Chapter Six
Celeste bit her thumbnail. How could she be thinking about shower sex after last night? But hearing the water splashing against the tile got her imagination going. He was in there, his nude body all soapy. Maybe he needed help washing his back. She sat up, a huge grin on her face. Her hair fell over her shoulder in a tangled clump. She grimaced. Very unsexy. Tiptoeing over to her bag, she dug through to find a brush. Her phone sat in a corner, the screen bright within the dark interior. It had to be Oz. Who else would be reaching out? Her clients knew about the “vacation”, and she set up their posts weeks in advance.
She rolled her lips, her thumb hovering over the start button. Reading texts from her father, while naked, reached an unimaginable level of icky. She went back to the bed, pulling the sheet to wrap it around her, then sat at the edge. Half dreading what she’d read, she pushed the button.
I have to leave. There’s an unexpected situation, but I’ll have someone meet you.
Shoulders slumped, she frowned at the phone while she pulled the cover high up on her chest. After all the stress and worry, she wasn’t even going to see him. His message had sounded like she had to get down here pronto.
“Everything all right?” Rio padded in from the bathroom wearing jeans and the towel he’d slung across his neck.
Her gaze shot to him then back to the screen. “Uh… Change of plans.” She brought the phone to her chest. “My father had to rework his schedule. The city’s flooded so…” She hitched a shoulder. She was still somewhere between relief, uncertainty, and disappointment.
For a moment he just stared, his gaze wandering across her face. She gasped inwardly. I must look like a hot mess. A blush raced up her chest and face. She smoothed her hair over her shoulder like a makeshift ponytail.
“Does that mean we don’t have to rush out of here?” he asked, dropping his bag on the corner of the bed.
She glanced up at him, finding him a little apprehensive and a little hopeful. Maybe things didn’t have to end so soon. “I suppose so, if you’d like.” She forced saliva past the thick knot in her throat. Were these morning-after jitters? “We could go to breakfast,” she suggested.
“Brunch,” he teased.
Morning sex had proved just as memorable as the night before, and as the images flashed through her mind she blushed again, knowing it gave her thoughts away. Biting her lip to stifle a grin, she murmured, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He came around to take her face in his hands, tilting it back for his kiss. Her lips were wonderfully sensitive, swollen from everything they’d done over the past few hours.
“Why don’t you shower? I’ll go check on the rental then we’ll grab a bite and see where we go from there.”
She nodded then got up, dragging the sheet around her like an old-fashioned gown, leaving room for her to walk. A contented smile stretched across her lips. “I won’t be long.”
“Good.” He reached into his bag, pulling out a shirt. “If they don’t have a car, I’ll walk over to the diner and bring something back.”
“Perfect.”
“What do I get you?”
You with a side of sex. She reeled back the words. “Scrambled eggs, plain, with a side of ham. Wheat bread, lightly toasted.”
“You got it.” He winked, watching her go by like a cat fixing to pounce. “I’ll text you when I’m heading back.”
“Okay.” She rattled off her number before she ducked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She put the phone on the counter, dropping the sheet on the toilet lid only to have it slide to the floor in a crumpled pile. One look in the mirror and she realized she looked just as bad. Eeek. Why hadn’t she gotten up to brush her hair? She ran her fingers through the tangles. How could a man like him be looking at her like he was ready to jump her…again? The wonder of it all still blew her away.
She turned on the water, stepping into the shower. Her father’s cryptic message wandered into her thoughts as she poured shampoo. The unexpected situation, could that be the people after him? As always, she wondered who “they” were. Did he mean the authorities or someone else? Did they want to arrest him or kill him? Those questions kept her up for countless nights after she’d made the mistake of Googling him.
Once her mother died, their visits had been few and far between. The calls brief, and on private lines. A few months ago, the texts started. She still had trouble picturing a man like Oz texting, but he’d said it was safer. Now the dreaded visit was postponed. Though she should be thankful for the reprieve. She grinned. How could she complain if she was getting Rio for a little longer? If she ended up in Houston for a while, why not plan dinner. A movie. What else did regular people do on dates?
…
Bud set out a pen and the paperwork for the rental. “You didn’t scare off that sweet little girl after I dropped ya off, ditcha?”
Rio suppressed a smile. “Nah, Bud. I didn’t. We’re grabbing breakfast then heading out.” He scrawled his usual, illegible signature, losing some of his cheer. The countdown had begun the moment the sun came up. Check on a rental. Breakfast. Drive to Houston. Say good-bye. Rio grimaced inwardly. What could he say to Bud? I don’t do long-term. I’ll make sure she doesn’t have a hard time walking away. Maybe a plain I’m a fucking bastard would explain everything.
Bud frowned. “Ya thinking she’s gonna kick ya to the curb when you get to the city?”
“Could be.” He kept his reply short, hoping things would end there.
“Yeah.” Bud took a deep breath while he folded the contract and put it in an envelope. “The good ones are smart that way.”
“Yup.” He gathered the paperwork, needing to get the hell out of town. Things would go back to normal when he got to Houston. The anxiety curling inside him was just the need to be in the thick of things.
“Well, some of us are smart enough to keep at it.” Bud slapped the keys on the counter and gave him a pointed look. “And I didn’t take you fer no fool, son.”
“Things are what they are, Bud.” He scooped up the key ring and took the proffered hand. “Thanks for everything.”
“Hope things work out.”
