Buck

Chapter 10

Mari yawnedas she entered the roasting shed, turning on the lights and firing up the roaster. She had bags and bags of green beans to roast into their signature blend bags. It was going to be a full morning.

Strangely, the job ahead of her hadn’t been her first thought when she’d woken up. It was Buck who was heavily on her mind. There had been a time when she couldn’t wait to get home, but that time with him in San Diego had changed something in her. Now…now she wanted to be wherever he was. It seemed so impossible before, maybe because she always considered this her home, which, of course, it was. She’d been born and raised here and had only left briefly for schooling. But now something about it felt suffocating, limiting, as if she’d receded and disappeared once she got back to the plantation.

Maybe that was it. Maybe it was because she hadn’t grown. Maybe she’d put together that plan for expansion to…what? Travel, get away so she could see herself as an individual instead of a collective?

Look at her family. Everyone was married and having children, and she was almost thirty and still alone. By design? Or by her stubbornness to think that her family couldn’t survive without her? There was that hollowness in her she’d discovered when Buck hadn’t answered her texts, drunk off his attention and that passion he never even tried to hide. Then he’d shown up here, and her attraction was off the charts. If Carmen hadn’t interrupted them when he’d come to her room, she had an inkling she’d still be in bed.

How did she not know how God-awful lonely she was? So hot, intense, and alone?

Buck was someone special. How often did a man like him come along?

How long was she going to wall herself off and hide in her lush and safe home?

She didn’t have any answers, but time wouldn’t stop for her. It stopped for no one.

The roaster was nearing the right temperature, and she threw several scoops of green beans into the pan to begin the roasting process.

She didn’t have to turn around to know Buck was in the room. He made no sound at all. Disconcerted by his natural stealth, she could feel all that power emanate from his deliciously male body, and the potency, the courage…everything. She remembered his face when he’d been in survival mode and was in pain yet had carried his commander on his shoulders. Fierce, unyielding, a fight-to-the-death intensity that was concentrated and beautiful in its harshness. No, this man wouldn’t back down from anything.

“Hello, Buck,” she said as she stirred the beans, the green changing to yellow.

When his arms came around her from behind, she thought she was prepared for the reality of him, but she was wrong. Her heart skipped a beat. “Hard at work already,” he murmured.

“Yes, of course. Although, if we hadn’t been interrupted last night, I might have been inclined to stay in bed.” The husk in her voice was unmistakable.

Judging by the restless shift of his body against hers, he seemed to have had the same thoughts. She shivered, her gasp audible in the room when he buried his face against her throat and warmed her skin with his breath and the hot press of his lips just beneath her jaw.

“That’s an interesting smell,” he said. “Somewhere between cut grass and toast.”

“Just wait. It’s going to go through a few more stages as I’m going for a dark roast.” She stirred some more. “I’m working toward the Maillard reaction. Do you know what that is?”

“Getting your ducks in a row?” She looked over her shoulder, smiling, their exchange full of sparkle and charm, with just a touch of mischief.

“That’s reduckulous,” she said, and they both laughed at the silliness. She leaned into him, and he tightened his hold.

“No more ducking around.”

She burst into giggles.

“Tell me what the Maillard reaction is.”

She butted the back of her head against his chest and laughed again. “Are you going to take this seriously?”

“I promise,” he said. He stared at her for a moment, then his eyes got all warm and intimate, his face creasing with a devilish smile that made her heart skip again.

She cleared her throat, went back to stirring slowly and methodically, adjusting the heat as she went. “The Maillard reaction is an enzymatic browning reaction that leads to flavors and aromas. It’s a chemical reaction between proteins, amino acids, and sugars, making hundreds of different aromas called melanoids. It was named after French chemist Louis Camille Maillard, who first described the method. The browning process caramelizes sucrose, transferring it into acetic acid by breaking down the sugar molecules into new compounds and bitter flavors.”

“You have a good bit of chemistry going on there.” There was a good bit of chemistry going on all right, and not with just the coffee beans.

“What is your favorite roast?”

“Meaning?”

“Light, medium, or dark?”

“Oh, we’re not talking about beef—” He chuckled when she dug into his ribs. “Dark. I like a heavy, bold taste in my coffee.”

“Same. We’re in the light roast realm right now, and it’s tricky to get it right, but done correctly, you will get a light brown bean, a bright, sweet, and juicy flavor, and a malt smell. With our Arabica beans, a light roast usually gets you a very creamy cup of coffee.”

