One of the Guys (11 page)

A
lmost an hour later
, Diego went in search of Ronnie. Helping Tomas straighten up around the property kept him busy for some time. Then one of the guests tried to leave while intoxicated. His wife came running and begged Tomas and Diego to intervene. After extensive talking didn’t work, they wrestled him to the ground and took away the keys.

Diego thought Ronnie was in good hands with the other women, but neither Talia nor Shawna had seen her, and he felt a twinge of guilt for leaving her alone for so long.

Except she wasn’t alone. He found her in the living room, the only female among the men. Right at home between two black guys on the leather couch. The wiry one rested an arm along the back of the chair, behind her head. Earlier, when he saw the same guy with Ronnie, something in his face, his demeanor, suggested a more than friendly interest.

An unnatural feeling crawled up the back of Diego’s neck to his scalp. Ronnie spent a lot of time in the company of the opposite sex. At Taylor Automotive. At the sports bar. But seeing her here, surrounded by all these men, struck a nerve. To date, the only woman he’d ever heard her talk about was her cousin, Anika.

Doesn’t she know any women
?

The crawling sensation tightened his shoulders.

The room erupted, the men hollering at the TV screen when a ball player was pronounced safe on a run. Ronnie leaped from the chair, lifted a hand in the air, and crowed victoriously.

“Did you see that?” she yelled in the face of the man to her left.

She didn’t see Diego at the door, nor did she notice how the gaze of the man to her right lingered on her ass in his face.

Diego gritted his teeth. Those shorts were too damn short. One more inch and he’d see the underside of her bottom.

Her admirer jumped to his feet and yelled, “Yes!” Then he grabbed Ronnie around the waist and lifted her off the floor.

Diego saw red. He marched into the room, and by then the man had put Ronnie down, but his hand remained on her shoulder as they watched the instant replay, as if he couldn’t resist touching her. Tension tightened in Diego’s shoulders as the irritation turned into full-on pain and he faced the other man.

“¿
Qué pasa, pendejo
?” Possessive anger coursed through his veins. Not only had this man been ogling her, he’d put his damn hands on her, and Diego didn’t doubt for a minute the guy knew he and Ronnie were together.

Her admirer dropped his hand from her shoulder, and the smile vanished from Ronnie’s face. They may not know that he called the man an asshole, but the hostility in his face made his displeasure clear.

“Diego, hi,” Ronnie said in an overly cheery voice. “This is Edgar. Edgar, this is Diego.”

“Nice to meet you,” Edgar said.

Neither man extended a hand.

“You should keep your hands to yourself, Edgar,” Diego said, steel in his voice.

Ronnie’s eyes widened. “Diego.” She laughed shakily, clearly embarrassed.

Edgar lifted his hands in surrender. “I understand.”

“Do you?”

Edgar swallowed. “I got a little carried away.”

The room had fallen into an awkward silence, the only sound the announcers covering the baseball game. Diego flexed the fingers of his hand.

“Can we go, please?” Ronnie asked, gaze jerking around the room at their audience.

Diego didn’t move.

“Diego, please.”

His gaze shot to her, and her pleading expression finally got through to him. He took her by the wrist and pulled her out of the room and down the hall, into the kitchen where they could talk alone.

She yanked her arm away and whirled on him right away. “What the hell!”

“Is that what you’ve been doing for the past hour?” He was being an asshole but couldn’t stop himself. He clenched and unclenched his hands, itching to smash something.

“I was watching the game. I only planned to sit down for a few minutes while you worked. I lost track of time.” A perfectly reasonable response that did nothing to assuage his anger.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea for you to sit between all these men, dressed like that?” he asked in a vicious whisper.

Her wide eyes stretched wider. “Dressed like…” Ronnie glanced down at her clothes. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”

“The shorts. The tank top. Come on.”

Technically, there was nothing wrong with her clothes. Half the women at the picnic wore some variation of the same outfit, but what bothered him were the subtle changes he saw.

She used to wear loose-fitting clothes and didn’t care much about her appearance. Now she wore booty shorts and a shirt that showed off her toned arms and was so tight on her breasts he damn near saw the capillaries in her nipples.

“The way I dress bothers you? This?”

“Whose attention are you trying to get?” Diego demanded.

