discovered the land and Chavez at the same time. I don’t know if the distinction matters because he is my home.

“Do you have plans beyond moving here?”

A ruddy color highlights the tips of his ears and moves to his cheeks. “You’ll think this is crazy.”

“Crazy like giving up a successful career to move to the middle of nowhere crazy?”

He chuckles. “Maybe. In order to increase production of her beauty products, Dilyn want to expand the herd to twenty goats. But as you’ve noticed, sometimes they can get a little loud, and with the winery venue and plans to host weddings, they need to move the goats.”

“Makes sense. What does that have to do with you?”

There’s a brightness in his expression I’ve not seen before and excitement in his tone when he speaks. “They’re planning on using this area for the goats.”

“Should be good. Close enough to the main buildings so they can care for them but far enough for quiet. They just going to leave the animals out here alone?”

Shaking his head, he starts and stops speaking twice.

“Just spit it out, Chavez.”

“I’m using savings to purchase a few acres. The pond, area around it, land up to the road. I’ll build a house. I’m going to lease back part of my land for the goats. Don’t laugh. I’m going to become a goat wrangler.”

The idea is absurd. So unlike the Chavez I thought I knew. Still, the ridiculousness appeals to me. It feels... right. “That’s quite a change of profession.”

“I know. And I know I made this decision quickly. Without talking to you.”

“You don’t need me to approve of anything.” It’s not like we’re in a real relationship. The truth of that thought brings the sting of impending tears. Damn it. I angle my face so he can’t see.

“Don’t cry, cari?o, I don’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m not. You didn’t.”

Stroking my hair, he hugs me tight. “I don’t want to lose you. And I don’t want to keep you from your career, from what you want.”

I lift my head to hold his gaze. “What I want is you. What I want is to stay with you. Here if that’s what you need. Or anywhere. Jorge, I love you.”

His worried eyes widen. “Love me?”

“Yes, you stupid old man. I am so in love with you I don’t think my heart can hold all the wondrous joy.”

“So, I’m an old man now.”

“No, not so old. Just right for me.”

“I can’t ask you to stay. You’d be giving up—”

I smother his words with a kiss, then lean back and shake my head. “My home base can be anywhere. If—and I do mean if—I decide to do more shows for the network, I’d just need to be away for the filming. Then I’ll come home. To you.”

“Destiny, te amo. Te quero.”

“I’m going to have to learn more Spanish.”

“Destiny, I love you. I want you.”

Waggling my eyebrows, I reach again for the buttons of his shirt. “I’ve never made love outdoors before.”

The urgency is oh so sweet as we shove the clothing from each other. Jorge stretches out on his back, the head of his hard cock exposed against his stomach. He strokes himself lazily. “Can I offer you a ride, cowgirl?”

“I’ll take you up on that ride, my dear goat herder.” We laugh as I straddle his thighs. When I lean forward to kiss him, the laughter becomes moans. Our sounds of passion rise and are carried away on the breeze. I’m wet with need, coating his cock as I rub against him.

Breathless I rise to my knees, position him then lower myself slowly. He fills me perfectly, stretching deep, so deep inside me.

“Mierda! Ride me, azúcar.” His fingers dig into my ass, shoving me down as he thrusts up. Once we find our rhythm, he glides his hands over my skin to capture my nipples. He tugs and rolls, arches to take one in his mouth. Scrapes the distended peak with his teeth. Sucks hard.

I whimper and he knows I want more. “Destiny. Touch yourself. Make yourself come all over my cock.”

Using two fingers, I find my clit and circle the firm nub, gasping as the rising tide of my release tightens. Jorge’s tongue moves over the tip of my nipple in the same pattern as I flick my fingers.

My orgasm hits with a suddenness that pulls a scream from my throat. Before the sound fades, Jorge flips us and pounds into me. Between the harsh bursts of his breath, he whispers a combination of English and Spanish I only understand deep in my soul. Our song of love.

“You’re going to come again,” he growls.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I cry as I do. He groans, jerks, and as my inner muscles tighten around him, follows me over the edge.

After the breeze has cooled and dried our skin, I curl on my side and trail my fingers over his taut belly. “You know, I could eat now.”

My hand bounces when he laughs. “Do you mean the picnic... or did you have something else in mind?”

“The picnic. I need energy. I was too nervous to eat earlier.”

“My poor baby. Come on then, up we go. Let’s see what Alice packed for us.”

He slips on his jeans but all I tug on is my shirt. It’s long enough to cover my ass. Barely. He carries the cooler to the picnic table while I spread the blanket over one of the rough wooden plank seats. My bare ass doesn’t need splinters.

“What’s this?” He says and holds up one of Alice’s books.

I’m surprised when heat fills my face, burning hotter when he arches his eyebrows in question. “That’s the first book of hers I read.”

“Why’s it packed with our food?”

“There’s a...uh scene that...uh uses a picnic table. Maybe she was trying to give us ideas.”

Silent, he stares at me, then smiles a slow, wicked grin. “Tell me more.”

“Well, he bends her over the table and...” I wave one hand at the table. “You know.”

“The idea has possibilities, azúcar.”

I let his statement hang in the air then shake out the blanket and cover the tabletop. “I guess I’m not as hungry for food as I thought.”