Chapter 12
12
A lejandro and Camila stopped by the pet store to pick up a dog bed and dog food. Their second stop was the store to pick up a few groceries, and then a small soul food restaurant popular with the locals. They placed their order to go and returned to her parents’ house.
Instead of eating at the table, they ate in the living room. Poodle enthusiastically gobbled her dog food in a corner, while Camila sat cross-legged on the sofa with a Styrofoam container of grilled butterflied hotlinks, homestyle potatoes, steamed vegetables, and a biscuit.
Alejandro transferred his food to a plate and placed it on the coffee table—two grilled pork chops, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, and cornbread. “What time are we meeting Melissa tomorrow?” he asked.
“Ten-ish. She’s driving from San Diego.”
He placed a piece of pork chop in his mouth and moaned in disbelief as he chewed the tasty meat. “Damn, that’s good.”
“I’ve never had a bad meal from them. Sometimes the wait is long, but it’s worth it.” They ate quietly for a bit, and then Camila suddenly let out a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Alejandro asked.
“Thinking about Mommy and how she would kill us if she saw us eating in her living room on the good furniture.”
Chuckling, Alejandro sliced off another piece of pork chop. “I remember that time when she threw her shoe at your father because he was eating pie in here.”
“Oh my goodness, that’s right! You were here that day. In his defense, he didn’t know she was home, or he would have stayed in the den.”
The den was the least liked room in the house because it only had one window and was therefore darker than other parts of the house.
“He found out very quickly.”
“Yes, he did.”
They both cracked up as they continued eating.
Moments later, Camila stared at her food. “I miss them so much,” she whispered.
Every time she hurt, he hurt. Alejandro put down his knife and fork and rested a comforting hand on her upper back, rubbing his thumb back and forth across her spine.
In the past he’d come visit for a few days at a time. He couldn’t tolerate much more before the cutting jealousy he felt toward Emilio overcame him. Then his friend died and after the funeral, guilt forced Alejandro to keep his distance.
He had been on assignment when her father passed, but when her mother passed, he was able to attend the funeral. Camila had been inconsolable, and he took off work for a couple of weeks to stay with her when Miguel returned to school.
After several days, he made her get out of bed and forced her to eat the food friends and family delivered on an almost daily basis. Staying at her parents’ house, just the two of them, had transformed their relationship. The change had been subtle, but sure—unmistakable tension ramping up between them.
“I’m okay,” Camila assured him with a faint smile.
Alejandro removed his hand.
“But I’ve made a decision,” Camila continued. “After all this is over, I’m going to keep the house. I’m not ready to sell yet. Too many memories. Maybe I’ll rent it out, make a little money for me and Miguel while someone else enjoys it for a while. When I’m ready, I’ll discuss what to do next with him.”
“Good plan,” Alejandro said.
“I don’t know if it’s a good plan, but it’ll work until I figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life. I’m sure you have your life all figured out.” She placed her food on the table and closed the lid as if she’d lost her appetite.
“I am no different than you or anyone else. I’m figuring things out as I go,” Alejandro said, breaking off a piece of cornbread and placing it in his mouth.
“You ever think you’ll get married?” Camila asked tentatively, as if afraid to ask.
What a trick question. If he could, he would marry her in a minute. He’d decided long ago he didn’t want anyone else—couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life with anyone else.
He’d had feelings for Camila since he was a teen, when every time he saw her, he wondered what her lips tasted like—or if he reached for her hand, how would she react? Would she hold his or pull away?
“Maybe. One day.”
“You’re really not seeing anyone seriously in Hopevale?”
“I’m not.” He resumed eating.
“I’m surprised.”
“Why?”
“I see the way women react to you, Alejandro. Look at how Rhonda behaved earlier.”
“Older women like me for some reason.”
“Must be your quiet intensity.”
He wasn’t looking at her when she made the statement and couldn’t tell if she was kidding or not.
“I’m not kidding,” she said, reading his mind. “What’s the age of the oldest woman you’ve ever dated?”
“I don’t think I want to tell you.” He took a sip of lemonade.
“That old, huh?” Her smile took on its customary teasing edge.
“You need to mind your own business.” He replaced the Styrofoam cup on the coffee table.
“Come on, tell me!” She shoved his arm.
“ Ay ,” he said, pretending she hurt his arm.
Her eyes widened. “Is that the arm that got cut?”
“Yes, and it’s still sore.” He rubbed the spot, feeling the bandage underneath the sleeve of his shirt.
“I’m sorry, but I want an answer.”
“You’re not going to give up, are you?”