He frowned. “Arabica?”

She smiled. “It’s a type of coffee plant native to Ethiopia and is the most popular variety worldwide, preferring tropical climates and high altitudes. You’ll find that most plantations in Central America grow Arabica beans.”

“Why is that?” Buck looked into her eyes then, with an intimacy and connection that was as real as his body against hers. It felt so good to be sharing this with him.

“They’re the highest quality, and we have the perfect growing climate. But there’s also Robusta, Excelsa, and Liberica.” She adjusted the heat again as the coffee turned a darker brown. “Robusta is mostly grown in Africa, Indonesia, and India, has a more rounded bean, and a deeper and more bitter flavor with undertones of wood and nut. Excelsa is grown almost exclusively in Southwest Asia, has a slightly elongated bean, and an amazing, complex flavor profile, which is excellent for blends. The flavors range from fruity and tart to rich and bold. And, lastly, Liberica is a tough, almond-shaped bean with a floral and somewhat fruity aroma. It grows in the harsh climate and low altitudes of western Africa, Indonesia, Malaysia, and the Philippines. While you can drink it to enjoy the full nutty, woody flavor, it is excellent when used in recipes that bring out its most potent taste. I love it in ice cream.”

“You sure know your stuff, Master in Coffee,” he said.

She nodded and the beans started to crack. “Hear that? We’re moving into the medium roast. Breathe in that sweet, floral scent. This is a versatile roast level with great flavor. Look at this,” she said. He peered over her shoulder, and she scooped some up. “The beans are still uneven with no shininess at all. Still a way to go to our dark roast goal.” She held his gaze. “Do you want to stir?”

“Sure,” he let her go and came around. He took the spoon, and she set her hand over his, and as he stirred, she could feel the sensual tension between them heighten. She closed her eyes and leaned more fully into his hard, lean body.

She slipped her hand up and down his back, and she bumped his hip when she saw that he was losing his concentration on the roast. “Keep it steady and make sure to turn all the beans as you move through them. We’re headed from medium to dark roast territory. An excellent state, and I do love the light, fruitiness with a lighter chocolate note. It’s a good place to stop the roast, but we’re going to give in to the temptation to roast until we get what we want.”

“Smells like caramel and chocolate,” he said.

“We’re right on the verge of another—” The coffee made a popping sound like popcorn, and she smiled. “Crack.”

He chuckled. “That’s uncanny how you knew that was coming.” The flat of his palm was warm and enticing.

She shrugged. “Experience. After a couple of snaps,” she said, “it’s done.” She released the coffee into a pan that swirled it around to cool it as soon as possible.

“Now do we get to taste it?”

She gave him a you’re-such-a-cute-beginner look over her shoulder that made him grin. “Not this batch. It has to rest for at least two days before we brew it,” she said with a return grin. “That’s my very favorite part.”

“Well, I’ll look forward to the cup once it’s time for brewing,” he said. “How much longer are you going to be in here?”

There went her heart again. “Another two hours. Why?”

Buck braced his feet in a gunslinger stance, his jaw set with determination. “I thought you could give me a tour, tell me about all these outbuildings, show me the coffee to pass the time. Guarding is an important process, but it can be boring as hell.”

She smiled. “Sure. I can do that as soon as I’m done. We could bring lunch and eat out in the field.”

He nodded. “That sounds great.” He met her gaze, his expression altering into something strong and intense as he stared at her, his gaze setting off a crazy, wild fluttering in her chest. He held her gaze for a moment, then his jaw tensed, and he turned away, an unnatural jerkiness in his movements. Recognizing the same tension in him that she had thought she detected last night, she watched him walk to the door, a fierce longing spilling into her bloodstream. A longing to touch him, to be held and touched back, to feel his warmth and strength around her. Her own movements suddenly jerky, her heartbeat thick and heavy, she crossed the room, her pulse accelerating wildly as she reached him. She grabbed his wrist and he stilled, then turned back to her. And she knew, as surely as she was standing there, that he was wrestling with something that was causing him pain.

Not even giving him a chance to react, she went into his arms. Taking his face between her hands, she kissed him with all the longing welling up inside her.

