Chapter 12
BLAKE
Everything is fine. Everything is fine.
I slept with a man I’ve been pining over since I can remember, then the second found me in the shower with my fingers in my pussy, and then the third finds me in the shower while the second is shirtless.
It’s no big deal. Nothing to see here.
I’ve never been ashamed of my body, but there’s something about my childhood crushes seeing me naked that makes me feel exposed.
My hands tremble with nervous energy as I button up the shirt I found in Santiago’s closet, making the task take longer than normal.
I’m searching for my jeans when the door to Santiago’s bedroom opens. Practically jumping ten feet in the air, I turn and tug on the hem of the flannel, struggling to hide my lack of pants.
Santiago stands in the doorway with a plate of food. “I come bearing sustenance.”
His eyes zero in on my legs and trail up my body. He gets a look on his face that has my thighs squeezing together, which, of course, he notices as well.
I shouldn’t be embarrassed, but there’s a big difference between last night and this morning. Last night was a fantasy. Today I have to face reality.
Clearing my throat, I scurry forward and snatch the plate from him. “You made this?” I cross the room and plop down on the bed. My stomach growls as I find steaming French toast, hashbrowns, bacon, and eggs.
“Walker called in the order to Main Street Diner and had me pick it up,” Santiago admits and joins me on the edge of the bed. “But I put it on the plate.”
When he sits down, he leaves no room between our bodies. We’re touching from hip to shoulder. “Martha looked ready to rip my head off right then and there.”
“Why would she do that?” I ask, ignoring the fact that my mouth is full of delectable carbs and sugar.
Santiago deepens his voice, mimicking a villain. “Because I’m the big bad man who has sullied the fair maiden.”
Snorting, I almost choke on my food. “I’m nowhere near fair maiden material, and you’re hardly my first.”
I feel Santiago perk up next to me, and I realize my mistake.
Never talk about past boyfriends or hookups with my current one.
Not that Santiago is my boyfriend.
“Who was your first?” He questions pointedly.
Still staring down at my delicious breakfast, I steer the conversation in a complete one-eighty. “You had a couple of visitors this morning.”
“Oh yeah?” Santiago replies, genuinely surprised.
“Yeah. I was in the shower and…” I hold my fork halfway between my mouth and my plate, realizing that this topic probably isn’t any better.
“Did someone walk in on you? Who?” His question has a sharp edge to it that makes me think I’m about to condemn someone to death.
I roll my lips in, hiding the truth.
Santiago’s finger hooks under my chin and turns my head to face him. The intensity in his body almost has him vibrating, but his grip on my face is delicate. “Mi Cielo, no one else gets to look at you. I’d lock you in this room where I can come home to your perfect body every day.”
Apparently, I’m collecting red flags like it’s my job because I’m weak in the knees. If we were standing, I’d collapse right here.
I whisper my confession. “Levi and Walk.”
“Oh. Okay.” The storm around Santiago dissipates in less than half a second.
“That’s all you have to say?” I frown, perplexed.
“I don’t see the big deal.” He shrugs. “It’s just Walk and Levi.”
Santiago’s whiplash has me reeling.
He doesn’t want anyone else to look at me, but he doesn’t care if it’s Walker or Levi. Maybe he only got possessive to get me to give up the names.
Yeah, that makes the most sense.
Which means last night was just one night, as I expected.
Swallowing hard against the knot stuck in my throat, I set my place aside and turn to face Santiago. “I had fun last night, and I’m not na?ve. No rose-colored glasses on these eyes here. I know what we did last night doesn’t mean…” My speech trails off as Santiago’s jaw visibly squares.
“Doesn’t mean what? Say it,” Santiago utters bitterly.
I’m a big girl, and now I need to act like it.
Straightening my spine, I look Santiago right in the eye as I continue. “It doesn’t mean we’re in a committed relationship or anything. You don’t owe me anything. It was just a bit of fun. I know how this kind of thing works.”
Santiago grits his teeth. “What kind of thing?”
I continue as if he hadn’t said anything at all. “And don’t worry, I was a full participant and fully consenting.”
“I know you were. I was there too,” he reassures me, exasperated.
Taking a stabilizing breath, I get to the end. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m content with this being just one night.”
Silence stretches between us, widening from a crack to a chasm. Santiago’s nostrils flare, and his cheeks flame.
“What if I’m not okay with that?” It’s a question, but he says it more like a statement.
I can’t help but let out a full-belly laugh. “Yeah, right,” I finally get out as I playfully shove his shoulder. “I know your track record, Santi. I remember you always having a different woman with you. Never the same woman twice, and in a town this size, I won’t lie, that’s impressive.”
