Some nights, p.9
Some Nights, page 9
I’m going to follow my sister’s advice and see where it takes us.
Jax
“What the hell is wrong with you tonight?” Juan asks, dropping into one of the stools.
He’s on break, so I serve him a glass of cranberry juice and place it in front of him.
“Apparently, my nightly ritual is now being pissed off at someone every night.”
He raises both eyebrows and smiles. “Six-twenty strikes again?”
My hand freezes on the bar top. “Juan—”
He raises a hand. “You have no worries with me, man. You saved my ass the other day when the manager tried to fire me. I only mentioned it because twice the two of you have come in pissed off after each other. I was at the desk when she said she ordered packages and you showed up looking like you could chew on glass. Like you’re looking right now. What’d she do to make you mad?”
Relief shoots through me. I meant it when I told her if I lost the job, I wouldn’t dwell. Doesn’t mean I want to get fired. “I’m not mad at her. Not anymore. It’s my own stupid mouth and temper that pisses me off now.”
“What’d you said to her?”
I hesitate. Juan and I are cool but we’re not exactly friends. I can’t talk to Matt, though, because he’s still trying to shove Kelsey down my throat. He texted twice, no doubt at his girlfriend’s insistence. They don’t get the hint.
“We went out and she wanted to pay for dinner. Said there’s no reason to waste my money when she can pay it with her business account.”
Juan flips his palms open. “And?”
“I told her it’s none of her business how I spend my money.” It’s an abbreviated version but I’m not getting too deep. I’m not about to talk about my financial woes, that she had a mooching ex, or that she happened to hit a sore spot with her offer.
Juan scrunches up his face. “The lady wanted to pay for dinner and you got nasty with her? You could have just said, ‘thank you but I got it.’”
Yeah, I came to that conclusion earlier. “I have my pride. I don’t need a woman paying for my meals.”
“Are you going to stop seeing her?”
“No.” It comes out so forceful but it doesn’t surprise me. I already know I’m not done with whatever is happening with us.
“Okay, how’s that going to work? What if she wants to treat you to something? I mean, don’t get me wrong, my daddy always taught me the man pays, but my wife sometimes wants to treat me.”
“You’re married to her.”
“She took me out sometimes when we were dating too. I saw in your lady’s reservation that she’s from New York. People over there have weird ideas. Cut her some slack and apologize. Tell her we’re real men down here.”
Yeah, that would go over well. “She is proud of her state.”
“Poor thing. She doesn’t know any better. You need to show her, man.” He shakes his head all the way back to the hotel reception area.
I chuckle and pull out my phone. I’ll apologize in person but I need to test the waters first. Hey, are you in your room?
She replies ten minutes later. No, I’m out and about.
That tells me nothing. Is she pissed off or not? I get out in an hour…
It takes her another ten minutes to reply again. Oh. Meet me at the gelato spot in Little Italy.
I tried to wait ten minutes to reply but I don’t make it to five. If I leave, it will be hard for me to come back inside the hotel.
This time she replies in less than a minute. I know.
And obviously doesn’t care. Yup. She’s super pissed.
I finish my shift and head to meet her. I park a block away from the place and walk there quickly.
She’s sitting by the window, concentrating on whatever regional managers for multinational companies do on her computer, I’m able to walk across before she notices me. She lifts her head and we lock eyes just as I head to the door. Her shoulders square back as if she’s getting ready for a fight.
I sigh.
The smell of caramel and chocolate are in the air and engulf me when I walk in.
“Hi.” She doesn’t smile but she doesn’t look mad.
“Hi.”
I take the chair across from her.
She closes her computer, places it inside her purse, and puts the purse on the floor next to her.
“Can I get you anything?” The waitress appears out of nowhere with a big smile and a face that can’t be old enough to hold a working permit.
Saona leans forward and stares at me. “I’ll have the sea salt caramel. Can I buy you an ice cream without getting my head chewed off?”
Oh God. She’s not going to make this easy. I look at the waitress. “Can I get half chocolate, half caramel?”
She smiles. “Sure.”
As the waitress walks away, Saona’s face breaks into a smile. “It’s so cute. I don’t know who was blushing harder, you or her.”
“Who, the waitress?”
She rolls her eyes. “She was checking you out.”
“I didn’t notice.”
She leans on her elbows. “Good answer.”
God, I want to kiss that mouth.
“Saona, I—”
The little smile slides from her face. “I’m sorry. It was my bad. I keep messing up this weekend. I had no right to say that. You were being a gentleman and I should’ve just said thanks—”
I wrap my hand around her forearm. “I handled that wrong. I shouldn’t have been so rude. I should’ve just said I was paying, end of discussion.”
“I didn’t know we were on a date.”
“What? We went out to eat in public, to a sitting down restaurant, and I was wearing slacks.”
She shrugs. “I thought those were your work clothes.”
“It was casual Friday.”
“Oh.”
“Would you have said no if I made that clearer?”
She purses her lips. “I would have said yes and spent the day choosing an outfit and brushing up on my dating etiquette. I guess I can blame my behavior on rustiness.”