Buck’s chest expanded as he inhaled raggedly, then his arms came around her in a crushing embrace as he took what she offered. His jaw flexed beneath her hand as he moved his mouth deeply against hers, the thoroughness of his hot, wet kiss setting off a wild frenzy in Mari’s chest. Shifting his hold, he caught her around the hips, drawing her flush against his pelvis, and her breath caught on a rough sob, the surge of sensation making her lungs falter. He tightened his arms around her, holding her with the same fierceness as he had last night, his mouth hungrily absorbing the taste and feel of her. His need merged with her own, and Mari went all soft and willing in his arms, a liquid weakness spreading through her.

With a shuddering intake of air, he dragged his mouth away, gently guiding her head to the curve of his neck. His breathing harsh and labored, he roughly tucked his face against hers, his arms tightening around her in a fierce hold. Trembling from the impact of that single kiss, Mari closed her eyes and hung on to him, her heart slamming against her ribs.

With a hard breath, Buck pulled her hair back and pressed a kiss against her neck, the feel of his soft mouth making her shiver again. He held her tight for a moment, his mouth warm against her flesh. Then he sighed and raised his head, his hold protective as he backed her against the wall, his touch firm and comforting as he rubbed a lock of hair between his fingers. He cupped her face gently, kissing her again, then said, his voice gruff, “You know that I will do anything and everything it takes to keep you all safe.”

The firm, sensual pressure of his hand against her skin created a warm, fluid sensation in the lower half of her body, and Mari melted against him, his touch both comforting and inciting. She turned her face against his palm, her own voice uneven when she responded. “Yes. I know you will,” she said. “We live with this threat all the time. I’m resigned to it and am thankful that you, your government, and mine are combating violence and trafficking. Standing up to these gangs is all we can do. We won’t let them destroy us.”

He drew her hips tighter against him. “Trust me, even when you think you can’t.” His hand wasn’t quite steady as he tucked her hair behind her ear, and neither was his voice when he continued. “Just give me that trust you know is there.”

Cupping her hand against his face, Mari pulled his head down and kissed him again, long and slow. Easing her hold, she finally looked up at him, not even trying to camouflage the feelings he aroused in her. She could only guess he wanted to make sure she knew he wasn’t just doing a job, that it was important to him to be here for her.

Buck stared down at her, his mouth clamped in a rigid line, but the look in his eyes was raw with emotion. He held her gaze for a moment, then he shut his eyes tightly and gathered her against him in a fierce hold, his voice rough and unsteady. “I would never hurt you, Mari. I’m here to do a job, but that’s only part of it. I’m here for you. You have to know that.”

Trying to swallow the knot of emotion in her throat, Mari cradled his head against her, moved beyond words by his gruff admission. “I know that, Sam,” she whispered. She stroked the back of his neck, holding him as tightly as he was holding her, the weight of his arms making her feel very safe. Neither of them spoke for a long time, then Buck sighed heavily and slackened his hold, his mouth lingering as he brushed a kiss against her temple. “We both have things to do, but I wish we didn’t.”

Mari raised her head and looked at him, the regret in his eyes making it easier for her to pull away. She stretched up and kissed him softly on the mouth, then just because he was so irresistible, she ran her thumb over those sensual lips. She looked up at him again, her gaze frank and steady. “There will be time this afternoon, and…tonight.”

He frowned slightly and began toying with her hair, the grooves around his mouth deepening. “I hope I can get away and your evening isn’t taken up with shoe shopping.” He paused, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he slowly trailed his thumb across her cheek. He finally met her gaze, his voice very gruff when he said, “It’s a logistical nightmare.”

Her throat filling with emotion, she held his hand against her face. “It is. My crazy family, meddling sisters, cartels, DEA, CIA, and whole contingent of alpha males, and don’t let me forget Carmen, the force of nature.”

Swallowing hard, Buck bracketed her jaw with his hands and tipped her face up as he kissed her with infinite tenderness. Mari closed her eyes and yielded to the gentle pressure, the languid movement of his mouth making her feel immeasurably cherished. Tightening his hold on her face, Buck exhaled and reluctantly eased away, his eyes dark with regret. There was a thread of determination in his voice when he said, “SEALs never give up and are never out of the fight.”

Sliding her hands up his back, Mari gave him a huge smile. “I’m glad to hear that. My family needs grit and determination.”

He gazed down at her, a hint of a smile in his eyes. “My middle names.”

“We’ll have this afternoon.” She held up her hand. “Just us—no Carmen.” Then sheepishly added, “I hope.”

His smile turned soft and sexy. “Just us.”