Rio adjusted the bag over his shoulder, heading to the lot next to the building. A solitary vehicle sat in the fourth slot, waiting for him. He unlocked the SUV, tossing his bag in the passenger’s seat before getting in. For once, he didn’t do a preliminary check. In fact, he hadn’t bothered to look around on the way out the building. Right now, he didn’t give a damn about anything that might happen to him.
Pulling out of the airport, he headed toward town, conscious of the ticking clock. By sundown he’d be walking away from her and everything that happened in the last eighteen hours. Every smile. Every touch. Every emotion that flashed across her beautiful face. He’d touched her, memorizing every soft, tempting inch of her. Enjoying the way her body tightened. Undulated. Hot, wet, and needy just for him. He never thought those images would come back to haunt him.
Ahead, a crossing guard came down by the railroad tracks while a faraway whistle cut through the air. He’d just driven close to three miles without a conscious thought of his surroundings. The train caught up to the crossing, leaving him to sit and watch the lights alternating on the cross-guard. The line of faded boxcars stretched out into the distance, the end blocked by an oversize stop sign.
Shaking himself, he took stock. He should grab Celeste and go to Houston, but what he wanted was another night in Breman. For a few hours, he’d learned what it was to be happy. Lighthearted. A word nobody had ever used to describe him. But it was true. He traced it back to when Celeste admitted she was apprehensive because of a new experience, not having second thoughts.
He’d stayed in bed for hours. Holding her. Listening to the sound of her even breathing. Watching as she lay there, relaxed, boneless, in a deep, motionless sleep after hours of intense, searing-hot sex. A canvas so wonderfully open and innocent that he could hardly believe she existed.
She’d been adorable, worried they’d get a noise complaint. So he’d used his newly found knowledge of her body and hit her tickle spots until she was dissolving in a fit of giggles. Laughter had come so easily. Then the neighbor’s bed squeaked, and a low moan filtered through the wall. Wide-eyed, she’d slapped a hand over her mouth.
“Oh my God,” she’d whispered. “Do you think they heard us? Is that how we sounded?”
He’d pretended to think about it. “No. I think it was more like this.” And he’d pounced, ready to show her they weren’t going to be outdone.
Fuck. He slouched back in the seat, hitting the cushioned headrest. Above him, tucked into the visor, sat a safety list with Bud’s name clearly written at the bottom, next to yesterday’s date and time. Eight seventeen. He could’ve been on the road last night. Something sharp pierced his chest. No, he refused to think about what he’d been doing at eight seventeen last night, or where he’d anchored her leg. And those damn purrs.
I’m an idiot. It was one of the few times his head wasn’t in sync with his instincts.
His head knew his job, and his life, didn’t include room for a woman. Never had. And he’d thought it never would… His instincts, which kept him alive, safe, and whole, screamed for him to stop so loudly, the letters seemed to stand out from the big, red sign. The fact he’d be leaving Celeste had been clawing at the back of his mind since he’d seen her sitting in bed, wrapped in the sheet.
The image of her, eyes widening in realization, flashed through his head. You don’t have to hide here, Celeste. Nobody knows you, not even me. Yeah, what an eye opener, when she figured out she didn’t have to be her everyday self. Not here, not with him. His self-deprecating scoff echoed off the roof. Pendejo, because the word idiot didn’t offer enough self-loathing to satisfy him.
He put the gear to park and pulled out his cell phone. “Yeah.” Kris, his lead, answered on the first ring, unintelligible voices in the background.
“I’m not coming.” They’d worked together long enough that no preamble was needed.
“Hang on,” he said without missing a beat. “Get out.” Chair legs scuffed. Mumbling. Door closed.
Rio smiled in spite of himself. “You got some way with words.” Silence. But he could picture the dead stare Kris was known for.
“What’s her name?”
Wheels clanked to each side of him, while he smirked at the windshield. Damn, wouldn’t have figured it was that obvious.
“We’re the same cut of bastard, Rio.” Eyebrow raised, Rio nodded to himself. There was no denying the truth. “The only time the job didn’t come first was because of Tessa. And you’ll remember, one of your guys almost shot me in the process.” Kris had reminded him of that fact more than once.
Rio remained silent. Yesterday he would’ve thrown out his usual “shit happens when you break rank”. Today he knew better.
“You’ve had your eye on Ayala ever since shit started with Guerrero. So I have to ask, what would trump you bringing in the head of one of the biggest cartels in Mexico.”
His job had always come first, and tearing down the cartel had been the single most important thing in his life… until now. Until her. The light to his darkness. His angel.
“Celeste,” he said, quietly. “Her name is Celeste.”
The line went silent. He could almost picture Kris processing his words. For a moment he felt a prick at his conscience. But really, he’d been on days off. If he was anyone else he wouldn’t have even been notified.
The last boxcar went by. “All right. Check in when you get back. We’ll see how things are going.”
“Will do.” Relief washed through him, then turned to anticipation. They hung up, and he immediately sent her a text. On my way. As soon as the guard went up he was gone, speeding toward the hotel with a smile on his face and a huge weight off his shoulders.
He pulled into the small parking area and went inside, leaving his bag in the SUV. He suddenly had a craving for something much more luscious. Maybe he’d find Celeste naked, having washed away his scent and everything that happened between them last night. A smile hooked the corner of his lips. There were so many ways he’d mark her all over again. He slipped the keycard in the lock and ducked inside.