Rock Chick Regret (Rock Chick #7)(119)

I caught them but kept looking at him.

“S’mores,” was all he said.

My breathing went funny (so maybe I was slow, he bought the stuff with me at his side in the grocery store but how was I to know what he had planned, I just thought he was a man who liked marshmallows, chocolate bars and graham crackers in the house, I’d, personally, never had all three in my house at once but each item individually, sure!).

I decided not to make a big deal of it like burst into tears, throw myself in his arms and declare my everlasting love for him.

Instead, I asked, “Did you ever go to camp?”

He grinned and it was a new grin, an effective new grin because it was so wicked, it made my belly melt. “If you count three months in juvie when I was fourteen then, yeah. But we didn’t have s’mores.”

My mouth dropped open.

Then I asked, “You, Agent Hector Chavez, did a stint in juvie?”

He was straightening out the hanger and still grinning. “Yeah.”

It was too much, I couldn’t help it.

I burst out laughing.

My eyes were closed so I didn’t see him move until his arm was wrapped around my neck, I was yanked against his body so hard, I slammed into him and he kissed me, hot, wet, open-mouthed and long enough for me to melt into him (and then some).

Then his mouth broke from mine, he touched his forehead to mine for a nanosecond before he moved away and I felt my breath catch at the sweetness of it.

“Like it when you laugh, mamita,” he said quietly and I stared at him then I swallowed.

He didn’t wait for a response, maybe didn’t need one. I didn’t know and I didn’t ask. Instead, he handed me the hanger and took the marshmallows from me, opening the bag with his teeth.

“What’d you do?” I asked.

“Probably better to ask what I didn’t do.”

I let out another small laugh as he made me hold my hanger up to his hand and he fed some big, fat marshmallows on it.

“Okay, what didn’t you do?”

He gave me one of his glamorous smiles. “I never killed anyone.”

My body started shaking with laughter.

Through my laughter, I said, “So I take it you’re one of the ones who f**ked around enough to cause your parents problems.”

He guided my hanger over the grill and dumped the bag of marshmallows on the side shelf but kept his arm wrapped around my neck, his eyes trained on my marshmallows.

“Carlos, Rosa and Elena were the good kids, Eddie, Gloria and me… not so good.”

I felt this somewhere deep and the laughter left my body.

Hector’s arm gave my neck a squeeze. I knew he wanted my attention so I looked up at him.

He was watching me closely.

“Now what’s in your head?” he asked softly.

“She loves you all the same. The good and the not so good,” I whispered, referring to Blanca.

“Always has,” he replied.

Immediately I replied, “You’re very lucky.”

At my words, he curled me so my front was against his and his face dipped to mine.

I saw that look in his eyes, the warm, intense, eyes-soft, face-hard, signifying-possession look but something else was there. Not pity but maybe understanding that he had something beautiful that I had not. I knew instinctively he didn’t feel sorry for me but he felt something.

“I know,” he murmured and there was a great deal of feeling in his soft words.

Perhaps sensing I’d had enough, perhaps wanting a s’more, he showed me how to make them and we ate them. Then we made out by the grill in the now-chilly Autumn air, our mouths tasting of s’mores (Hector’s kisses were amazing but when he tasted of s’mores, they were simply heaven).

After s’mores, we walked upstairs and lay, fully-clothed (but shoeless) on his bed and watched a movie (The Big Easy, I hadn’t seen it in years and forgot how good it was).

Then, likely inspired by the movie (thank God), Hector played out a certain part but his effort lasted longer, was a bit more creative, included more than just fingers (moving on to lips and tongues) and it finished a whole lot differently.

Before he snapped out the light, he put balm and a new bandage on my tattoo.

Then he tucked my back to his front, YoYo snuggled close into the crook of my lap, Hector held me tight and I laid there, listening to him breathe (and YoYo snort) until I knew he was asleep.

Then I rewound my day from start to finish.

Then I rewound it again.

Then I did it again.

Then I felt the wetness slide silently down the sides of my eyes, soaking into the mound of pillows I shared with Hector, I put my arm on his at my waist and linked our fingers.

In his sleep, his fingers tensed until they held mine tight.

Only then did I fall asleep.

* * * * *

Hector

Hector felt Sadie’s fingers relax in his and he knew she was finally asleep.

He took in the scent of her expensive perfume, knowing and liking the fact that it was on his sheets.

His arm wrapped tighter around her waist, pulling her deeper into his body.

Her head tilted forward, his went with it, he buried his face into her hair but he felt the wetness her tears left on the pillow against his cheek.

His eyes opened in the dark.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered.