Sensation, p.18
Sensation, page 18
“He did what?” I screech.
“Did you ever hear from Brian again? I’m pretty sure Ramiro scared him off.”
My eyes sting thinking of Ramiro doing that for me. But why? And why keep it a secret? There’s no doubt in my mind that back then, Ramiro would have exploded without considering the possible consequences of his actions. But that was such a long time ago. “Why are you telling me this now, Caro?”
Carolina rubs her hand over her face, exasperated, because apparently there is something she is thinking that I can’t catch on to. “Because both of you are too stupid to realize Ramiro is in love with you. How do neither of you see it? He maybe won’t admit it to himself, and you’re distracted with Devyn, but everyone knows he’s in love with you.”
“Carolina—” I whine.
“Just think about it for two seconds, okay? You should have seen him, Sara. After I took you to my room and he forced Brian’s name out of me. He was wild. I’d never seen Ramiro like that, and that’s saying something because he’s always been so damned reactive. And it wasn’t because he loved me and you’re my little sister. Ramiro was out for blood because someone hurt you, because he loved you even then—even if he wouldn’t let himself admit it.”
“You’re insane—”
Carolina snorts, then throws her hands in the air, signaling resignation. “Fine. I tried. All I want is for you not to go into your marriage without having all the information. Do yourself a favor, though, will you? Before you go any further with wedding planning, talk to Ramiro. Be sure you’ve picked the right guy, because I think the one you’ve always loved has been right there all along. And he still is.”
Talk to Ramiro.
Should be easy enough, right? We’re both adults, and we’ve had many a difficult conversation this past year. For two people who hardly said hello before becoming roommates, we’ve come a long way.
The harder part will be deciding if I continue with Devyn, if Carolina’s suspicions are true.
If, and there’s a really big ‘if,’ Ramiro does love me, and has loved me, I can’t deny I also love Devyn. It would have been one thing if Devyn had never come into the picture, but he did, and I do love him. I love them both.
It is possible to be in love with two people at the same time. The question is, who am I willing to devote loyalty and a future to?
After I pick up René and Oscar from school, I’m practicing the conversation in my head. While I cook dinner for them, I practice asking him if he loves me—and if he does, for how long.
I’m determined to talk to him tonight after the guys go to bed, but right as dinner is ready, I get a text from him asking if I can stay with the boys tonight. Leonardo, his best friend who’s been in the army, is on leave and in town for a few days, so they are going out to a bar.
I remember Leonardo vaguely from before he enlisted. I remember Leo and his younger brother Marco raising hell along with Ramiro, but I mostly heard about it through stories Carolina or Don Gustavo shared over the years. Shortly after I moved to this neighborhood, both Marco and Leo enlisted.
While Ramiro is friendly with many of the other mechanics he works with, I know he misses his best friends like hell. I know that much for a fact, so I can’t very well deny him the precious few days he might have with Leo.
It looks like our conversation will have to wait until tomorrow.
It’s two in the morning when I hear the door open and whispered voices filter into the living room.
After grabbing my slippers and wrapping myself in a robe, I head downstairs to find Leo propping up Ramiro, who is holding on to him with one arm around his neck.
“Sara!” Ramiro shouts in a stage whisper with the biggest smile.
“Shhh, you’ll wake the boys up,” I say.
“Shhh,” he repeats, bringing his finger to his mouth, smiling around it. “Okay. You are so pretty tonight.”
I shake my head. “Please tell me you didn’t drive like that.”
“No, ma’am,” Leo says, followed by a hiccup. “Took a ride share. Where do you want him?” Leo asks.
“The couch is fine. Thanks, Leo.”
The minute his head hits the pillow, Ramiro lets out a soft snore.
Realizing he’s heading out the door, I stop Leo with a hand on his massive bicep. “Why don’t you stay a few minutes? Have a cup of coffee? Sober up a little before you go?”
He spins around to find me again, and with a huge grin he nods, then follows me to the kitchen where he sits at the kitchen island.
Leo sips on the coffee gingerly after I pour it, and I have to fight not to snicker at the sight of this behemoth sipping coffee from what looks like a tiny cup of espresso in his massive hand. I can almost picture him poking out his little finger, though he doesn’t. Instead of laughing, I make myself a tea and join him.
“Can I ask you something?” Leo asks.
“Of course.”
“What the hell did you do to Ramiro?”
I rear back. “What? I didn’t do anything.”
“You got him all fucked up.”
“I don’t think—it’s Francisca … not …” I trip over my words. “Oh dear. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“All night,” Leo says, then hiccups again. “All night, it was Sara this, and Sara that. Sara says. After the bar, I took him to a strip club to get his mind off you. Got him a lap dance with this beauty who I know for a fact is his type, and he shoved her right off his lap. He said something about Sara.”
“Really?” I asked, not at all pleased.
Leo nods. “Yeah. The poor woman landed on her ass on the floor, and we got kicked out.”
I grab my mug of tea to hide my smile.
Leo barks out a laugh that has me shushing him again. “It’s not funny, Sara. They kicked us out! I’m now banned from the only strip club worth any salt around here.”
