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Andrés, why can’t it be enough that I love you? That I want to spend forever with you. Why must you expect so much more? I’m not ready for marriage and a family. I don’t know if I ever will be.
Christina, I need to know that what I’m putting into this relationship isn’t all for nothing. To me, you mean everything. But I won’t be your stepping stone. Because as much as it would kill me, if you refuse to commit to something more, I will walk away.
Will Christina ever be ready? Will Andrés stay or walk? Will their love endure or is it doomed before they even have a chance?
EXCERPT:
“I haven’t seen you in a while,
Andrés. How have you been?”
My
hands go clammy as I give the military doctor a blank stare. Why did I think it
would be a good idea to come here? Oh, yeah, closure. That’s what I kept
telling myself on the drive to the VA hospital. I wanted to let Doctor Barnes
know I don’t need to see him anymore.
Because
I don’t. I’m better now.
I
wipe my hands on my jeans, trying to get rid of the excess moisture. It must be
hot in here. I have no reason to sweat. No reason at all.
“I
figured as much.” He crosses one leg over his knee, looking casual as he leans
back against the upholstered leather chair, but there’s still that expectant
look in his eyes. Despite the glare on the doctor’s glasses, I can see the
man’s impatience. “How else have you been?”
This
shrink is never one to waste time. He’s not afraid to pressure me to get to the
point, which is one reason I have always liked him.
I
sip from my water bottle, clear my throat, and then answer. “I haven’t had a
bad dream in months.”
After
the roadside bomb had flipped our truck and killed my best friend in
Afghanistan, I couldn’t escape the nightmares that plagued me. Although the
occurrence of those dreams slowed after I met Christina, they completely
stopped three months ago, after my best friend’s wife, Letty, contacted me on
Facebook. She’d written me a long letter apologizing for blaming me for James’s
death. She’d even invited me to San Antonio for her youngest son’s birthday
party. It seems I just needed Letty’s forgiveness for the nightmares to stop.
“That’s
great news.” The doctor smiles wider this time.
I
can tell this smile is genuine, and I release a pent-up breath of air.
Then
the doctor hits me with the next question. “Are you adjusting to life as a
civilian?”
“Oh,
yeah.” I nod before sticking one clammy hand in my pants pocket. The little
velvet pouch is still there, and though it takes up no more room than a
wadded-up tissue, it feels heavy. The weight of it presses into my thigh.
What’s worse is, the strain is somehow tethered to an invisible noose that is
wrapped around my neck. Each day the pouch feels heavier, and the noose feels
tighter, so tight I feel I may suffocate from the pressure. “I’m learning how
to take over my uncle’s businesses.” I say the words I rehearsed on the drive
over. “Working out and….” I pause and finger the pouch again. “I met a girl.”
I
shift in my seat, trying to suppress my arousal as I envision last night in
bed, when Christina’s long auburn hair had been fanned around my thighs. I
can’t forget the expression in her emerald eyes when she looked up at me,
flashing that seductive smile right before she took me in her mouth.
“You
sound hesitant to talk about her. Are you having second thoughts?”
“No,
never.” I vehemently shake my head before I force myself to stop.
Doctor
Barnes has that look in his eyes again. Damn, he’s too smart for his own good.
I remind myself I need to find a new shrink, maybe one a little less observant.
Maybe one who nods and agrees with everything I say.
I
avert my gaze, but I can’t escape the feeling Doctor Barnes can see through me,
straight into my soul. But I came here to talk, didn’t I? No. I came here to
tell the doctor I no longer need him, as soon as I get help with this one
little problem.
I
look the doctor in the eyes, take a shaky breath, and slowly exhale, even
though the invisible noose is making it harder to breathe. “Ever since we moved
in together, my family has been pressuring us to get married.”
He
gives me a pointed look. “How do you feel about marriage?”
I
answer without hesitation. “I love her. I’ll do anything to marry her. I even
had a ring made, but I don’t think I have the nerve to pop the question.”
I
shouldn’t have asked Tia for my grandmother’s ring. That was a bad idea. A very
bad idea. We’ve only been together six months, and I’ll scare her off. Then I
remember Tia wagging a finger in my face and clucking her tongue, telling me
the church frowns on sex out of wedlock.
I
don’t want to offend God, but I don’t want to lose Christina, either. Her
parents were unloving and abusive. How can she possibly be ready for marriage
and family after what she’s been through?
Slowly,
I pull the velvet pouch out of my pocket, loosen the drawstring, and dump the
ring in my palm. I hold the shining silver band beneath the soft glow of the
overhead lights.
“The
emeralds came from my grandmother’s wedding band,” I say to the doctor as I
press the ring between the tips of my fingers. “They’re the same color as
Christina’s eyes.”