I smile. This woman knows how to shoot down my defenses. “For the record, you always look hot. What do I blame my behavior on?”
“Assholery?” She stretches her arms above her head, bringing her breasts higher. She’s wearing jeans and a fitted T-shirt. I’ve never seen her this casual.
“Sure, you insult me and then push your boobs in my face. Good move.”
She winks at me. It’s so fucking cute and sexy.
“So, here’s how this is going to go. We’re going to have a do over. I’m going to buy you gelato and you’re going to take me somewhere I’ve been wanting to go. Then we’re going to make out like crazy and I’m going to put out at the end of the night.”
I clear my throat. “You’re going to pay for the gelato and put out too?”
She nods, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth and releasing it slow. “Consider it your lucky night.
I do. “And where am I supposed to be taking you?”
She signals for me to come forward and when I lean all the way, she does the same and whispers, “To your house.”
I’m taken aback. “Oh.”
She leans away abruptly. “Unless it’s too personal—”
I grasp her shoulders in my hand and bring her back. “No. I just don’t have much furniture and the house needs so much work still.”
She shakes her head. “Stop. I’ve already seen the pics and I like the house a lot. But I’m serious. If it’s too soon and too personal—”
I press my lips to hers. “I want you to see it.”
She smiles. “Cool.”
But as we turn onto my block, an hour later, I’m questioning my decision. Her apartment is furnished so nicely. “I don’t have a couch.”
“We’ll sit on the floor.”
I nod but the pressure doesn’t ease. “I don’t have a table either.”
“Oh, man. No dining table? That’s a deal breaker. I guess we can eat our meals sitting on your mattress on the floor.”
I laugh. “I have a bed, smart ass.”
She laughs too but as I park the car in my driveway and turn to open the door, she stops me with her hand on my arm.
Her eyes are sparkling in the dark. “You can trust me to bring me into your house. I’m not here to judge. I want to see where you live and the work you’ve done with your hands.”
Something tightens inside of me and I’m so wound up I just nod and rush around to open the door.
“Wow.” Her gaze is on the exterior of the house. “What year is she again?”
I chuckle. “1925.”
“She’s a grand dame. Let’s go inside.” Her excitement is contagious.
I open the door for her and she walks in and gasps. “I told you the floors would be amazing.” She smacks my arm hard and loud.
She’s saying a bunch of things but I’m caught up in her excitement. In the fast way she kicks off her shoes by the door, taking in the mantle and the crown molding. She’s babbling about the big windows and how beautiful the morning light must be. Then she’s off to the dining room, complimenting my work on the floor and the paint. I can’t help but follow without getting a word in but not needing to. She stands in front of the doors to the patio and turns to me with a smile and it hits me then.
I’m in trouble with this girl.
12
Saona
* * *
I’m half dead and Jax won’t stop talking. First, he sent me straight into an orgasm coma. No, I’m not smiling internally at the memory. Then he gets a phone call at this ungodly hour and is swearing to someone that he will be there as soon as possible. Now he feels the need to explain it to me and all I want to do is knock out again.
“That was the warehouse guy on the phone. He finds me supplies for the house and we have an agreement that he shows the stuff to me first. He got kitchen cabinets today and I badly need to get a good deal on those. I’m hoping to persuade him to sell me the ones I want for a good price. He’s ornery and haggling is not really my suit—”
Adrenaline shoots up my body and my eyes fly open. “Haggling?”
I throw the sheets off me.
“Yeah…” His gaze is on my breasts but he shakes his head and turns around. “I’m on a budget and I need the best deal I can get.”
I jump off, naked like the day I was born, and go around the bed where he’s tying up his sneakers. “I wanna come.”
His gaze, at eye level with my bare kitten, as he called it last night, slow trails up my body until it settles hotly on my eyes. “I think you did sweetheart, like four times.”
I take a step closer. “I meant go with you but I’ll take it both ways if you’re offering.”
His smile is sinful. “I was so wrong about you. You’re really are a bad girl.”
His hands shoot around me and grab onto my ass. He pulls me closer, pressing slow kisses and slow licks against my mons. This is the hottest thing in my whole life. And I moan like it too.
“I’ll owe you this one. I have to be there in twenty minutes.”
I lock away the flames burning inside my skin for the moment and rush to get dressed. I reach for a pair of panties from my bag, throw them on with a bra, my jeans, and, since I can’t find where he threw my shirt last night, I grab one of his and knot it in the back. All that while pretending to ignore his blatant staring. I finger comb my hair into a ponytail, brush my teeth, and throw on some eyeliner. We’re in the car two minutes later.
“I’ve never seen a woman get ready that fast.” He’s in awe and I mentally fist pump while applying my mascara. I just impressed him out of the bed.
“You said haggle and shopping.”
“Shopping for cabinets,” he corrects me and pulls into a Country Farms drive-through.
“No Starbucks?” I’m not a snob but when there’s no Café Bustelo, Starbucks is my damage of choice.
“You’re not in New York, Princess Saona. There’s not one of those overpriced stores on every corner on my side of town.”
I roll my eyes at him.
