Chapter 23
TOMáS
One Week Later
Sarina hasn’t stopped fidgeting since we boarded the place. First, it was her cracking her knuckles. Now she can’t seem to find which leg is more comfortable crossed on top of the other as she switches its positioning nonstop.
I place my hand on her leg, trying to relax her. Finally, she stills. “Let me guess, you’re not a fan of flying?”
She lets out an exasperated sigh. “The flying part I’m fine with.
It’s the destination that is putting me on edge.
” Shifting in her seat, she inches her body closer to mine.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess by the way she is tilting her head that she wants to rest it on my shoulder, but for some reason, she decides to hold back.
“I’d rather poke pins in my eyeballs than go home.”
“Aww, come on, don’t do that. You’d make me sad.”
Turning her attention to me, her gaze narrows on mine. “Why’s that?”
The air feels trapped in my lungs, burning my throat as I part my lips to speak. “Because.”
“Because isn’t an answer.”
I try again. “Because I like your eyes,” I settle for, instead of scaring her off with what I really wanted to say. Because I like you.
A visible blush spreads across her cheeks, paired with a mischievous smirk, the combination has my heart skipping a beat. “Thank you,” she breathes.
“Of course. Those ocean eyes are the first things I noticed about you.”
“Are you sure it was my eyes and not the fact that I was biting on a grown man’s arm?” she asks through a laugh that sounds like a Band-Aid, concealing how she truly feels.
I’ve wanted to ask her so many times since that night, who that man was. Now would be the perfect opportunity. However, as I work up the courage, my opportunity vanishes when a sea of onyx hair falls on my shoulder as her head rests on my shoulder.
“Hmm?” she hums, breaking the euphoric bubble her presence gives me.
“Can you blame me? That whole scene got my attention. But those eyes you want to poke with pins, they stole it.”
“You talk to all your fake wives this way?”
“I fear you’re the first.”
“Well, aren’t I lucky?” She giggles, this time the sound doesn’t feel like its masking sadness. It feels genuine. Relaxed.
Taking full advantage of her cuddled up on me, my mouth nears the crown of her head, and with my lips ghosting over it, I mouth in silence, ‘No, I’m the lucky one’ just as the overhead speaker sounds with the pilot letting us know that we’re about to take off.
Safety instructions follow as my mind drifts to the amount of work that awaits me in my briefcase. All with urgent deadlines, immediately needing my attention, but I don’t want to do any of it. I don’t want to move. I’d much rather stay like this, with her close to me.
She looks and feels like a Sunday morning. Effortlessly beautiful and a much-needed reprieve from the demands of work week.
This is the most casual I’ve seen her dressed, in her leggings and zip up hoodie.
And it has my mind reeling. Seeing her like this has me daydreaming about slow mornings cuddled up on the couch with a cup of coffee.
Wishing that we had more of these kinds of moments where we can be without all the noise.
I was more than willing to ignore the workload I have, but mid-flight she reminded me of an upcoming deal that’s time sensitive, so begrudgingly we grab our laptops.
Work occupies the remainder of the time that we’re in the air, and it seems to have distracted her enough that her nerves have eased.
Though they kick right back up again when the pilot announces our descent, and it continues, reaching a peak as we leave baggage claim with our luggage to head to the rental car kiosk.
She stops abruptly in the middle of the airport. People swarm all around us, hurrying about with no care. I guide us over to the side so we don’t get trampled by the sea of travelers.
“What’s wrong?”
Her chest rises and falls, increasing in frequency.
“Breathe.”
I take a deep breath in, and she follows suit, until her rapid breathing slows to normal.
“Sorry. That was embarrassing.”
“Stop that. You’re not made of stone. You’re allowed to have feelings.”
“Feelings? Yuck. Who needs those?” She deflects, with a dramatic shudder.
Angling her chin upward, I gently cup it in my palm, stroking it with my thumb, taking it as my opportunity to signal to her that with me she doesn’t have to be nervous. With me, she will always be safe.
“I really meant it when I said my dad is a complete asshole.” It’s said so matter-of-factly that I can’t help but laugh.
“Don’t laugh,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes.
“Sorry, it’s just that you’re saying that as if it’s new news.”
“No, I mean it. However big of an asshole you think he is, times it by ten.”
I hold up both hands, spreading my fingers and wiggling them, trying to ease her worries with some slight humor. “By ten, huh?”
“Yep.”
Lowering my hands, I reach for her free one, inching it close to my mouth.
“What are you doing?”
My lips graze her skin, pressing a kiss against it. “Letting my wife know that it’s okay and she doesn’t need to worry about me.”
“Well, I am.”
“Which, my wife or worried?” I ask, peppering another kiss onto her hand.
“Both.”
“I’m used to working with assholes every day, so I’ll be right at home,” I joke, but the playfulness is lost on her.
“Whatever you say.” She takes a step back, loosening my hold on her. “Just be prepared for him to exceed your expectations, that’s all. And I mean that in a bad way,” she says, leading the way to the car rental to pick up our reservation.
Sarina takes the keys from the worker, dangling them. “Guess I’ll be driving.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s a manual. That’s all they had left.”
I snatch the keys from her. Albeit more aggressively than I intended. Not that she seems to care, intrigue rather than insult taking over her expression.
“Stop. You’re meaning to tell me that a city boy like you knows how to drive? And a stick shift, no less?”
“I don’t know if I should be motivated by that or insulted.”
