10. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
W here are they?
Dina checked her watch again, noticing with chagrin that only three minutes had passed since the last time she had looked.
What could they possibly be doing out in the fields together this long?
Sordid images flashed in her mind. She hastily slapped them aside. Lola barely tolerated any man in a romantic sense. Steve was flirtatious and charming, but he wasn’t Lola’s type.
At least, I don’t think he is.
But what if I’m wrong?
Who wouldn’t want Lola over me?
Lola. Young, carefree, devoid of baggage. Her history was squeaky clean, and she was exciting and sweet and lovely.
No matter how hard she tried, sometimes Dina envied Lola. She’d had the benefit of an older sister who screwed up so many times that she’d learned what not to do.
At least my mistakes spared her.
Dina looked at the window again, noting how much lower the sun was in the sky. It would be dark soon. What if something terrible has happened? An accident?
Lola did like to drive like a lunatic in that Gator she had outfitted for her use. What if she’d flipped over racing across the barren fields? Or fallen into a sinkhole?
On the verge of sending out a search party, Dina suddenly heard Lola’s raucous peals of laughter echoing in the distance. She rushed out of the parlor and down the hall, skidding to a halt as she spotted Lola and Steve.
The pair were covered in mud and grime and looked as if they’d been rolling around with pigs. Both were laughing and joking and smiling. They made a beautiful pair together, Lola with her dark hair and beauty queen looks and Steve sauntering like a cowboy next to her.
When was the last time I laughed like that? When was the last time I looked so happy?
Gutted, Dina retreated into the shadows as the two of them climbed the stairs to the second floor. They left a trail of muddy shoe prints and swirling dirt. Ignoring the painful throbbing ache in her chest, she decided to make herself useful and clean up the mess.
“Ama? What are you doing?” Camila asked a short time later.
“Mopping,” Dina replied matter-of-factly before wringing out the spinning mop with a few pumps of her foot on the bucket’s pedal. “What are you doing?”
“Ximena came by with this.” Camila held up a bright blue expanding folder. “She said it was in the safe in the cop’s room. She couldn’t get it last night because she didn’t have the code.”
“Can you put it on my desk?”
“Yes.” Camila didn’t move. She frowned and asked, “Why are you mopping?”
“There were muddy footprints on the floor.”
“So?”
“So, they needed to be cleaned up.”
“But we have people for that.”
“We?” Dina echoed. “When did you start paying the salaries around here?”
Camila exhaled loudly. “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?” Dina scrubbed a particularly yucky spot on the floor.
“You always throw it in my face that I don’t pay for anything!”
Dina stopped cleaning and glanced at her daughter. “I’m not throwing it in your face. I’m stating a fact. You’re a child. You don’t work.”
“That’s not—.” Camila sighed again. “Never mind.”
“No. Wait.” She propped the mop up against the wall and called after her daughter who was now stomping down the hallway. “Camila! Please! I want to explain—.”
“I don’t care!”
Dina hesitated, unsure whether chasing after Camila would make things better or worse. She settled on giving her daughter space and finished cleaning the trail of muddy footprints, crouching down to wipe the stairs with a damp microfiber to make sure she got every last bit of dirt.
“Did someone make a mess?” Lola asked when she found Dina carrying the dirty mop bucket to the housekeeping room. “Or are you playing Cinderella again?”
Dina snorted in a very unladylike way. “I gave up fairytales a long time ago.”
“You shouldn’t have.” Lola took the dirty mop from her hand and pulled the damp mop head from the handle. She tossed it into the hamper labeled for cleaning items but then took another peak at the hamper. “It’s full. I’ll start a load.”
“Make sure you do the pre-wash cycle. You know how Manuela is about the cleaning cloths and mop heads needing to be pre-rinsed, washed and sanitized.” Dina dumped the filthy mop water into the utility sink.
“Ew! Was that mud?” Lola looked suddenly embarrassed. “Wait. Was that from us? From the fields?”
“It’s fine.” Dina dismissively waved her hand.
“It’s not! You should have left it for me to clean up.”
“It’s not a big deal. I had time to take care of it.”
“On top of everything else you’re taking care of?” Lola asked skeptically. “Your daughter. The business. Our family.”
“I’m not exactly winning at any of those.”
“Don’t!” Lola touched her arm. “Don’t denigrate yourself like that! You’re a good mom. You’re a great businesswoman. You’re a wonderful daughter and sister and aunt.”
“I don’t think Camila would agree.” Dina hated to wallow in self-pity, but the pain of failing at keeping her daughter safe and happy was almost too much to bear.
“Camila is a teenager. You could give her puppies and kittens and unicorns and rainbows, and she’d still complain that you forgot the cupcakes and Taylor Swift and Olivia Rodrigo tickets.”
“Probably,” Dina agreed with a sad smile.
“Maybe the two of you should go on a little mother-daughter trip after things settle down,” Lola suggested. “Take her to a concert? Or somewhere fancy and grown-up?”
“It would have to be the fancy trip. She’s declared she’ll never go to another concert after Sirena retired the other night.”
Lola laughed. “God, was I that dramatic at that age?”
“At that age? You’re still that dramatic.”
Lola started to argue but then shrugged. “Yeah. You’re right. Speaking of drama queens—where is our mother?”
“Probably outside with Beto and Jasper,” Dina answered uncertainly. “Beto is grilling for dinner.”
“Ugh!” Lola made a face. “I better go intervene before he burns everything.”
Not the least bit interested in listening to her younger siblings argue about who had the better grilling skills, Dina remained in the laundry room. She emptied one of the dryers that was still warm and quicky folded Jasper’s clothing.
