Angelo
I will.
For the first time in weeks, Angelo was excited. He was going home! He’d tried to be a little more receptive to the people here, but inside it was killing him to smile, to pretend he was happy, that nothing was wrong.
As a car approached the cabin, he glanced up to see Isabella. Returning from town with Reese…the cause of all his troubles in the first place.
Angelo scowled. He didn’t like the woman, but he understood her loyalty to her brother. Angelo loved his sister more than anything…but he wasn’t a kid anymore. She had to see that. Had to know he was ready to be his own man. She didn’t approve of the cartel, but she’d never actually given them a chance. Couldn’t understand how much better their lives would have been if he’d started working for the cartel years ago. They would’ve had money. A lot of it. They could’ve moved to a bigger house, she could’ve quit her job working for foreigners and lived an easy life.
But instead, they’d been going without. Scrimping and saving and they still never had enough.
He didn’t want to leave her behind…but once he was back home and making good money, he’d reach out to Isabella. Tell her how much he missed her. If given the chance, he knew he could care for his sister better than the American. He’d have more money than Woody could ever dream of making. Maybe he could convince her to return to Colombia.
Isabella had taken care of him when their parents died, going without for years so that Angelo could have more. He wanted to return that loyalty, be the provider for once, but his sister was so stubborn! She wouldn’t listen to him.
Angelo sighed, some of his excitement dimming. He knew it wouldn’t be as easy as asking Isabella to come home. But he also knew that one day, she’d be sorry for her choices. When the American got tired of her and dumped her, when she was alone and broke and had no one, she’d reach out to him. And Angelo would happily welcome her back. He’d prove to her that all her ideas about the cartel were wrong. That they were savvy businessmen who were providing a product that was very much in demand.
Why was it wrong to make money? It wasn’t. If the cartel didn’t distribute the drugs, someone else would. And someone else would make all the money that Angelo wanted his share of, desperately.
It was only a matter of time before he was back where he belonged. Where he could be someone. But first, he had to find a place in Los Alamos that transferred money. He could make some calls, but it wouldn’t be easy since he’d have to find a place that spoke Spanish. Then he needed to find a ride into town to retrieve the cash. He couldn’t drive himself, and he couldn’t ask his sister or Woody. They’d ask too many questions.
He’d figure it out. His friend Pablo was going out on a limb to bring him home, and Angelo wouldn’t let him down. He’d do whatever he had to, including smiling and laughing to convince everyone that he wasn’t planning on leaving here as soon as possible to go back to South America and the cartel.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Spike was having a hard time controlling himself. But even though he might be desperate for Reese, he wasn’t going to act like a neanderthal. When she’d arrived home from her shopping trip, she seemed…shy. As much as Spike wanted to drag her to his room and finally, finally, join her in his bed, he forced himself to greet her with a long, slow kiss, then turned his attention back to the dinner he’d begun cooking.
The cabin smelled delicious, like bacon. The meal he’d made could in no way be called healthy, even though it included baked chicken. The heavy cream, bacon, and cream of mushroom soup made sure of that.
It was obviously the right call not to jump her bones the second she walked in the door, because Spike could see her relaxing as the evening went on. Besides, he wanted to talk to her about her future first. Specifically, finding a job in Los Alamos. And since Woody would be emailing her a link to the job he’d found at the laboratory in the morning, he wanted to be very clear where he stood before she received it.
They sat down to eat, and Reese leaned in and put her nose over the steam rising from her plate, inhaling deeply. “This smells so good,” she told him with a smile.
“It totally does,” he agreed as he picked up his spoon. He’d cut the chicken into bite-size pieces, and it had ended up more like a creamy soup than chicken with sauce over it, but he didn’t mind. He took a taste, and Reese did the same thing.
She closed her eyes as she chewed, moaning deep in her throat.
And just like that, Spike’s cock hardened. Reese had no idea how sexy she was. It was taking every ounce of his discipline not to leap across the table and say to hell with the food.
“I assume it’s good?” he asked with a grin.
“Good? Gus, this is amazing.”
Spike didn’t know what it was about her insistence on calling him “Gus” that affected him so much. Maybe it was because it separated him from his military persona. It wasn’t that he wasn’t proud of what he’d done, but there were times when all the shit in his head was just too overwhelming. The use of his name reminded him that he was someone before the military, and he was still that person after. Or at least, he could be.
And he liked that Reese, herself, was mostly separate from that part of his life.
They made small talk as they ate, but there was an undercurrent of sexual tension. Reese kept sneaking looks at him under her lashes, and when she licked her lips, it was all Spike could do to stay in his seat.
When he was finished with his meal, Spike pushed his plate aside and rested his elbows on the table and leaned in, keeping his gaze fixed on Reese. He hadn’t thought much about his small kitchen table. It was round, and pretty much only big enough for two people. He was across from Reese, but they were as close as if they were sitting side-by-side at the huge table up at the lodge.
She took the last bite of her meal, then looked over at him. Spike reached out a hand and she took it without hesitation.
“I was talking to Woody today,” he started…then lost his train of thought as Reese ran her thumb over the top of his hand. Her fingers were soft and warm, and he had a sudden vision of his cock in her fist as she caressed him.
“Yeah?” she asked with a raised brow.
Spike cleared his throat and forced himself to concentrate. The faster he got through this conversation, the faster he could get Reese to his bed. “We were talking about him going back to Kansas City after the wedding.”
“Yeah, he’s mostly healed up, and since we haven’t heard anything from your friend Tex about the cartel still looking for him, he thinks it’s safe to go home. I know he wants to get Isabella settled, and see about finding Angelo a job to keep him busy. It’s obvious he’s still struggling hard to acclimate, but he seems to be making more of an effort lately.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed that too,” Spike said. He didn’t completely trust the kid, but he was trying harder to fit in. It made Spike soften toward him a little bit.
Then he took a deep breath and stopped beating around the bush.
“I want you to stay,” he blurted, continuing before she could say a word. “I know you’ve lived in Kansas City for a long time, but I don’t want you to go. I’ve gotten used to you being here, and I already can’t imagine waking up without you. Woody looked into jobs at the Los Alamos National Laboratory and he thinks there are a few you’d love. He’s going to send you a link tomorrow, but I didn’t want you to get it and wonder where I stood about you staying. I’m all for it. One hundred percent. I’d move to Missouri to be with you, but I’m not sure how that would work with ownership here at The Refuge.”