He didn’t get jealous. Ever. After Loisa cheated, he adopted a new perspective on relationships. If a woman wanted to step out on him while they were in a committed relationship, he’d show her the door. Why waste time with someone who didn’t want to be with him and him alone?

So he couldn’t comprehend the irrational monster that reared its hideous head where Ronnie was concerned. Why did it bother him so much that within the past week she’d started smelling different? She continued to use vanilla in her hair, but no more hibiscus-scented soap. A light, flowery fragrance perfumed her skin. And she put her slender figure on display more and more, in revealing clothes that at first he thought she only wore for him, but now he questioned if she was interested in snagging the attention of men like Edgar, who obviously had the hots for her.

Ronnie placed her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe you asked me whose attention I’m trying to get. But since you did, I’m not trying to get anyone’s attention.”

“No?” Diego edged nearer. Watching her closely. “Tell the truth. You don’t get a little thrill from having men check you out? From knowing that Edgar and at least half the men in there like looking at your pretty legs? Your perfect breasts?”

He was getting hard just thinking about her body in those terms.

She blinked and swallowed. “Everyone likes to be noticed by the opposite sex. It’s only natural.”

“So you admit it.”

“I’m not admitting anything.” She heaved a loud sigh. “Look, I’m not used to this type of reaction.”

“Well, get used to it,” Diego snarled. “I’m not going to sit still and let another man put his fucking hands all over my woman. He’s lucky I didn’t punch him in his goddamn face with that slick-ass move.”

Her eyes widened. “Lower your voice.”

“I will not lower my
fucking
voice!”

A lanky teenaged boy pulled up short at the entrance to the kitchen. “Um…Talia sent me in here to get a tray of chicken.”

“Over there.” Diego jabbed a finger at the containers sitting on the stove.

The young man rushed over and lifted the aluminum foil on the first container, confirming that it was the chicken. He then picked up the meat and hurried out.

Diego paced the floor, dragging large quantities of air into his lungs with deep, heavy inhalations. His insides burned with jealous anger.

Ronnie stood in front of the window, resting her back against the sink and staring at the floor. “So I’m your woman?”

Diego stopped moving at the quietly asked question.

She lifted her gaze to him, the question repeated in her eyes.

He ambled over to stand directly in front of her. “Yes, you’re my woman.” It was time he made that clear. No more ambiguity.

“If I’m your woman, you should trust me.”

“I trust you. It’s them I don’t trust.” He pointed at the door.

“No one is paying attention to me like you think they are.”

“You simply don’t notice.”

It was laughable, really, her lack of guile when it came to men. Even women noticed her. Shawna had commented on her toned body and “fierce” haircut.

What she mistook for lack of attention from men was actually intimidation. They’d learned she’d cut them down with harsh words or a well-placed glare, and while he teased her about her “resting bitch face,” the expression kept most men from approaching.

She might not be the kind of woman who stopped traffic, but in a room full of men, unless they were all blind, she definitely did not go unnoticed. Especially with her beautiful brown legs on display and a tank top that hugged her torso so well it showed off her pert breasts and left nothing to the imagination.

Diego placed a hand on either side of her and gazed into her eyes. He could get lost in those warm brown pools. “What if I tell you I’m jealous?” he asked. His gut clenched. He felt vulnerable, baring his soul.

“I would say you have nothing to be jealous about,” Ronnie replied, her voice whisper soft. “I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t flattered when another man pays attention to me, but I only want your attention. I only care about what you think.” She lifted the hat off his head and placed it on hers at a jaunty angle. “You always talk about how nice my legs are. I wore these shorts for you.”

Diego grimaced. Maybe he was an asshole.

“Do you trust me?” Ronnie sifted her fingers through his hair. The light touch further calmed his raging temper.

He rested his forehead against hers. His failed relationship with Loisa affected him more than he realized. The changes he saw in Ronnie were signs he ignored in his ex during his periods of insobriety. Only later did he recognize that the shift in her behavior had been caused by another man.

A man who bought her lace panties, perfume, and jewelry. Which she proudly wore with confidence. Right under Diego’s nose. And he never had a clue.

“I trust you,” he said, throat tight.

“Good.”

He looked deeply into her eyes and saw nothing but sweetness and affection.

“
But
you’re still coming outside with me. You’re not going back into that room.”

“Diego.”

