Chapter 15
Camila
My mother's visit has been far too tense.
She has that effect on me; I can't help it.
She still treats me like a little girl; to her, I'm never good enough, no matter what I achieve in life.
And the ranch... for some reason, the ranch is her enemy.
She hates it. She hates this way of life with every fiber of her being.
And I'm tired of being told what to do.
“Miss Mendoza,” David Gui answers on the other end of the line. “I trust you've considered my job offer.”
He repeats it anyway, not letting me get a word in.
He raves about his firm, the clients they're landing, the salary, and the opportunities I'll have.
I listen calmly to every word. Deep down, I'm used to it; it's what I do with my mother or with Michelle.
They talk and talk... but they never listen.
The only one who does—who truly does—is Liz.
“David,” I practically sigh his name as soon as he pauses. “You know when a company hires a consultant, and that consultant gives them exactly the advice they need, but not what they wanted to hear?”
I hear his breathing on the other end. Heavy. The breathing of someone who's not used to losing.
“You're not going to take the job,” he murmurs.
“No. I'm staying at the ranch. I'm keeping the ranch,” I correct myself. “I'll make it work,” I admit with a sigh, and it's so freeing I feel like a new person.
“Is that... final?”
“It's final,” I confirm.
He doesn't try to convince me. He doesn't push. Right now, to him I'm nothing but a disappointment. An idiot trading the chance to work at one of the best firms in Chicago for a ranch in New Mexico. And I'd rather not think about what my mother or Michelle will say when they find out.
I step out onto the porch and sit in the old rocking chair. The sun's already high now, evaporating the dew, exposing every neglected patch of the east field. I need to talk to Liz. I have to clear the air between us, or I'll go crazy.
In the barn, someone left a radio on in the tack room, and a country song plays like the soundtrack to our story.
Liz is in Relámpago's stall. The old horse has started retaining fluid again.
Alba says his heart problems won't get better.
Her hand rests on the animal's muzzle. She speaks softly, and the horse seems to listen to her words.
T-Lee joked that he was her confidant—she always comes to talk to him when there are difficulties or she's not feeling well.
“I know, old boy, I know,” she murmurs.
Relámpago snorts into her palm and then tries to bite her shirt sleeve. Liz laughs and wraps her arms around the animal's neck.
For a second, I consider turning around and leaving; I don't want to interrupt that moment, but Relámpago realizes they aren't alone.
“Is the coffee in the kitchen gone?”
I shake my head slowly and smile. We've spent two nights apart, each sleeping in our own room, and I want things to go back to the way they were.
“I turned it down,” I announce, letting out a long breath.
Liz blinks, clearly confused.
“Turned down what?”
“The Chicago offer. The job at that big firm. I called them a moment ago and told them that... I'm not going. That I'm staying at the ranch.”
We stay silent. Long. Too long. Relámpago nudges Liz with his muzzle, as if reminding her she's supposed to say something, and she absently rubs his forehead.
“You're staying?” she asks with a gorgeous smile. “You're not going to sell the ranch?”
“I want to be here, Liz. With you. These two days have been weird and... Shit, I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm falling in love with you, and there are things more important than a good job or more money. I like this life. The routine, the quiet, the sense of community. And I like you.”
“You've been a pain in the ass these last two days,” she jokes, stepping close and setting her hands on my waist.
“So have you. And instead of telling your problems to a horse, you could try talking them through with me,” I whisper before kissing her.
It's a beautiful kiss. It tastes like release and coming full circle.
I think about the first time, so many years ago, when we were teenagers.
In the loft of this very barn. The first hit of adrenaline, the panic that we might get caught, how later she made me feel like I was in heaven when I felt the slickness between her legs.
“You mean it, right?” she presses, and the vulnerability in her gaze seems the most beautiful thing in the world to me.
“Dead serious. I wouldn't joke about something like that,” I assure her. “This is my story. I want to take control of my life, for once in my life. And I want it to be with you.”
“Do you want to...? Do you want to go up...?” she asks, pointing toward the loft at the top of the barn and blushing.
“I think we outgrew that a few years ago, Liz,” I protest, rolling my eyes, but I take her hand anyway and let her lead me.
It's just as dusty as when we were teenagers. The old mattress is gone, though Liz spreads a blanket over a bale of hay and gives me a gentle push until I have no choice but to sit on it.
“This is crazy—we're too old for this,” I murmur, trying to complain, even though she's already started taking off my boots.
She gets rid of my socks too, very slowly, leaving several kisses along the arches of my feet before unbuttoning my pants and sliding them down to my knees.
“Sitting on a bale of hay isn't the most comfortable thing I've tried,” I protest, laughing. “What happened to romance?”
“I can bring you flowers later,” she whispers, starting to cover the insides of my thighs with little kisses.
I sigh when I feel her tongue slide close to my sex, her lips at my inner thighs, her fingers stroking me over the fabric of my panties, as if she wanted to check how turned on I am.
“If someone catches us, I'm going to kill you. I won't forgive you as long as I live,” I joke as she rubs her nose and mouth against my underwear.
She locks her gaze on me, smiles, and moves my panties slightly to the side, laying her tongue flat and licking me very slowly, from bottom to top, making me tremble with desire.
I try not to make a sound; I tangle my fingers in her hair, tugging lightly in an attempt to keep a moan from slipping out.
But it's a useless attempt. Within seconds I'm panting, my back arched, my toes curling, my nails carving lines across her shoulders.
“Stand up,” she orders.
“I hate you, Eliza Harper,” I protest, laughing, though I do as she says.
She stays in a squat, never breaking eye contact, making me tremble when she bites the elastic of my underwear and slides it down with her teeth.
She licks my sex again, caressing my ass with one hand, urging me against her mouth. I want to scream her name as I rock against her tongue, but the only thing that comes out of my throat is a long, long moan.
“Shhh,” she says against my sex before drawing circles on my clit with her thumb. The combination is too intense, and I have to curl my index finger and bite it to keep from screaming.
She slides a finger inside me, slowly, then another. It's an incredible situation. A mix of danger and arousal, of pure pleasure. I feel more alive than I have in years.
I feel the hay scraping the backs of my legs, the chill of the barn air on my skin, Liz's fingers deep inside me, curved, pressing perfectly on that spot she knows drives me crazy.
I close my eyes and let go with a sharp gasp. I collapse over her, brace myself on her shoulders as I try to catch my breath. Liz looks up at me and smiles, her fingers still inside me, prolonging the pleasure, holding me.
The sudden sound of the horses moving breaks the spell.
Maybe someone came in; maybe they heard something.
We go very still; I clutch at her hair as if that could make me disappear, my heart pounding so hard I'm sure it can be heard across the entire ranch.
For a split second, I'm back in my teenage years, hiding in this same barn with Liz, terrified my mother would catch me with that girl she hated so much and I couldn't get out of my head every night.