Chapter 14 #2
“Thanks, and you’re not. Hasta la tambora is just a saying, but it would be difficult to explain. Just know that he’s proud to be Dominican.” He looks to the side, as if reminiscing. “They raised us speaking it at home, so it was my first language.”
“Us?” He has siblings? There’s more of this eye candy, strong man out there? The world is simply not a safe place if that’s the case.
“My brothers, Lucas and Oliver, and me.”
"Three Dominic Diazes walking around. What a sight to see.” I one hundred percent said that out loud, but I don’t care. Not when this food is this good, and I’m about to crash in bed with a full tummy. “I have two siblings too,” I add mid-bite.
“I know. Lilly, and I’m assuming a middle sister?” he asks.
“Mm-hmm, Willa, the peacekeeper.” He’s chatty tonight. I like it.
“Do you have a nickname for Lilly too?”
I smile devilishly. I do, but I don’t think it would be fair for me to share it, since he’s employed by Lilly, the overbearing one, and all. “I do, but if I tell you…”
“You’d have to kill me?”
I throw a fist in the air in celebration. “I love that you get my old movie references.”
“Riley, I am old. I’m surprised you know those.”
“How old?” I wiggle my eyebrows, earning me a shake of his head; not an annoyed one, more like a I’m sick of your shit but I like it one.
“Thirty six,” he replies. That’s not that old, just like a whole ass decade more than me. A decade of lived experiences I can’t match.
But it doesn’t matter, because, “I have an old soul,” I add and wink at him. I take the last bite of food and take the plate to the sink. “I’ll wash it and return it soon.”
I open the fridge, grab a chocolate milk, and shake it in the air, trying to pull a smile out of him again. “Want one?”
“Of course you would drink chocolate milk.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I toss it to him as I grab another one for me. “Drink it. It’ll help you fall asleep. I’m also done up there, so no more light. I’m sorry about that. Would curtains help you? I can go get you some.”
“I like the moonlight coming through the windows.”
I smile. “We have that in common. It’s the reason I like painting up there.”
I sip on my chocolate milk, nodding for him to do the same. He considers it, eyes the milk carton then me. I wiggle my eyebrows before closing my eyes, letting my eyelashes kiss the top of my cheeks and smile. “Do it,” I whisper, straw between my teeth.
The wrapper breaks, and when I snap my eyes open, there he is, sipping on his chocolate milk like a good boy.
“Perfect, isn’t it?”
He hums, squeezing his carton and stepping around the kitchen island to toss it in the trash.
Or, at least, I assume, but instead, he towers over me, eyes trained on mine, but I don’t dare to break contact as I sip the last bit of milk.
The bubbles gurgle, and I let go of the straw with a quiet pop, which he takes as his sign to grab the carton from my lips.
The air between us is filled with an energy I can’t quite describe or grasp, but it’s one I can’t wait to snap.
It’s too much.
Suffocating.
Inebriating.
He’s like a sip of a crisp beer after a hot day, and I can’t get enough, even if it’s just a few words here or there. I swallow hard, mimicking his hard stare and the way his Adam's apple bobs. The back of our fingers brush against each other, ever so slightly, but enough to jolt us both back.
He tosses the cartons onto the trashcan. “I better go. It’s past eleven, and a very chirpy neighbor wakes me up before dawn.”
“I’m being as quiet as a mouse in the mornings. You are just too light of a sleeper. Why don’t you take some melatonin or something?”
He spears the way towards the front door. “I never needed help staying asleep before; I’ll get used to it again.”
“Kay. Sorry again.” I hold the door open as he steps onto the porch.
“Don’t sweat it. Neighbors have to make sacrifices all the time. I guess mine is sleep.”
“And mine is my music.”
We both laugh. What a gift I’ve been given, to make this man laugh like that.
“You know, you’re actually kind of nice sometimes,” I say.
Although he’s smiling, there’s a scowl that never leaves his eyes. Maybe that will be my next goal: get this man to relax for real.
“Why does that sound like an insult?” he asks
I roll my eyes. “You’re impossible. It’s a compliment. I’ll start keeping those to myself from now on then.”
His fingers brush over his thick beard, his hand freezing halfway down the length. “It sounded like you were disappointed I was kind of nice.”
I laugh this time. “Oh, I was.” I have lost all my filters with this man. Is it because I breathe easier around him, or because I love surprising him with my shit? Either way, we’ll never know.
The confusion that slaps him in the face is borderline comical. “Why?”
I shrug. “Well, because now, I might have to like you.”
He opens his mouth, but no words escape. He just pauses and searches my face. I left him speechless.
Again.
I love it here.
He closes the space between us. What is he doing?
He dips low next to my ear. Goosebumps break out all over my skin as his lips all but brush the shell of my ear. “Would that be unfortunate, Riley? Liking me?” His voice is deep, reaching the inner parts of my soul as shivers spread through me.
Damn.
“Tragic,” I whisper, my voice shaking, unable to contain the way he’s affecting me.
He hums in approval or calls my bluff, one of the two. When he decides to take a step back, I don’t know if twenty seconds or twenty minutes have passed, but it feels like a wrinkle in time.
I’m dizzy.
He’s dizzying.
And I think… No, I actually know in this moment that I really, really like this man, more than just physical attraction. Which I have too, because how can one not? The skin, the dimples, the hair, that edge he has about him, and those damn biceps too.
The only thing tethering me in place is this door frame I’m clinging to for dear life. I hope he can’t see how much he’s affecting me, or I will never hear the end of it.
“Goodnight, Riley,” he says, walking backwards toward his cabin, taking the ounce of sanity I had left.
“Night!” I shout, because if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I won’t let him see the reality behind my reactions.
“Lock the door!” he shouts again from across the pasture.
I do just that, locking it and sliding to the floor, my back to the door, my brain reeling. What the fuck am I going to do if I can’t get over this crush I have on the grumpy older cowboy next door?
It’s going to be a looooong summer.