He touched his mouth to hers. Gently, softly, he kissed her, swirling his tongue between her lips. One hand moved under her shirt and found soft skin. He grasped her waist and pulled her closer. Nudging her mouth wider, he casually swept from one end to the next, tasting the sweet-as-honey flavor.

“Let’s go before I take you right here in my cousin’s kitchen.” She giggled softly and he took her by the hand. “Am I going to get my hat back?”

She pressed the fedora flatter on her head. “Nope. It’s mine for the rest of the evening. That’s your punishment for making me miss the rest of the game.”

They joined the festivities outside, and as darkness fell, he watched her playing with the children and joking around with his friends and family.

He’d learn to accept the camaraderie she shared with men another day. He knew that without a doubt. Those relationships were part of who she was, and in all honesty he didn’t want her to change. But right now, he wanted to keep her close. Because as much as she fit in comfortably with the men, there was no denying that Ronnie Taylor was all woman.

R
onnie couldn’t believe it
. Her father was finally taking Miss Loretta on a date. Ever since the neighbor escorted him to the doctor for his cataract surgery, the two had become very close. They went to church together and even carpooled to the grocery store on Saturdays.

Nervous but excited, Ronnie bounced anxiously in the entryway, waiting for her father to descend the stairs. Miss Loretta liked him well enough, but he could be rather abrasive, and she wanted to inspect his clothing and give him a few pointers before he left.

Ezekiel finally came down the stairs in a light blue shirt and colorful tie, over which he wore a dark jacket and dark slacks. He looked very dashing.

When his feet hit the hardwood floor, Ezekiel smoothed a hand down his tie. “How do I look?”

Ronnie made a big show of doing a full inspection. She circled him and checked out the shiny shoes and his newly cut hair.

“Not bad,” she said, placing her hands on her hips.

“You think I don’t know how to impress a lady?”

“Clearly you do.” She smiled fondly at him. “Enjoy yourself, okay?”

“I plan to.”

“And be nice.”

“I know how to be nice, nugget.”

His eyes were focused on a point on the wall behind her, and he continued to smooth a hand down his tie. He was so deep in thought, she was certain he didn’t even know he was doing it.

“I need a new bathrobe,” he said, his voice quivering a little.

Her chest tightened. This was a big step for her father. “Okay.”

His eyes focused on her face. “We can put the old one in a box. I don’t want to throw it away. We should put it in storage or something.”

Ronnie nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

Ezekiel’s hand dropped to his side.

Ronnie kissed his cheek, leaving her mouth pressed to his skin for a long time. “It’s okay, Daddy.”

“Yeah.”

The dinner date was at five, so it was still light out, and she stood in the doorway and watched him get in the car. “Call me if you’re going to stay out all night so I don’t worry,” she said.

Her father glared at her out the window, and Ronnie laughed so hard her stomach hurt. Ezekiel pulled into Miss Loretta’s driveway and walked to the front door. He rang the bell and waited.

Miss Loretta came out in a curly red wig—fuller and thicker than the others Ronnie had seen her wear before.

“Go ahead, Miss Loretta,” she murmured.

Her father took the neighbor by the arm and escorted her to the car. After she was seated, he walked around to the driver’s side and paused. He lifted a hand at Ronnie, and she waved.

So many years had passed since her father dated, and for that brief moment, she felt like a parent seeing her child off to the prom or their first date.

Seconds later, they pulled away.

O
ne Friday evening
, rather than go out, Ronnie and Diego stayed at his place binge-watching episodes of
Battle Creek
, a show starring Josh Duhamel that should never have been cancelled, as far as Ronnie was concerned.

Two half-eaten extra-large boxes of pizza lay open on the coffee table, and Ronnie had a leg draped over Diego’s thigh. Bonkers lounged atop the armrest of the sofa, eyes closed, purring contentedly at Diego’s continuous petting and ear scratches. He’d once explained to Ronnie that Bonkers possessed a mean streak. If he didn’t shower her with attention when she demanded it, she shredded the toilet tissue in the bathroom.

Ronnie wore a pair of drawstring shorts under one of Diego’s white sleeveless undershirts that she’d grown quite fond of for their roominess and scent of him.

He flung his arm around her shoulder and she snuggled closer.

“How did the date with Miss Loretta go?” he asked.

“Excellent. Daddy and Miss Loretta spend even more time together now, and they’re planning a senior trip with the church. Outside of the volunteer work he does, I’ve never seen him so active.”