“This is not my favorite either but we can’t waste any time,” he adds.
That’s how we end up sharing one cup as he speeds toward Dan’s Warehouse.
“You have a shopping addiction. You were half dead but woke up to come with me. Just because I said shopping?”
I pass him the coffee. “No, because you said haggling. It’s a family thing. Sierra and I used to do it with our dad. When he had to buy stuff, we would pack up on his old Ford station wagon and go to thrift stores or flea markets. We would discuss a budget and how far above it we could go.”
“Sounds like fun. And I would have never guessed you have seen the inside of a thrift shop. I picked you up at Down Home Comfort yesterday. It’s expensive just to look at stuff in there.”
I remember my purchases from yesterday. “First of all, we were once scraping by, though my mother would never admit it. Second, my dad always preached the value of a good bargain. Third, the stuff I bought at that bougie store was actually a house-warming gift for you.”
He does a double take. “What? Why would you buy me frou-frou stuff from there?”
I keep talking over him.
“Fourth of all, you don’t even know what I bought you or if it’s frou-frou. Fifth of all, I believe the words you’re looking for are thank and you.”
He laughs. “Thank you.”
Dan’s warehouse is a dump. The building is gray and dirty and the sign is worn out and crooked. There are empty forty-ounce beer bottles everywhere and I have to sidestep glass when I get out of the car.
“How many people have been found murdered here?”
Jax says nothing but pulls me tight against his side and presses a loud kiss to my temple, setting off butterflies in my tummy.
Girl, you need to stop.
We go through the door and there are all sorts of things everywhere. It’s like an indoor junkyard. I’m so excited. Papi, my dad, used to say places like these are where you find treasures.
I stop Jax and wrap my arms around his neck. By the rounding of his eyes and drifting of his mouth, he thinks I’m about to kiss him.
“What is our budget here?” I whisper.
He stammers. “Uhhh.”
I shake my head. “I don’t care how low or how high. I just need to know so I can help you get there. So, what’s the limit?”
“You’re serious?” He frowns.
I roll my eyes at him. “In my family, we don’t joke about haggling.”
He presses me against him and gives me a quick peck. “This side of you makes me hot. Let’s go under one thousand.”
“I thought my ass made you hot and oh my God, what are you, Daddy Warbucks? Let’s shoot for six to seven hundred.”
“Saona, we’re talking kitchen cabinets here.”
I scoff. “I know but these are not new. I wish my sister were here. I think you’re going to fold like a cheap suit. Follow my lead when it comes to the money. If you want to argue with me, say ‘sidebar.’ Now, show me the ones you want but pretend you like the cheaper ones. I’ll work my magic from there.”
He nods and by God, I’m determined to get him those cabinets now that my reputation is going to be on the line.
And that’s how the fun starts. He signals the ones he wants and goes to talk to Dan, a big grizzly of a man who looks like he should be making moonshine in the woods. Dan thinks he’s getting over one thousand for these things. He’s trying to convince Jax on the cheaper option.
“Jax, these are the ones I want.”
“Those are—"
I sigh like a teenager at an adult gathering. “I couldn’t have the couch I wanted because it was too expensive too. Can I please at least get cabinets in my kitchen that I’ll like?” I air quote everything and channel my sister’s tone.
“But, honey…”
“Do. Not. Honey. Me.” I move away and cross my arms.
“Jesus. She’s as bad as my wife. Jax, you were fixing your house for a woman? You never mentioned you had a girlfriend.” Poor Dan tried to whisper but I heard it all.
And just like that, the door opens and I thank the Divine Niño Jesus.
I stomp my way back to them. “Wait a minute. What did you say?” I turn to Jax and shove a finger in his chest. “You come in here and pretend to be single? He’s what? Finding you pieces for the house and pieces of ass too? Is that why you didn’t want me to come with you this morning?”
“No, of course not. Dude.” Jax shoots the most exasperated look to Dan, who starts stammering and trying to reassure me.
And just like that, negotiations open. Because as Jax explains to me in the car, breaking Bro Code is the worst sin a man can commit against another. I just laugh because eight hundred dollars later, he has his cabinets, a chandelier, a vanity for the upstairs bathroom and even some plants.
13
Jax
* * *
My muscles are screaming from working on the kitchen. We are sitting on the living room floor on cushions watching the game. I’m in my sweatpants and Saona’s sitting between my legs in a pair of my boxer briefs and one of my old T-shirts. It’s been like our usual days when I talked to her on Facetime while I’m working on the house. Except, she’s here passing me stuff or bringing me water or sitting on the windowsill, telling me what to do.
And making me uncomfortable. Not bad uncomfortable but weird. It’s so normal, it should freak me out. It doesn’t and that’s bothering me too.
I can’t put my finger on whatever it is but since this morning when we left the warehouse, something’s different. I keep asking myself what it is but I end up getting caught up in her all over again.
“So, your dad was a doctor but he drove a yellow cab and shopped in thrift stores?” I need to make conversation to shut off the churning in my head.
Saona laughs and throws more popcorn chicken into her mouth. She picks another piece and brings it up to my lips without turning around.