Her heart thumped sadly at the realization that her chances of being a mother to a baby were coming to an end. Before she knew it, she would be thirty-five. Geriatric in pregnancy terms. Her menstrual cycles had never been regular or easy. Her womb seemed to be always irritated and angry.
“There you are.”
Startled by Steve’s voice, Dina spun around to find him looming in the doorway. His gaze dropped to the tiny pair of pants in her hands, and he asked, “Don’t you have people for that?”
She let loose a rough laugh and turned back to her task. “You sound like Camila.”
“I doubt she’d like that comparison very much.” Steve joined her at the counter where she was folding clothing and picked up a pair of matching socks. “Do you make the little sock balls or just stack them up somewhere?”
“Sock balls?” She smiled up at him, and her heart skipped a beat. He was so close their arms were brushing together, and he smelled so fresh and clean. His hair was still damp and darker than usual, and his blue eyes sparkled with mischief.
“I don’t know what else to call them.” He held up a tiny pair of socks that looked like a ball with one tucked inside the other.
“Yes. That’s the way.” She couldn’t handle another second of his handsome face. She dropped her gaze to the pile of clothing and got back to work. “You don’t have to help. Everyone is out on the back patio by the kitchen. Beto is grilling for dinner. I’m sure there’s beer and other cold drinks if you’d like to join them.”
“I’m not in any rush.” Steve methodically paired together tiny socks. “I prefer your company anyway.”
“Really? Because you seem to prefer my sister’s much more,” Dina bitterly insisted.
Steve stiffened next to her, and she assiduously attended to the San Antonio Spurs shirt she was folding.
“Dina, are you jealous?” Steve sounded both amused and bewildered. “Of your sister?”
“No! Of course not!” Dina grabbed the stack of neatly folded baby clothes and placed them in the white laundry basket nearby. “Why would I be jealous of Lola?”
“I don’t know,” Steve remarked, his voice just as confused. “You tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” She picked up the last stack of clothing from the counter. “You spent the day gallivanting around the estate with my sister. I’m glad you both had fun.”
When she tried to snatch the pair of socks from Steve’s hand, he refused to let go. Instead, he trapped her hand in his. Her cheeks burned, and her breaths were panicked. She didn’t want to look up at him. She didn’t want to see him laughing at her.
“Dina.” He waited for her to lift her gaze, and when she didn’t, he tipped her chin, forcing her to stare back at him. The amusement she had expected wasn’t there. No, he looked hurt.
“I’m not interested in your sister.”
“Okay. Fine. And?” Even as she spoke so coldly, so stubbornly, she hated herself for it. Why can’t I let him see me? Why can’t I let him know that I’m vulnerable? Why do I always have to be so cold?
“You don’t need to be jealous of your sister or any other woman, Dina.”
“I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous?”
“Because I spent the whole day with someone else?” Steve hazarded a guess.
“You don’t have to justify the way you spend your time to me.” She tried to tug her hand free, but he held tight. He wasn’t threatening her. He wasn’t hurting her. He simply wasn’t giving her the chance to flee.
“I would have stayed with you today if you’d asked me,” Steve said, his voice low and deep. It traveled over and through her, heating up her blood and making her want things she had no business wanting.
"Ask me, Dina.” Steve’s hand settled on her neck and slid toward her jaw. He palmed her cheek and brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “Let me love you, Dina.”
“I...” Mouth dry, she couldn’t form another word. She gazed into his eyes, losing herself in the blue depths, and finally did something reckless.
She kissed him.
She pressed her lips to his and gripped onto his gray polo with both hands, refusing to let him move even an inch. He groaned against her mouth, the sound ragged and needy. Both of his hands tangled in her hair, and he devoured her with his kisses. His tongue stabbed against hers, and she fought him for dominance, not ready yet to bend to his will.
His hands left her hair, skimming along her curves until they reached her ass. He clasped the backs of her thighs and lifted her right up off the floor. She gasped at the sudden cold bite of the quartz countertop against her bare skin. Her loose chambray shirt dress had ridden up, and Steve quickly insinuated himself between her spread thighs.
She gasped as his body came into contact with hers. The counter was just the right height to align their bodies. Memories of their torrid night together rushed back. The passion, the ecstasy. She burned with desire and need.
“I never stopped thinking of you.” Steve kissed her mouth and her neck. “I looked for you the morning after and I tried to find you.”
Her head spun as this incredible, sexy man said all the things she’d wanted to hear.
“I dreamed about you. Every night.” Steve gripped her thighs and dragged her toward the edge of the counter. His thick erection rubbed against her aching core, and she moaned at the sudden shock of pleasure. “You’ve driven me fucking crazy, Dina.”
“Steve!” On the verge of losing control and letting this wild, sexy man take her right here on this counter, she gripped his shoulders. “Please. We shouldn’t—.”
“Ama!” Camila shrieked in horror. “What are you doing?”
Dina tore away from Steve’s mouth, her lips swollen with lust. She found her daughter standing in the doorway, looking on with disgust and fury. “Camila—.”
“You’re disgusting! Both of you!” Camila shook the folder she’d been carrying earlier. “He’s a liar! He’s using you—and you fell for it!”
“What?” Confused, Dina pushed Steve away and hopped off the counter. She tugged down her dress, covering her legs and regaining some modesty.
“Look!” Camila thrust the folder at her mother. “Look at what was in his hotel room!”
Stomach filled with dread, Dina took the folder from her daughter and thumbed through the papers inside. With each flick, her throat tightened. She turned another page—and froze.
She scanned the page over and over, trying to convince herself she had misread the words printed there.
But when she glanced at Steve, she saw the truth written across his face.
Liar.