“Let the insinuation of my insult motivate you.” She winks. “Now, come on, my brothers are waiting for us.”
Here she was worried about me meeting her dad, and I’m more nervous about meeting her brothers.
“Anything you want or need to warn me about with them?”
“Nope. I just hope you don’t mind weed.”
I don’t know what I was expecting her to say, but it wasn’t that.
“Weed as in…”
“You’re best friends with Tino, don’t pretend like you don’t know what weed is or that he didn’t give you an edible the other night.”
“Hey, how’d you know about that?”
“I may have suggested that you needed something to loosen you up to your sister in the hopes that she’d pass the message on to Tino.”
“Aww, you were looking out for me?”
She looks me over, nice and slow, from head to toe. I can tell there’s something on her mind that, she’s refraining from.
“Whatever it is you want to say, you can say it to me.”
“There you are again, being so bossy.”
I click my tongue. “Bossy would be telling you what to do for my own benefit. That’s not what I’m doing. I’m simply encouraging you to speak your mind when you’re around me. To not hold back. That is, if you’re comfortable enough with me to do so.”
Her head shakes, tossing her onyx hair from side to side. “I don’t know where you came from.”
“The Bronx,” I interject, like a smart-ass, and it earns me a smile from her.
“No, I mean, what planet you’re from.”
“Jupiter, obviously.”
“Tomás, be serious.”
“I always am, though.”
Except when I’m with her.
There’s something about her that reminds me of who I am when the burdens of my profession and my personal responsibilities are stripped away. “You make me feel comfortable enough that I can let my guard down. It’s exhausting being serious all the time.”
“I’m glad you can be unserious with me then.”
“Thanks for letting me,” I murmur.
Making good on my promise of driving, once we exit the airport and approach our rental car, I stow away our luggage and slip into the driver’s seat.
As I turn the key and the engine roars to life, my mind is still stuck on what she was holding back from telling me before. Lucky for me, it’s as if she can read my mind and she breaks the silence, telling me what I want to know.
“I wonder if weed has the same effect on you that it does for me.”
“Meaning?”
“Does it make you horny?”
The air in my throat becomes tight, thinking of how it had me feeling paired with her accidental FaceTime call. “Maybe.”
“Good to know,” she hums, flirtatiously eyeing me.
“Where we off to?” I ask as she enters in an address in the GPS.
“Hemp Grove Ranch.”
“What is that, a dispensary?”
“There’s one on the property, yeah. It’s my brothers’ cannabis ranch and resort. Any form that you can think of weed coming in, is there. Lots of opportunities to relax.” There’s no missing the bedroom eyes she’s shooting my way.
Yep, relaxed and horny. Just how I want to be with my fake wife, who I can’t get out of my head, with her brothers all around us.
Whoever says karma isn’t real needs a reality check.
It’s real all right.
And now it’s really going to be testing my self-control.
I didn’t realize that a luxury cannabis resort was a thing.
Though as I drive through the grand stone-crafted entrance and beneath the wrought iron sign that reads Welcome to Hemp Grove Ranch, I’m proven wrong.
From what I can see so far, there’s acres of pristinely maintained land.
Some parts are open, others are fenced off, likely their cultivation site, and there’s even a barn off in the distance.
I take my time driving. Partially wanting to take in the sights, and because I can already see at the end of the driveway what awaits me. Standing outside of barn-style doors are two men dressed in all black, with cowboy hats to match, that make my six-foot-three stature appear short in comparison.
“They look…” The intensity of their collective stare is borderline distracting through the passenger window while I talk to Sarina.
Sarina interrupts me. “Stoned, more than likely. I promise you’ll get along with them just fine.”
“Right.” I swallow.
Sarina reaches for the door to let herself out, but I stop her. “Wait,” I shout, clearing my throat to adjust my tone. Wide blue eyes look at me, feeling like they are peering through me. “How much do your brothers know about our arrangement?”
“They know you’re my date to Harper and Chloe’s wedding.”
“Okay, so you didn’t tell them about what happened at the club?”
“Yeah, Tomás. I called and gave them a full blow-by-blow. No pun intended.”
“Very funny. Okay, so they just think we’re dating?”
“Yes. Well, no. They know you’re my date and that I work with you.”
“All right, that’s fine, I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”
“Well, let’s not keep the weed cowboys waiting,” she jokes, as I open the car door for her, offering her my hand.
“I’m going to miss getting such VIP treatment when we’re…” A pause, and the silence that follows places the equivalent of two boulders on my shoulders.
Don’t say it.
Please don’t say when we’re over.
“Why don’t you enjoy having me? Sound good?” I interrupt.
“Fine.” She rolls her eyes.
“Good. I’m only doing what you deserve.”
She stares at me for a beat, ignoring her brothers’ looming presence standing a couple feet ahead.
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because it’s true.”
“Whatever you say, Ramos.”
She tries to leave it there. Hell, I should leave it there. But, as I close the car door, and bend my elbow for her to hold onto, I take it a step further. “Mrs. Ramos, must you be so casual when you dodge all my kind gestures and compliments.”
That earns me a giggle that she’s trying hard to suppress.
“You like how that sounds, don’t you?”
I shrug. “I like how it sounds when it’s referring to you.”
She bites her lip. “Remember, only we know that. It’s our secret.”
“My lips are sealed,” I manage through the mild disappointment our reality makes me feel.
She grabs my hand, leading the way to the ranch entrance. “Don’t seal them for too long, I like when you move them on me.”
Me too.