“I’m a little jealous,” Diego said darkly.

Ronnie giggled. “Your bromance is going to have to cool down for a while. I was starting to feel a little insecure, that maybe you only came to the house to see him and not me.”

Diego and her father had become close. On Sundays, the three watched sports and Ezekiel taught Diego how to grill, going so far as to share the recipe for his secret rub.

“Unless she plans to work with him in the yard, I don’t have anything to worry about,” Diego said.

He helped Ezekiel work in the yard and did odd jobs around the house. Diego loved to garden, having a small vegetable and herb garden that produced hearty tomatoes. He helped Ezekiel with his own garden, and in the front of the house, they’d planted flowers. The S-shaped design Diego created rivaled their professor-neighbor’s flowerbeds. Both Diego and Ezekiel spent a lot of time in the yard, pruning bushes and cutting back hedges—work Ronnie had no desire to do.

On more than one occasion she’d found the duo sitting on the back patio, Diego with his chair tipped back and both of them sipping lemonade or iced tea. They discussed politics, music, women, and any topic that came to mind. Two men just enjoying each other’s company. During those moments, she left them alone so they could have the time to themselves.

She recognized the situation for what it was. Ezekiel had become a father figure. An older male figure Diego could look up to and spend time with—an experience missing from his childhood.

“Have you decided if you’ll attend Daddy’s dinner party?”

Sumpter Technical College had arranged a special dinner for Ezekiel, a thank you for the hours he’d spent giving the students a real-world view of being a mechanic. His no-nonsense straight talk, as well as the wealth of knowledge he provided, was well received not only by the students, but by the teachers. The dinner happened to be the same night as the Anniversary, the day Diego’s daughter passed away.

“I think it’ll be good for you to do something, instead of staying home by yourself,” Ronnie said lightly.

She didn’t want to push too hard. Normally he spent the Anniversary alone, but she’d suggested the night out could help keep his mind off the tragedy of losing his daughter.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

“And…?”

He looked at her. “You’re right. There’s absolutely no reason why I should stay home by myself. And it’s nice what they’re doing for your father.”

“Are you sure?”

Diego nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “I don’t think the pain will ever go away, but I don’t want to stay in that place anymore. I want to move past it, and participating in normal activities is a good way to do that.”

People grieved differently, and Diego had spent two years consumed with grief after his daughter died. To see him taking a step toward acceptance, without guilt or regret, warmed her heart.

Two episodes of
Battle Creek
later, Ronnie yawned and stretched. “I’m hungry again and I don’t want any more pizza. Let’s go out to eat. I want something hearty. You feel like steak?”

“Let me answer you this way—do Cubans do it better?”

“Well, I really don’t know—” Her tart reply ended on a squeal when he snatched her onto his lap and held her tight so he could tickle her relentlessly. She hated the fact that she was ticklish, and he mercilessly punished her whenever he thought she was acting up.

“Stop! Stop!” Ronnie gasped. She wound up face down in the sofa with her hands behind her back and Diego’s fingers poking her waistline.

“Do Cubans do it better?” he asked behind her.

“Yes! The best,” she choked out, gasping and laughing at the same time.

He let her go and pulled her onto his lap. Ronnie pouted, swiping tears from her eyes. He just gave her one of his wicked smiles and nuzzled her neck. As usual, delicious tingles sprinkled along her neck and shoulders, making her small breasts feel heavy and full.

Goodness, this man drove her crazy. He cupped the back of her head and nipped at her jaw with his teeth and lips.

“I hate you so much,” she said, angling her neck so he could drop more kisses with ease.

“But I
love
you,” he whispered.

He’d said the words lightly, but they both stopped moving. There was nothing light about using that word. It may very well be the most powerful word in the world—in the universe. A word that at the same time it threatened weakness, offered strength. Broke hearts and mended them.

“Where do you want to go eat?” he asked, as though he hadn’t dropped a bomb in the middle of their conversation.

“There’s a Longhorn nearby,” Ronnie responded with a saucy smile, following suit.

“Sounds good to me.”

She wiggled from his lap. “Let me run to the bathroom and then we can leave.”

Halfway to the bathroom, she doubled back and leaned over the back of the sofa and dropped a soft kiss to Diego’s cheek. He looked up in surprise.

“I love you, too,” she said, and scurried off. But not before she saw the way his green eyes lit up.