“Blake…” Santiago says my name like it’s a word of caution.
I hold my hands up defensively. “I’m not shaming you. Do what makes you happy.”
“You make me happy.”
Squinting, I try to decipher his statement like it’s a cryptic message. He can’t mean that. There’s no way. I haven’t seen him in over a decade, and he just found out that I’m here. “You barely know me.”
“That’s not true,” Santiago refutes as he grabs my hand. The simple contact jumbles my brain, but I can’t let him walk in here, flash a smile, and make me fall at his feet.
I try to pull away, but he holds on firmly. “You know younger me. You don’t know me now. I’m not the same girl.”
“I know that. If you were, then what we did last night would be illegal.” Santiago widens his eyes in an attempt to move our conversation into a more humorous tone.
Sighing with aggravation, my shoulders drop. “I’m serious.”
“Me too.” A hint of a smile tugs on Santiago’s lips. It takes everything in me to resist mirroring him.
Shaking my head, I steel my resolve. “I don’t need a commitment, and I know you don’t want the obligation.”
“You’re assuming, Blake. And you know what they say when you assume,” Santiago teases. When I give him a perturbed look, he sobers.
“Let’s be honest. We both know I didn’t return to Evergreen Falls permanently—”
“Yet,” he interjects.
“What makes you think I want a boyfriend?” I snap back and regard him critically. “Now who’s the one assuming?”
“Fine. Honesty.” Santiago flips my hand over and begins tracing the lines of my palm, sending a tempting shiver up my spine.
“Honestly, I don’t want just one night. I don’t want just a few days or a few weeks.
” He pulls me toward him and places my hand on his chest over his beating heart.
“Te quiero aquí. En mi cama. En mi vida.”
My chest constricts, comprehending the enormity of his claim.
I want you here. In my bed. In my life.
“Santi…” I breathe out. My hand slides up his chest to the side of his neck, settling on his cheek.
He leans into my touch, turning his face to kiss my palm.
“You have no idea how badly I’ve always wanted to hear you say something like that, but those were the wishes of a starry-eyed teenager.
Being here—in this town—it brings up things I’d rather let stay buried. ”
“Then hand me a shovel. I’m good at burying things,” he asserts earnestly.
My chuckle lacks humor. “It’s not that simple.”
“No,” Santiago returns. “You’re not letting it be that simple.”
We remain there in our standstill. My hand on his cheek, his hand holding mine in place, and our eyes locked in a silent plea with each other.
For now, we agree to disagree.
But I have a feeling this is a fight I won’t win, and I’m not sure I want to.
I briefly allow myself to picture it. Living here with him. Waking up to each other every morning.
But there’s a flaw in my impractical daydream.
Levi and Walker aren’t there.
Santiago interrupts my internal crisis. “Time for your second prize.”
“My second…Oh.” My heart pounds as I recall what I asked for. “On second thought, I’m good. No need.”
I don’t know why I made that part of the bet. I’m going to blame it on the alcohol.
“What’s wrong?” His lips purse skeptically.
Shaking my head, I stand from the bed and move to find the rest of my clothes. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”
Santiago follows me, gripping my shoulders and forcing me to face him. “Are you…” His gaze analyzes me, perceiving too much. “Are you afraid of horses?”
“No,” I answer too sharply.
His mouth falls open on a booming laugh. I force a frown onto my face even though I want to laugh with him. “You. Blake Jennings. Born and raised in Wyoming. You’re afraid of horses?”
“They’re huge!” I defend.
Santiago gets a mischievous look on his face. “Igual que—” So is my—
My hand flies up and covers his mouth. “Oh my god! Not the same thing.”
His response is muffled by my hand. “No shit.” He kisses my hand again then removes it from his mouth. “We’re going,” he asserts with a wink.
Lord, bless my panties. They’re not going to survive.
“Let’s not and say we did,” I sass back.
Santiago smacks my ass as he heads for the door, a smile on his face the whole time. “I’ll meet you downstairs in five. A lack of clothing won’t get you out of this.”
I call after him, “I can’t even find my clothes.”
“Wear mine,” he answers from the hallway. “They look better on you anyway.”
My cheeks flame.
“Four minutes!” he warns, and I spring into action.
I’m dressed and downstairs in three minutes, dressed in Santiago’s clothes as he requested.
He gives me his approval in the form of a whistle.
I don’t let myself think about the four-legged behemoths as we stride toward the barn just over a hundred feet behind Santiago’s house.
Situated next to the barn is a smaller house that I assume is the bunkhouse.