“Nope. You know once I set my mind to something?—”
“You’re like a dog with a bone.”
“I prefer to say relentless or persistent, but I guess your answer works.”
Alejandro sat back and watched her with his mouth tipped up at the corners. “When I tell you, you can’t judge me.”
“I promise not to judge.” Camila crossed her heart.
He didn’t answer right away just to torture her.
“Jandro!” she said in exasperation.
He chuckled. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. She was fifty-five.”
Her mouth fell open.
“You promised not to judge,” he reminded her, pointing a finger in her face.
She closed her mouth. “I’m not judging.”
He glared at her and then ate some of his macaroni and cheese.
“You’re thirty-four years old, which means your girlfriend was twenty-one years older than you.”
“She was not my girlfriend, and we were involved two years ago, which means she was twenty-three years older than me.”
“You like older women?” she asked.
“I like women. By the way, she was a young fifty-five.”
“Whatever that means.”
“It means she could keep up with me, smart ass.”
“And what does that mean?” she asked, her voice dropping unusually low.
He wiped his mouth with his napkin and placed it on the table with a deliberate movement. “You know what it means.”
There was a pulse of silence before she lowered her gaze and faint color tinged her cheeks. “Oh.”
That color let him know he was having an effect on her. Interesting . He should stop, but he was a selfish SOB who wanted inside of her in a way he had never wanted another woman.
He stretched an arm across the top of the sofa, inches from touching her. “What about you? Do you think you’ll remarry?”
His gaze traveled from her face down to the swell of her breasts, his molars grinding against each other in jealousy at the mere thought of some future man having what he couldn’t.
Camila shrugged. “Don’t know. Like you, maybe one day. I’m not seeing anyone seriously at the moment, so I haven’t thought about it much.”
“Any man would be lucky to have you. I mean that.”
This conversation had turned into foreplay, and a familiar feeling came over him—one he knew all too well. Arousal. Climbing the inside of his thighs and resting behind the fly of his jeans.
“Any woman would be lucky to have you . You’re a good guy.”
He arched an eyebrow. If only she knew, he was a man with a dark heart, capable of anything.
“You are ,” she insisted. “You saved my life last night, and in case I forgot to tell you, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I would do it again.”
“Which is why you’re a good guy,” Camila said softly.
She was killing him with her soft voice and her eyes looking at him with—what? Hero worship? No. There was something else in her eyes.
He wound some of her hair around his fingers, testing the waters. “I haven’t been called good very often,” he said huskily. He gently tugged her hair, and her breath caught, a hint of surprise and excitement entering her eyes.
This was new and dangerous territory for them, but he wanted her. Oh, how he’d wanted her for ages. He leaned closer, his manhood swelling inside his boxers.
She licked her lips, turning them shiny and temptingly moist.
Alejandro took her hand and placed her palm over the bulge in his pants. She gasped and dropped her gaze. The message was clear. He wasn’t playing a game. His intention was to fuck her. To take his pleasure between her thighs and give as many orgasms as she could tolerate.
He leaned closer again to finally have the pleasure of tasting her lips. They were so close to each other he could practically feel the sparks jumping the short distance between them.
At that exact moment, Poodle lifted her front paws onto the sofa and barked. Alejandro had completely forgotten the damn dog was in the house.
Camila jumped back, snapping out of the trance that had ensnared them both. Her cheeks flushed. “I…” She looked shell-shocked, as if she didn’t understand what had happened.
A spasm of pain twisted inside his chest. “Camila?—”
She shot to her feet when he reached for her and looked at him as if she didn’t know him. Her rejection landed like an uppercut to the chin. Sudden, dizzying, brutal.
Slowly, Alejandro stood, and she picked up the dog, holding her close like a protective shield. “I-I don’t think…”
“Understood,” he said, saving her from further explanation.
“I’m going upstairs.”
“I will clean up.”
Their voices sounded stilted and unnatural, normal conversation acutely ab normal in the wake of such a peculiar interaction between them.
“Thanks.” She backed away and hurried from the room, rushing up the stairs with the dog in her arms.
Alejandro remained in the same spot for too long, reliving the warmth of her hand on him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her touch and was hard to the point of pain.
When he finally moved, he cleaned up the living room and walked up into the kitchen to place the leftover food in the refrigerator. The entire time he silently cursed himself for his behavior. He hadn’t misread her feelings, but clearly she didn’t want to feel desire for him—and definitely not act on it.
He had screwed up in a big way. For so long he had mastered the art of hiding her effect on him. Tonight the mask had slipped.
Because of his own selfish needs, he might have damaged their relationship for good.