Rock Chick 07 Regret (84 page)

We fought about the furniture because I wanted to help pay.

He refused.

I pushed it.

We came to a stalemate.

Days later, in bed, he held off letting me finish until I begged him then he demanded I shut up about the furniture and I agreed.

Turnabout, I guessed, was fair play.

I wasn’t complaining.

The zipper went all the way down, Hector got off the bed, the dress was pulled off at my ankles and I heard the heavy material land somewhere in the room.

This should have alarmed me. The dress was velvet, it was gorgeous and it was expensive.

I didn’t lift my head.

Instead, I laid in nothing but a pair of emerald green, French cut panties on the bed.

I heard Hector’s boots then clothing hit the floor then he came back to me. I was pulled up, rolled into him, the covers yanked out from under me then snapped back over me. I settled with my head on his chest, my arm around his abs.

“Sadie, the pins in your hair are jabbing my skin.”

“Blooming heck,” I muttered, rolled with a heavy sigh to my back and started to pull the pins out of my hair.

Hector got up on an elbow and watched me.

Then he asked, “What’d we buy Hank and Roxie for their wedding?”

My hands in my hair stilled and just my eyeballs rolled to look at Hector.

Hector and I had bought Eddie and Jet a brand new kitchen for their wedding. Jet loved to cook, Eddie was fixing up their house but on a cop’s budget and with work and Rock Chick duties taking up most of his time, he’d not gotten around to giving her a new kitchen. I heard her (on several occasions) waxing poetic about how she’d love something “state-of-the-art”.

So Hector and I gave it to her.

It cost twenty thousand dollars and it made two hot-blooded Mexican-American men temporarily lose their minds.

Jet, at first, had been shocked.

Then, when I explained myself, she’d been understanding then appreciative then gleeful.

Blanca went straight to gleeful and started hinting (broadly) that she needed a new kitchen too (Hector didn’t know it yet, but that was her Christmas present).

Jet had talked Eddie around. It took awhile but she did it.

“Um…” I answered Hector’s question.

He fell to his back, stared at ceiling and muttered, “Fuck.”

I got up on my elbow and looked down at him, hair half falling down, half still in pins.

“Hector! I’m loaded! What am I going to do with my money but spend it on friends?”

He got up on his elbow, Mr. Mood Swing fully morphed into anger and faced me. “I don’t know,” he clipped. “Save it? Put our kids through college with it? If tonight was anything to go by, we’ll need it to pay for their goddamned weddings. Fuck, knowin’ you, we’ll need every last penny to pay for ours.”

My breath went out of me in a whoosh.

Then it came back on a surge.

Then I whispered, “What?”

“You heard me,” he shot back.

I sat up and looked down at him. “Are you asking me marry you?”

He sat up and faced me. “Are you shittin’ me?”

I blinked.

Then I said, “No.”

“What do you think we’re doin’ here? Playin’ house?”

I blinked again.

“Christ, Sadie,” he clipped. “Look at my fuckin’ arm.”

I looked but I didn’t have to. He’d had the rose tattooed there months ago, within weeks of me moving in.

It was extraordinary, the stem, the leaves, the petals all exquisitely drawn and filled in with vibrant colors. It had taken two goes, the outline first then, weeks later, after that healed, the filling in.

My heart fluttered then my belly fluttered then I whispered, “Hector –”

“What’d we get Hank and Roxie?” he ground out, interrupting me.

I decided just to answer and get it over with.

“It didn’t cost as much as the kitchen,” I told him.

“What’d we get?” he repeated.

“Nowhere
near
as much as the kitchen,” I said for good measure.

He gave me The Scorch.

I sighed.

“We bought them a full set of Mikasa china.”

Hector just kept giving me The Scorch.

“Twelve place settings,” I went on.

He continued The Scorch.

“And… um… serving dishes.”

More Scorch.

“And their silver.”

Still more Scorch.

“With the hostess set.”

More Scorch.

“That’s it,” I finished.

He dropped to his back, muttering, “
Dios mio
.”

I pulled my lips in then my hands went back to my hair and I yanked out the rest of the pins.

While I did this, Hector laid with the back of his arm over his eyes, the rose tattoo on full display.

I shook my fingers through my hair then leaned into him, reaching to the nightstand, I dropped the pins on it and then settled with my chest on his.

“Hector,” I called.

Silence and no movement.

“Maybe we should…” I hesitated, not sure if now was the right time, “talk about what I did for Christmas.”

All of a sudden, he moved, his arms went around me, I was on my back, he was on top.

“I hope you got your energy back,
mamita
, because you owe me for this,” he announced, displaying, again, very bizarre Hector Logic then his face disappeared in my neck.