There was a knock on the door, and a voice intruded. “Mari, are you in there? All my friends thought the black strappy heels were ordinary. I need something spectacular.”

Buck swore softly and huffed a laugh, dropping his chin to his chest, his tone rife with a tolerant annoyance as he muttered, “Oh, no. It’s a crisis situation. Not ordinary!” He expelled his breath and met her gaze, his touch firm and erotic as he smoothed his hand down her shoulders. Exchanging a lazy, sensual look with her, he suddenly grinned. “Can we pretend she’s not there,” he whispered.

“Nice try, Buck, but I can hear you.”

There was unspoken reluctance in his eyes as Buck trailed his knuckles down her cheek, then he heaved another sigh and backed off just in time for Carmen to muscle the door open, pushing him completely out of the way. She peeked around the half-open door and said, “Smells good in here, but aren’t you supposed to be roasting?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” Buck said, moving out of the way so she could come completely into the room. She had a stack of magazines, a tablet, and her phone.

“She came loaded for bear,” he said, casting Mari an amused look.

“Hey, look, buddy. This is my graduation dance. The. Last. One. I’m only going to be seventeen once, graduate once. So, everything needs to be perfect.” She poked him in the chest.

He lifted his hands as if she had a loaded gun. “Okay, there, six-shooter, I give up.”

Carmen’s eyes twinkled. “Do people think you’re a funny guy?” she asked, her tone desperate teenager.

He laughed, a rich, beautiful sound.

Carmen studied them with a look that was far too knowing, her grin bordering on a smirk. Plain old mischief glinted in her eyes.

Smiling up at him, Mari slipped her arm around his waist, loving the sparkle in his eyes. His tone was so dry. “You could go for a neutral heel, and a flat that will let you dance the night away, but if I was yall, I’d go for the bling.”

Carmen’s surprised eyes followed him out the door, and Mari just laughed.

She turned to her sister and said, “I like him, Mari.”

“I like him, too,” Mari said as they watched Buck’s very tight and gorgeous backside walk away. When her sister didn’t answer right away, Mari grabbed her chin, so she was focusing on her sister. “Show me the shoes, interloper.”

A few hours later, Mari had packed a picnic lunch complete with a thermos full of iced coffee from a roasting batch she’d done before she’d gone off to San Diego. Buck met her at the patio door, and she smiled at him as Diego, wiping his hands on a rag, moved aside so they could walk down the river rock stairs.

“Where are you off to?”

“A tour of the property,” Mari said.

Diego stiffened, his eyes darting out toward the horizon. “Where?”

“The outbuildings and the fields. Just general stuff.”

“Be careful around my plants, and I’d prefer you keep to the mature ones, instead of stomping through my seedlings.”

Mari looked at him and frowned, finding the sudden change in him totally strange. He seemed uneasy and stressed, the skin around his mouth and eyes strained. What the heck? Diego was always so laid back. “All right. We’ll be careful.” Mari watched his tense back as he disappeared into the house, an uneasy sense of foreboding settling in the pit of her belly.

“Is Diego all right?” Buck asked after taking in her face.

“I’m not sure. He’s probably under a lot of stress.” Dismissing the feeling for the time being, she took Buck’s hand and led the way. As they walked, she pointed out the processing plant, the warehouse storage for the green processed beans, the drying terraces, and the shipping warehouse for the bagged coffee dried and ready for shipment.

“So, who’s your shipping guy?” Buck asked.

“Our manager used to be Juan Barrantes, but he disappeared one day out of the blue. We were all shocked as Juan was as steady as the day was long.”

“No word at all? Just up and left?”

“Not just left, Buck. He disappeared. His truck was at his house and all his belongings, but we never saw him again.” That was a very unsettled situation when they realized Juan was gone. She couldn’t imagine why he left so abruptly. They always treated their employees very well, and Juan was an exceptional worker.

Buck frowned, stopping her in mid-track, his eyes going hard and flinty, and she had to resist the urge to shiver. “When was this?” he asked sharply.

“About a month ago. We were frantic as it was still within our harvest period. We had a tight schedule to get our product out when it was still fresh.”

“Who took over?” Gone were his soft tones. In their place was a flat, steely voice. His SEAL voice no doubt.

“Diego,” she said, suddenly wanting him to drop the questioning. At the moment, she didn’t know whether she was more unsettled by Diego’s behavior or Buck’s. “He was reluctant, said he wasn’t very good with administrative work, but my father insisted he do it. He’s done a great job. Everything has gone out on time, and we have happy customers.”