“Too bad,” I say with a shrug, still amused as all hell at what happened.
“Well, I didn’t do anything to Ramiro. I’m just temporarily here to help him out with the boys and look—” I bring up my hand to flash him my ring.
Leo’s jaw drops as he sways slightly in his seat from trying to focus on my hand. “Oh,” he says a bit forlornly in a way that is almost comical. “So that’s why he’s all fucked up. You’re getting married.”
“I sure am.”
“Do I know him?”
I shake my head. “Don’t think so. He’s a mechanic at Tavo’s with Ramiro—moved up here this last year.”
“So, not only do you not give my boy the time of day, but you also then get engaged to his coworker?” He shakes his head solemnly. “Damn, Sara. I didn’t know you were so cold-hearted.”
“Hey,” I whine. “I’m not cold-hearted. I’m here helping him, aren’t I?”
“I’m just teasing you,” Leo says.
Heading to the living room, Leo trails me. I kneel next to the couch to take Ramiro’s shoes off and lift his head gently to prop a pillow under his head. Ramiro murmurs something I can’t understand followed by a barely there whisper that I think is, “Sara, please.”
Leo snorts, and I sense him walking to the door, so I stand to follow him.
We continue to chat in the living room as we head out together. He beams when I tell him I got my master’s in nursing, and I beam equally brightly at him when he admits this might be his last year in the military. Unsure if he wants to re-enlist, he might be back home next year.
“You’re not driving, are you?” I ask him.
He shakes his head and points next door with his thumb. “Don Gustavo is letting me crash at his place for a few days.”
“It’s great seeing you, Leo. Really. I’m glad you’ve stayed safe,” I tell him and mean it.
“Thanks. You look good, too. Thanks for taking care of my boy. Take care,” Leo whispers by the door.
“You too,” I say with a smile and reach for a hug. I meet with the hard wall of muscle the army has transformed him into. Leo is tall and handsome, with beautiful swarthy skin and inky-black hair like Ramiro’s, if he ever lets it grow out. I remember most of the single women on this block were head over heels in love with Leo before he left. I can’t imagine what they’re like now that he’s nearly doubled his size in pure muscle.
Despite having said goodbyes already, Leo lingers. Feeling awkward as I tend to do, I fill the silence. “How’s your baby brother?”
“Ah, Marco is somewhere on the Pacific.”
That’s right, Ramiro’s other best friend left for the Navy straight out of college. Can’t believe he’s still there.
“Can I ask you something?” Leo asks, his eyes downcast and suddenly looking a little sheepish.
“I haven’t seen Camila,” I say, anticipating that he was going to ask about a young woman from down the street he was once in love with. “Last I heard, she went to the east coast for med school. She should be done this year, if my calculations are right.”
“I wasn’t going to ask about Camila,” Leo says, unable to meet my eye. It’s too dark, but I’d bet my favorite running shoes his cheeks have turned red at the mention of her name.
“Oh, you weren’t?”
He shakes his head. “No. I was going to ask that you fix whatever you did to Ramiro.”
“What? I already told you. I did nothing.”
“You sure? Cuz tonight he was …”
“What?”
Leonardo scratches the back of his head. “Fucked up, Sara. He got drunk, and he was fucked up in the head over you.”
“What did he say?” I ask, running his words from earlier through my mind. He never really gave any specifics about why he thinks Ramiro is messed up about me.
“It’s not my place to say, but do me a favor? Don’t hurt him?”
Thanking him for his service and asking him to stay safe one last time, I walk him out into the dark night. I watch the broad back of the lovesick soldier retreat into the darkness, hoping he and Camila will find a way back to each other one day.
When I place a blanket over Ramiro to settle him in for the night, he stirs. “Sara,” he whines.
“I’ll go get you a glass of water,” I say, but Ramiro grabs my hand, holding me in place.
“Sara, don’t do it,” he says.
“You don’t want water?”
“Don’t marry Devyn. You can’t,” he slurs.
“Ramiro, you’re drunk. This isn’t the time for this conversation.”
“I’m not that drunk, Sara, I lo—”
“Don’t, Ramiro. Don’t say what you were about to say. Not today.”
“Why not today?”
“You really don’t remember?”
Ramiro sits up and swings his legs so his feet reach the floor. He studies me, and he doesn’t seem quite as drunk as I thought he did when he walked in. I pry my hand from his to head to the kitchen and bring him a glass of water.
So many years imagining he’d love me back, when he’s finally about to say it, he couldn’t have picked a worse moment. Any other time, any other day, it would have been a welcome declaration. Understanding he is drunk, I do my best to keep my temper in check, but inside I’m seething at his timing. I can’t believe I’m asking him to stay quiet, but I have no other choice.
When he gulps down the water, I grab the glass. “It’s her one-year anniversary, Ramiro. Francisca died a year ago today.”
“It is?”
“I thought that’s why you got hammered.”
“No. I didn’t realize … I … oh, how are Oscar and René?”
