“Not a chance. Haven’t you heard? I’m a Carrera.”
Epilogue
Adriana
Houston, Texas
One Year Later
They say life comes full circle to a place of meaning just to show you how much you’ve grown. I remembered thinking everything that was wrong in my life started the moment I walked into Caliente Cantina, and it would end there.
It did.
I just didn’t know at the end I’d find a new beginning.
“Hey, princesa, this beer ain’t gonna refill itself.”
I rolled my eyes at the old man sitting on the barstool, twirling his empty beer mug on his finger with a shit-eating grin. Hanging the last cocktail glass, I stepped off the overturned crate and kicked it out of my way. “How many times have I told you, Frankie?” I said, snatching it off his finger before it shattered. “My name is Adriana.”
“Yeah, but that blond guy calls you princesa,” he slurred, waving a hand around the empty bar.
“That blond guy owns this place, including that stool you sit on every day. He can call me anything he wants.” Tilting a clean mug under the tap, I filled it to the top and slid it into his waiting hands. “You, my friend, cannot. And that…” I pointed to the glass already at his lips. “…is your last one. You’re cut off.”
Who knew filling bar bitch’s shoes would’ve been so daunting? While slinging drinks wasn’t exactly the best use of my particular skill set, as co-owner of Caliente, I had no choice. At least not until I could find someone with half a brain who could mix a decent drink and keep her mouth shut.
Not an easy task.
Frankie let out a groan. “Aw, c’mon, it’s only two o’clock in the morning. It’s early.”
I glanced at the clock and raised an eyebrow. “It’s four o’clock in the afternoon, and that’s why I’m calling you a cab.”
“Fine, man, you’ve sucked all the fun outta this place. Blond guy needs to bring back blonde bartender.”
Bending over, I reached under the bar for my phone to call him a cab. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Yeah, but you’ve got a better ass.”
My phone clattered to the floor as I felt his palm smack against my butt. Letting out a growl, I stood, ready to remind him where the hell he was, when a dangerously low, rough voice rumbled behind me.
“Franklin, you’re a good customer, so I’m going to give you two seconds to get your hand off my girlfriend’s ass before I shoot it off.”
Frankie’s eyes widened, and he flung himself back into his seat, raising both hands in surrender. “Hey, just because I admire the car doesn’t mean I want to drive it, man.”
I coughed into my fist, trying as best I could to cover my laugh as footsteps pounded across the floor, the scent of sage clouding around me.
Just sage. No longer scotch because Brody hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since my surgery.
I turned to see the man I’d lived with for over a year standing on the other side of the bar, his arms spread wide with his palms flat against the wood. Intense hazel eyes held mine without remorse, and I curved my lips in a private smile.
I couldn’t help but stare. He still took my breath away every time I saw him. The dark sin he exuded crossed all kinds of wires in my head. He was more dominant, and the ruthless control he held in just a passing glance brought me to my knees.
I nodded. “Counselor.”
Heat flared in his eyes. “Princesa.”
Crossing to the other side to meet him, I placed my palms in the same position, our fingers touching. “Be nice.”
A patch of unruly blond hair dipped over his eyebrow as he slid a hand around the back of my neck, drawing me to him. “Why?”
“Because I said so.” My stomach flipped at the command in his voice, and even though a handful of patrons were scattered around the bar, it felt as if we were the only two in the place.
“You know, this benevolent leaf you’ve turned over seems to only be geared toward men.” He nodded at Frankie, who now swayed so hard in his seat, I wasn’t entirely sure both he and the stool weren’t about to hit the floor. “I thought women were all about equality?”
“Are you saying I’m gender biased?”
“I’m saying maybe I preferred the vindictive bitch over the insatiable flirt.”
“Don’t pout, counselor,” I laughed, ignoring his penetrating stare. “I’ll show you later how I can be both.” Leaning farther across the bar, I pressed my lips to his for a tempting kiss. One meant to serve as a promise for things to come.
But Brody had other ideas.
Cradling my face, he turned tempting into torrid. There was no prelude. No gentle nip or taste. He demanded entrance, and I surrendered. Our tongues clashed with an urgency distance had denied us. It was warm, desperate, and hungry. With a final bite to my bottom lip, he pulled back with a satisfied smirk.
I let out an unsteady breath. “You’re wound up today.”
“You’re damn right,” he groaned, dropping his bag on the floor. “Between me being in New York, and you going back and forth to Chicago, we’ve hardly seen each other.”
I barely held in my own groan. He wasn’t kidding. The last three months had been hell. We’d been two proverbial ships passing in the night. Brody established an alliance with the Italians for New York port access and had been busy solidifying distribution channels while I spent my time building a rapport with Cristiano’s grandfather in Chicago.
I still held out hope I’d be able to mend that bridge between them. Cris said it was a lost cause, but I didn’t give up so easily.
“Are you feeling neglected?” I grinned, running the pad of my thumb over the scruff on his chin.
Brody grabbed my wrist and dragged it toward his mouth, his tongue tracing my pulse. “Don’t test me, princesa. I haven’t touched you in over a week. Don’t think I won’t throw you on that bar and give Frankie something to really stare at.”
“I ain’t lookin’ at nothin’,” Frankie slurred behind me.
I chuckled. Brody’s possessiveness was one of the things I loved most about him. I accused him once of smothering women, but it was just the opposite. He made me feel secure in a domineering yet endearing way.
He threw me over his shoulder but always made sure I landed on my feet.
I cupped his cheek. “This bar could be filled with men, and I wouldn’t see anyone but you. You’re all I need for the rest of my life.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that.”
I let out a squeal as Brody grabbed me under the arms and lifted me up and over the bar. My feet barely hit the floor before he spun me around and guided me to a barstool near the end of the bar.
“What the hell are you—” Before I could get the rest of my question out, two strong hands landed on my shoulders and pushed down until I gave up and sank onto the barstool.
“Do you remember the last time you sat here?”
“Tuesday?” I smirked.
He sighed heavily, visible tension in his neck. “No, princesa, this chair.” He tapped his finger against the wood under my ass then slid onto the stool next to me.