Buck looked toward the shipping warehouse like he was trying to bore a hole through the wall.

She grabbed his hand and said, “Come on. Daylight’s wasting.” She dragged him away from the main area, and they were on a narrow path through the beautiful coffee plants with a lush background spreading out, the trees forming almost straight rows. She told him about the ongoing harvest and picked a couple of berries, letting him try a ripe one. “This is all ours for as far as the eye can see.” She pointed off to the left. “Our hotel is way over there, buried in all that wild jungle. It’s beautiful. We’ll have to take a trip over there.”

He nodded, giving her a sidelong glance. “These look like new seedlings.”

“They are. Did Diego?—”

“He did, but I wanted to be by the pond. We’ll be careful.” He smiled indulgently, watching her face. She looked out over the plantation again, then went to her knees. Scooping up a handful of dirt, she looked up at him. “This is our blood, sweat, and tears, every single grain of earth is part of us. We feel all of it in our bones and our hearts,” she said passionately. She reached up and grabbed his wrist and pulled him down. Carefully, she transferred the soil to his hands, then closed his fingers over it. “Feel that, Buck. Rich and moist for our growing trees. Not only are you protecting us, but you’re protecting our way of life, the very soul of our land, our legacy.”

He made no response, his face obscured by the shadows of the leaves, but even in the dimness, she could see the rigid angle of his jaw. But what she couldn’t see, she could feel in him—and it was that terrible tension, as if he was clamping down on some awful emotion.

She heard him clear his throat, his voice rough. “You can count on me, darlin’,” he whispered. “I won’t let you down.”

After that emotional exchange, it was a relief to sit in the sun at the edge of a lush and verdant jungle with an idyllic lily pond, glinting in the bright light, the sound of howler monkeys in the trees and eating the delicious basket of goodies she’d packed: orange and mango agua fresca with blueberries, jamon serrano and manchego sandwiches with arugula, a cheese platter with queso manchego, cabrales, guava and quince paste, spicy citrus marinated olives, chipotle maple roasted nuts and grapes, watermelon queso fresco salad, black bean and chipotle hummus, and mango coconut arroz con leche.

Buck loved everything, especially the coffee. It made her giddy that something that had been grown here, something she’d nurtured, then prepared for him, made him hum in appreciation.

She tried not to stare at the way his braced arms pulled the fabric of his T-shirt tight over his biceps. Or the way it made his shoulders look wider. The wind picked up and tumbled her hair around, sending his into a wild mess. She pushed it off his forehead.

Buck’s cell rang and he answered it, walking a few steps away from her.

She spied a beautiful Resplendent Quetzal, an amazing bird species known for its vibrant iridescent teal plumage, and hot pink feathered belly. She rose to get a better look, creeping carefully so as not to scare it off.

As Buck finished his call, Mari went to turn toward him to call out but then froze as she saw feral amber eyes in the shadowed darkness. Suddenly, Carmen was there, waving and calling out her name. Her sister’s movement was mirrored in that predator’s eyes. Everything slid into slow motion as the puma broke from the trees, bounding across the open space, a tawny, powerful beauty gathering speed. She heard Buck call out frantically as she backed up toward the jungle.

“Carmen, run!” Mari shouted. Her sister froze in horror, rooted in place.

Buck moved, cutting across the cat’s line of attack toward Carmen and Mari. The puma homed in on his action, angling its haunches to make the turn—Buck backed up and accelerated sideways to draw the animal to him. In three bounds the puma was there, launching into a flying strike, pure force in every flexing feline muscle. Buck went into a roll. One claw caught his T-shirt and ripped it as the cat somersaulted over his shoulder. She stepped back at the magnificent show of courage, with no regard for himself.

As the cat splashed into the pond and displaced the lily pads, Mari felt the earth disappear from beneath her feet, and she slid uncontrollably down an incline, slipping on slick leaves and dead vegetation, twisting and flipping, until she hit the bottom in a tangle of arms and legs. Her scream echoed in her ears.

The impact of hitting the ground knocked the wind right out of her, and she lay on her back for a moment, trying to catch her breath, taking inventory on how badly she was injured.

When she turned her head, a grisly, dead face filled all her vision. She screamed again in abject horror, the sound muffled in the dense vegetation.