“You
said you don’t have the nerve to ask her,” he asks in an annoyingly impartial
monotone. “Why?”
“It’s
just….” I swallow against the tightening knot around my throat as I place the
ring back in the pouch. “I’m afraid she won’t say yes.”
* * *
I
make my way through the crowd toward Andrés, ignoring the “Hey, baby” from some
drunk behind me. Andrés is at a table with a bunch of guys I’ve never met
before. He’s probably never met them before, either, but Andrés has this
magnetic personality, and he can make friends with just about anyone.
He’s
sitting on the edge of his seat, waiting for the quarterback to throw the ball.
He still hasn’t spotted me, so I hang back for a second. He’s got this look on
his face as if all of life’s happiness hinges on this one moment.
I
don’t bother looking at the television. Watching Andrés is far more enjoyable.
He jumps out of his seat, pumping his fist in the air and hollering. He’s
taller than most of the other men, and far more attractive. Even in late fall,
he’s got beautifully tanned skin. He let his military cut grow out a little,
and he’s got just the right amount of wave to his thick hair.
He’s
kept his physique in prime shape, too. He’s been out of the army for almost
eight months, but Andrés takes his PT seriously, jogging every morning before
work and lifting weights three times a week. Sometimes, he even talks me into
going jogging with him, which is totally insane because the sun isn’t even up
yet, and I’m already exhausted from school, work and sex, lots and lots of sex.
I
smile as he high-fives the other guys before falling back into his chair. He
finally sees me as he leans over and grabs a nacho off the tray. He pops the
chip in his mouth and waves me over. There are no empty chairs, which suits me
just fine. I take a seat on Andrés’s thigh and plant a big kiss on his lips. He
tastes like salsa and corn chips. I reach across his broad chest and steal his
beer.
“Hey,”
he says to me as he steals it back before I can take a sip. “Not until you eat
something, mija.” He sets down the glass and pushes a styrofoam box toward me.
“I ordered it to go. I didn’t think you’d come inside.” He’s got this
apologetic look in his big, brown eyes, as if he’s sorry my dinner is in a box.
Jackson
wouldn’t have thought to order me a meal at all. I frown as I pull away and
open my box. Why would I even be thinking about Jackson? We’ve been broken up
for six months.
I
lick my lips when I see I’ve got a big Cobb salad with chopped egg, chunks of
bleu cheese, bacon pieces, grilled chicken, and two sides of balsamic
vinaigrette. Oh, yum! Damn, the boy is
thoughtful. Not only does he remember my favorite salad, he also remembers I
love extra dressing. Jackson wouldn’t have— Shit! Enough about Jackson.
I
shake the image of my former fiancé’s pouty face out of my mind as I dig into
my food.
Andrés
kneads the tension from my shoulders as I eat. I shift in his lap a few times
and smile to myself as I feel his growing bulge pressing against my ass.
Andrés
grabs hold of my hips and growls a warning in my ear. “Stop, before I take you
in the bathroom.”
I
angle my head toward him and wink. “You don’t have the balls.”
He
lifts a challenging eyebrow and licks his full, sensual lips. “Don’t dare me,
mija. I’ll bend you over the sink.”
My jaw drops, and as I look into his smoky
gaze, I realize he’s not joking. Oh-mi-god! Sex in a crowded bar bathroom. That
one isn’t on my bucket list, but it sure as hell is on my bucket list now. I
reach between our bodies and stroke down the length of his erection, causing
him to growl and grab my wrist.
I
giggle and lick my lips as he pulls my hand to his mouth and plants a tender
kiss on my palm. For a moment, I forget we’re in a crowded bar. The sound of
cheering and swearing is drowned out by my buzzing hormones. After the shit I
went through today, I could so go for an orgasm right now. Or two. Or three.
I’m so damn tempted to pull him from this chair and drag him to the bathroom
myself.
Book #1
He told me to say when, but I can’t. Not with Andrés. It’s so hard to say anything when he’s trailing feather soft kisses down my neck, or when his touch sends hot currents of lust rippling across my skin.
Then there’s the way he smiles and offers soft words of encouragement when I’m creating art, almost like he believes I have talent.
He’s not like any guy I’ve ever met. Not like my ex-fiancée. Not like my father. He’s got me thinking that maybe we can have something more. More than just lust, degradation, and abuse.
And now I’m scared, because that means I’ll have to trust him with more than just my body, but with my heart, too.
Christina Duval
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About the author:
A former high school English teacher, I now work from home as a novelist and a part-time graphic designer. I love dragons, handsome heroes, and chocolate. I’m willing to share my dragons and heroes. Keep your hands off my chocolate!
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