I flush quickly and step to the sink to put cool water on my face and neck, and I remember being at the hospital, talking to the doctor. Then I remember the next morning with Mateo. I’d chalked it up to stress, but closing my eyes, I filter through the dates…
I’ve got to know for sure before I say anything, but my chest trembles. My stomach tightens, and my insides squeeze. I’m excited and I’m scared, and I can’t breathe. And I’m terrified…
If this is true, I have no idea what happens next.
21
Deacon
The sky spreads out in front of us brilliant blue and gold. The sun dips toward the horizon, and it’s like fire rolling beneath the clouds. Angel is behind me on the bike, slim arms tight around my waist, and we’re flying along the freeway headed up to Mount Cristo Rey.
Placing one hand on top of hers, I give it a squeeze as satisfaction spreads across my stomach. We’ve spent the last twenty-four hours growing closer than we’ve ever been, talking about everything, loving each other whenever we want. It’s like a little honeymoon…
It’s amazing.
And I’ve decided.
Nothing’s stopping us anymore.
Wind pushes against my face, and we rise higher, following the trail up the mountain. As the sun drops lower, we can see the lights of Juarez flickering on to the south. It’s crazy how close the two places are.
Reaching the top of the small mountain, I ease off on the gas and we slow. No one else is here, and I park the bike, removing my helmet and reaching for hers. Our eyes meet, and we don’t speak. We’re in this magical place at this time of day when it feels like anything can happen.
The air is a little cooler at this altitude, and I pull her against my side, wrapping my arm over her shoulders as the breeze swirls around us. Her skirt swirls around her beautiful legs, and I think about those beautiful legs being mine, her beautiful heart belonging to me, her talented mind and caring soul.
We climb the wooden staircase leading up to the enormous cross with the massive statue of Jesus standing in front of it. It’s not a crucifixion, as the Christ’s hands are facing down, palms spread over the cities as if in blessing or prayer.
I’ll take both.
Standing on the crown-shaped platform at the base of the monument, we gaze upwards, absorbing the solemnity of the moment as the sky turns red above us. The air is crisp and dry. Dipping my head, I press my nose to the top of Angel’s head and inhale.
Exhaling slowly, it’s time.
“I thought it would be easy.” My voice is quiet. “I knew people like Winnie would be a problem, but I could handle her. Now we’re in a dark place.” She tenses, and I tighten my embrace. “I wanted to do this differently, but now I don’t want to wait.”
Turning to her, I hold her left hand as she looks up at me. “Nothing will change my love for you, Angelica Maria del Carmen.” Lowering to one knee, I take the ring I’ve held since April out of my inside pocket.
“Deacon…” She inhales sharply, pressing her hand to her lips as her eyes heat.
“I want you to be my wife.” Looking at her slim hand so delicate in mine, I place the ring on her third finger. “Will you?”
She drops to her knees, her pretty eyes shimmering as she nods quickly. Emotion tightens my stomach. She blinks and two tears fall right before she dives into my embrace, wrapping her arms around my neck.
Clearing the thickness in my throat, I look up at the sky around us, the hands spread over us in blessing. “Don’t cry, beautiful. I’m going to make you so happy.”
She smiles through tears, her hands on my shoulders. “You already have.”
Rocking back on my heels, I pull her to my chest so I can seal our lips together, tongues entwining. She climbs into my lap, pressing her body to mine as our kiss deepens, emotions surge between us.
My mouth moves down to her sternum, and I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her tight against me, listening to her heart beating like wings in her chest. My beautiful angel.
“I saw a movie once…” Her voice is soft, thoughtful at my ear. “This couple couldn’t be married by a minister, in front of their families, because of a war… so they said the words three times, and they were married.”
“Look at me.” I lift my head, and I’m determined, forceful. “I’m going to marry you in front of God and everybody.”
A smile creases her face, and she nods, blinking as another tear falls. “I want that too… But I want you to know, I’ll marry you right here, even if it’s only the two of us promising at Jesus’s feet on this mountain in the desert.”
Love burns in my chest, and I look up at the monument, at the sky. I like her idea. It’s sacred and perfect.
Rising to stand, I help her to her feet. “Three times?”
“Let’s say it together.”
Holding both her hands in mine, I look directly in her eyes and repeat the words as she says them.
On the third time, I’m sure it’s in my mind, but the air seems to still. A final ray of sunlight cuts through the red-orange clouds, and the force of our promise surrounds us, binding us together.
We’re changed.
Leaning down, I kiss her again gently. It’s a holy kiss, a kiss that defies the hatred and prejudices of our families. A breath apart, our noses touch. We smile and possessive warmth surrounds my heart. We’ve created something unbreakable.
Returning to the house, her body is pressed against my back like a hot promise of what’s to come. Her hands are on my waist, but I feel her fingers fumble with the edge of my shirt, lifting it and tracing the lines across my stomach. Tingles move below my belt, and I lean harder on the throttle.
The wind washes around us, the sky stretches purple and gold as we cover the miles, racing down the mountain road to the city below. Consummation is hot in my blood when we finally arrive at the house.
Pulling up the long driveway, I park at the edge of the porch. We’re off the bike, whipping off the helmets and leaving them on the steps as we stumble up them, falling into each other’s arms through the doorway.
Our lips fumble for each other’s, our hands are everywhere. Hers pull up my shirt. I’m unbuttoning the front of her cotton dress. I lift her, and she holds my neck, fingers threading the back of my hair as we seek out skin, cheeks, mouths.
I want to be gentle, but my jeans catch my ankles, and I stumble, catching us as we fall on the stairs leading to the second floor.
I’m sitting with her on top of me, and I groan. “That’s going to leave a mark.”
We both laugh, diving into each other again. I’m too hungry to care.
My hands are under her skirt, tearing her thong away. She gasps, clutching my shoulders and pushing me back, dipping her head to pull my dick in her mouth.
“Ohh, fuck.” My head drops back with a groan.
She’s licking and sucking, and my fingers slide into her hair. My hips rise involuntarily. It feels too good. My eyes squeeze shut as pleasure snakes up my legs. Her head bobs faster, pulling me deeper. My cock hits the back of her throat, and I groan low, shakily. I’m close…
But I don’t want to come this way. I want to be inside her, holding her.