“They’re fine. We talked about playing hooky from school and work. Instead, we’re planning on heading to her gravesite to freshen up her flowers. Maybe ice cream for breakfast after. They were both on board for skipping school, at least.”
Ramiro smiles. “You think of everything.”
“Will you come with us?” I ask him, knowing he will.
“Yeah, Sara. I’ll come with you.”
After I’m done getting ready in the morning, I head to the boys’ room to wake them up. I’m startled to find René already dressed. The shower in their bathroom is running, so I know Oscar is in there.
René is freshly showered himself, wearing his church clothes, and has styled his hair with gel and a side part I remember seeing all the time on him when Francisca took them to church.
“You dressed for your mom?” I ask.
He nods at me from the reflection in his mirror. “She said we had to dress our best for church. I know it’s not church … but it feels like it.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” I say, validating his feelings.
“You got Oscar to wake up and start getting ready?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s so helpful, René. Thank you.”
“I think Mom would like that.”
“She sure would. Would you like me to do Oscar’s hair like yours, or you think you got it?”
“I got it,” says the little boy who has had to grow up so fast.
Oscar picks out a bouquet of blue irises, René one of white calla lilies, and Ramiro a dozen red roses. The colorful blooms brighten the face of Francisca’s tombstone, where they’re carefully and lovingly placed.
“Miss Jenna says we can talk to her, especially when we come here to see her,” Oscar says helpfully over a stretch of silence.
“I think your counselor is right, buddy,” I say. “Would you like to say a few words now, or do you each want alone time?”
“Alone time,” René says. “Oscar and me. If that’s okay.”
Ramiro offers me his elbow and I lace my arm through it so we can go on a short walk to be out of earshot but not out of sight.
“When they’re done talking to her, I can go on a walk with the boys if you want alone time with her too,” I say.
Ramiro smiles sadly at me. “No. I talk to her all the time. I don’t need to be here to do it.”
For some reason, that thought makes me smile. Maybe Miss Jenna is doing more to help this man through his grief than either of us could have imagined.
CHAPTER 28
After a long weekend and longer week at work, I rush home after a rare day shift Friday evening, and don’t so much as wince when the door accidentally slams behind me. I run to my bedroom, find a change of clothes, text Devyn, and hop into the shower.
After I’m done dressing, I get a disappointing text from Devyn. I forgot he has poker with his buddies tonight, so I can’t share my good news. I check on the boys next, and they’re not in their rooms.
The house is quiet until the front door opens and Ramiro walks in, still in his work clothes. “Ramiro!” I squeal and nearly jump on him when I throw my arms around him.
“What is this?” he asks, wrapping an arm around my waist.
“I have good news! Where are the boys?”
“Trevor’s. Jaleesa picked them up after school for a play date since we had them over last weekend.”
“Oh,” I say with disappointment. I’m buzzing with excitement about telling everyone what happened at work today.
“Well?” Ramiro asks.
“What?”
“What’s the good news?”
Right. I smile at him, my excitement coming back in a second wave. “I got the promotion I wanted!”
“You did?” Ramiro asks, his entire face glowing with the brightest smile I’ve seen on him all year.
“I did! You are now looking at Heartland Metro Hospital’s oncology department day nurse manager.” I prop my hands on my hips and make myself tall. “And I got a huge pay raise.”
“This is amazing,” Ramiro says, throwing his hands in the air, then bringing them down around me for a hug.
I hug him back. While he congratulates me, he twirls me in his arms one too many times. When I complain I’m getting dizzy, he sets me down and pulls away from me—both of us a mess of giggles and painfully wide smiles.
“I knew you’d get it,” he says. “Never doubted you.”
“Thanks, Ramiro,” I say at hearing his genuine words.
He brushes a loose strand of hair to tug behind my ear. “I’m so proud of you,” he breathes out, looking me straight in the eye like he wants to dare me to doubt just how proud of me he is.
I press my hand to my heart. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”
What happens next stuns us both. I don’t know if it’s gratitude for his words, sheer elation at reaching one of my biggest career goals since I became a nurse, or simply the beautiful man standing in front of me, but I close the distance between us again.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. A breathy kiss while we both continue to recover from all the excitement. I nip his lip and he kisses me back harder, his hand cupping the back of my head to keep me in place and so close to him.
For long seconds we kiss and kiss, and I’m not thinking about what this means, or why it’s happening. I don’t so much as stop to analyze why he’s kissing me back, or what this means for Devyn and me.
Instead, I focus on the silky feel of his tongue, on the softness of his lips. I rub my mouth against his to feel the scruff of his five o’clock shadow scraping my skin so I can feel the pain within the tenderness. His bicep flexes in my palm when he moves to tighten me to his body. We’re both desperate to stay like this, to have our bodies connected and never let go.
He grows bolder with his kiss and shoves his tongue down my throat in a kiss that feels a lot like … like we’re having sex.
The mere thought of a naked Ramiro Jimenez heats my very core, and my toes curl inside my favorite sneakers.
I drag my weight to fall to the couch, and he follows, pulling on top of my body. That’s when my legs get a mind of their own, wrapping around his waist, pulling his groin painfully against me.
