Rock Chick Regret (Rock Chick #7)(49)

All of a sudden, Jet was there. “It’s true,” she told me. “I got snockered on margaritas.”

“And Eddie threw your cell across the yard and shattered a margarita pitcher,” a newly arrived Indy shared.

“I still wish I hadn’t missed that,” Daisy muttered.

“Boy’s got good aim,” Shirleen put in. “Damn waste of margaritas though.”

“Why’d he throw your cell phone?” I asked Jet.

“Well, I kind of had some bad men after me. One called me. Eddie took the phone away from me and heard what he had to say. It made him a little…” She hesitated. “Miffed.”

“Miffed! Eddie Chavez miffed! I love it,” Ally hooted.

“He wasn’t miffed, the man was pissed!” Indy put in, a huge smile on her face.

Boy, he would have to be beyond miffed to throw a cell phone.

I looked at Hector who was talking to the guy with the bandana.

“I just bought a new cell phone. I like it,” I told them.

“Keep it away from Hector,” Ally advised then burst out laughing.

So did everyone else. I looked around at them, not sure what was funny.

I mean, I did like my cell phone. It was fancy and you could even get e-mail on it.

Tex shouldered in and handed me a big mug. “Butterscotch sandie latte. That’s butterscotch and pecan syrup. If that don’t trip your trigger, woman, nothin’ will,” he announced then he shouldered back through and returned to the espresso counter.

I turned to Daisy. “I don’t mean to be mean or anything but, isn’t he a bit… odd?”

Daisy started giggling and it sounded like Christmas bells. I couldn’t help but giggle with her.

She put her arm around me and gave me a squeeze. “Sugar, that ain’t the half of it.”

I took a sip of my latte. My eyes bugged out.

Trigger tripped.

* * * * *

Hector and I spent about an hour at Fortnum’s. Hector spent most of his time talking on his phone. I spent my time talking to the girls, Duke (the guy with the bandana who had a very deep, gravelly voice and was somewhat intense in a scary but not overly scary way) and Tex.

Tex made me go behind the counter so he could teach me how to make espresso. Since I had an espresso maker and so did Ralphie and Buddy, I showed him my stuff.

He was impressed.

Then I told Hector I had to get back to the gallery. We had an opening next week and Ralphie was having to do all the work. Even if I was pressing charges against one brother for rape and another brother for assault and attempted kidnapping which, for normal people, would mean they could probably take the day off, I couldn’t sit back and let Ralphie do all the work.

I said good-bye to the girls, Tex and Duke, Hector walked me out to his Bronco, helped me in and we took off.

* * * * *

Hector double-parked in LoDo (what they call lower downtown in Denver) right outside Art.

Like this was perfectly legal and he had all the right in the world to double-park, he casually flipped on his hazards and walked me into the store.

We walked in, Ralphie looked up and called, “Hey Double H, Buddy called. Said he’s making his famous seared tuna in citrus and flash-fried noodles tonight. You missed the brioche. You cannot miss the tuna. That would be a crime against gastronomy.”

I stared at Ralphie.

Someone please tell me that Ralphie didn’t just invite Hector over to dinner.

Someone else please tell me that Ralphie hadn’t given Hector the nickname “Double H”.

“What time?” Hector asked.

“Six-ish,” Ralphie replied.

“I’ll be there,” Hector said.

Yes, Ralphie just invited Hector over to dinner. And Hector accepted.

I took stock of my life and asked myself if it was in my control.

In a nanosecond, I came to the conclusion it wasn’t in my control.

Before I could speak to either of them to tell them I needed to get my head together, to deal with the day, to cope with my decisions, to understand my feelings, to figure out what I was going to do next, Hector’s arm came around my shoulders and he curled me into his heat.

All thoughts of mind-organization and future-planning swept out of my brain and I looked up at him.

“See you at six,” he said.

I nodded.

His other hand came up and his fingers sifted into the hair at the side of my head.

“You did good today,” he said quietly.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“I’ll call if I hear they picked up Ricky or Harvey before I come over tonight.”

“That would be nice.”

“Sadie?”

“What?”

“You with me?”

I blinked in confusion and said, “Yes.” And I was, wasn’t I? I was standing in his arms for goodness sake.

“This is Sadie?” Hector went on.

I blinked again. “Yes.”

“My Sadie?” he kept at it.

This time I blinked for a different reason.

His Sadie? Was there a Hector’s Sadie? Was I Hector’s Sadie? Did Hector think I was his Sadie?

Oh… my… God.

Before I could process what he said or get close to processing what that meant, I watched him smile then he bent his head and kissed my lips.