His tongue touched below my ear, I did a casual back flip in the lovely warm waters where I cavorted now in my life as a happy mermaid, my arms went around him and I smiled at the ceiling.

* * * * *

Early Christmas morning, the doorbell rang.

Since I’d been up for the last hour waiting for it, I was awake and immediately rolled out of bed.

“I got it,
mamita,
” Hector muttered, rolling out the other side.

I ignored him and put on my panties.

“Sadie, I got it,” Hector repeated and I looked at him as I shrugged on one of his flannels. He had on a pair of rust-colored, drawstring sweatpants, the hems loose instead of gathered around his ankles.

I pulled on a pair of heathered gray, fleecy shorts with notches at the hips while Hector yanked on a black thermal.

I also, by the way, pulled in my lips.

Hector stopped dressing and stared at me.

Then he put his hands to his hips.

“What have you done?” he asked.

The doorbell rang again.

I dashed out of the bedroom.

Hector followed a lot slower but since his legs were also longer, he caught up to me at the foot of the stairs and pulled me behind him. I got close as he walked to the door, unlocked it and tugged it open.

I peeked around Hector’s body.

Jack stood there.

“Hi, Jack,” I said. “Merry Christmas.”

Jack’s eyes came to me and then (no kidding!), he winked.

Then his hand came up and he held out a set of keys to Hector.

Hector looked at the keys then at Jack.

Jack jerked his head to the street where a brand new, shiny, black GMC Yukon was parked behind Hector’s Bronco.

When Hector didn’t take the keys, Jack tossed them in the air and Hector’s hand shot out and caught them. Jack grinned at me, turned, walked across the porch, down the steps and to the car parked behind the Yukon. Jack’s girlfriend, Melinda (one of Smithie’s strippers, Jack was the only Nightingale man who didn’t care if his girlfriend stripped), was sitting in the front seat waving at us, a big, goofy grin on her face.

I waved back.

Jack got into the driver’s side and took off.

Hector closed the door.

Then, slowly, he turned to me.

I got one look at his face and started backing up, across the platform then down the steps.

“It’s really for me,” I told him.

He advanced.

I kept backing up.

“It’s selfish, I know but you never take one of Lee’s Explorers. I want to make sure you’re safe.”

He kept advancing.

The back of my foot hit the stairs.

“Merry Christmas!” I shouted stupidly.

He stopped advancing slowly and launched himself at me.

I whirled and ran up the stairs.

I tripped almost all the way up and he caught me at the waist before I fell, swung me up in his arms, my limbs flying out-of-control.

“Hector!” I yelled but he walked with long strides to the bedroom and tossed me on the bed.

I turned, got on all fours and scrambled.

He caught my ankles, yanked my knees out from under me so I was on my belly and he landed on top of me.

I squirmed.

He slid off the side but one of his heavy thighs was on mine, his face in my neck, his hand went straight into my shorts and panties, sliding over my bottom to between my legs.

I stilled.

His hand kept going until his fingers curved around and hit the spot.

I whimpered and twisted my head. His mouth was there and he kissed me, hot, deep, wet, urgent and fiery.

We went at it, all hands, mouths, teeth and tongues (then other parts of our anatomy).

It was wild.

It was beautiful.

After, I was on top, still connected to him, my face in his throat, my breath still heavy.

Both his hands were cupping my bottom.

“You just can’t stop yourself can you?” he asked, referring to the Yukon.

I shook my head, burrowed closer and gave him a squeeze with my arms (and other parts of me besides). His fingers tensed on my bottom.

“Had my eye on one of those for a long time,
mamita,
” he muttered, still referring to the Yukon.

“I know,” I replied softly. Then, for some reason, into his throat, uber-quietly, I whispered, “I love you, babe.”

His body went still.

Then he rolled so I was on the bottom, he was on top.

His head came up and I saw his face was warm, his eyes, though, were hot.

He touched his mouth to mine and muttered, “
Y te amo también, mi cielo
.”

And, from Blanca’s lessons, I knew this meant,
And I love you too, my sky.

My belly fluttered and I smiled at him.

He smiled back.

His mouth was coming toward mine when the doorbell rang again.

Instead of kissing me, his forehead came to rest on mine and he mumbled, “Jesus.”

We did the getting up and putting on clothes thing again and walked downstairs, side-by-side, his arm around my shoulders, mine around his waist.

He opened the door.

Buddy and Ralphie were standing there. Ralphie was holding a squirming, panting, blond-faced, black-bodied German Shepherd puppy with a big, red and green striped ribbon around its neck.

“Oh my God!” I squealed, the puppy jumped at my squeal, its eyes coming to me, it leaped out of Ralphie’s arms into mine. “Buddy, you wonderful man, you got Ralphie a puppy!”