Rush (18 page)

“It’s not polite to stare,” he said, his eyes opening and meeting hers in that very direct way he had.

“You big faker. How long have you been awake?”

“Not long.”

“You should have woken me up sooner.” She smoothed a hand down his body and found him hard. “We could already be working on a way to fix this problem you seem to have.” She stroked him, eliciting a moan. “I know just what to do.”

Wanting to do something for him after all of the things he’d done for her, she threw off the covers. She kissed her way down up his body, paying special attention to her favorite parts until she arrived at her very favorite part of him. Taking him in her mouth, she coaxed and teased until she knew he was right on the edge.

He reached a hand down to her. “Come here.”

“No. Lie back and enjoy. Let me do this for you.”

He groaned and said something incoherent as she went down on him again. He watched her with eyes hot and heavy. She took her time, then quickened the pace when she knew he needed it. He came with a jerk and a moan ripped from his throat. Dotting kisses back up his body, she hoped he knew she’d never betray him, tried to tell him without words that he could trust her even when she couldn’t be honest.

“Hmm, problem solved,” she whispered and kissed him just below his ear.

He rolled them so he was on top, hovering over her, never crushing her. “We’ve only got twenty minutes, but I’m up for the challenge.” Palming her breast, he kissed her neck in that way that drove her crazy.

“What do you mean twenty minutes?” she gasped.

He nibbled her earlobe. “Hmm, before we have to go see my mother.”

She bolted upright, shoving him off her. “Your
what
?”

He rolled easily to the side. “I have to make an appearance and you’ll have to go with me obviously.” He went for her breast again.

“In twenty minutes? Oh, no.” She knocked his hand aside and climbed out of bed. “Your
mother
?” Throwing up her hands she stomped into the closet. “What am I going to wear?”

Lucas watched her go, chuckling to himself at her reaction. He hated leaving the bed, hated more the reason he wouldn’t get to return Mi’s favor.

She bounced back into the room, gloriously naked and madder than a coiled snake. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she demanded. “How long are we staying?”

“We’re going for dinner. Come here.”

“Dinner! Oh, my God. You should have told me sooner.”

He craned his neck to take in her backside as she disappeared back into the closet. Yeah, he really hated that his mother had called and insisted he show up tonight. She’d laid the guilt on thick, using his sister’s upcoming trip as an excuse to get him there. Not that he didn’t want to see his family. He sat up on the edge of the bed and scrubbed his hands over his face. He’d have to explain Mi and he wasn’t entirely sure how she’d want to be described.

He leaned forward to see into the closet. She was still naked, frowning over a couple of dresses. He hated them both, knowing one of them would soon be covering entirely too much of her.

She turned to look at him, a frown still creasing her brow. “Which one?” She held up one, then the other in front of her body.

“Neither. Come back to bed, I’m not done with you yet.”

“No way.” She bit her lip. “I wish I had time for a shower. I smell like sex.” She crinkled her nose like that was a bad thing.

“We can take one together.”

“Lucas, be serious.”

“I am serious.” He got up, went into the bathroom and turned the shower on.

Mi followed him in and gasped when she got a look at herself in the mirror. “My face.”

“Is bruised, but beautiful. Come take a shower with me.”

“I’m meeting your mother for the first time. I’m not going to show up late because you wanted water play.”

“And my sisters.”

She whipped her head around and glared at him. “Your sisters? How many?”

“Three.”

She slumped against the counter. “Three?”

He nodded.

“Any brothers or other relatives I should know about?”

“I have some aunts and uncles, but they won’t be there.”

“Thank God.”

“Just
Abuelita
.”

She gave him a funny look.

“My grandma.”

“I’m meeting your mother
and
grandmother? Tonight? With twenty minutes notice, looking like I got beat up, reeking of sex?”

He wasn’t sure how he should respond, recognizing a potential disaster when he saw one. Instead he opened the shower door and made a motion for her to step in.

Half an hour later, they hustled down to Lucas’s truck. Mi’s hair was still damp, but she’d done something to her eyes that made them sparkle like new pennies. She’d put on lipstick that drew his attention to her generous lips. God, he loved her mouth. And the things she did to him with it. Thinking about those things made his dick twitch so he tried not to think as he helped her into the truck.

He’d filled her in on his family while they got ready. He was the youngest of four and the only son. His parents had divorced when he was young and his father lived in California with his new wife. His mother never remarried. Two of his sisters would be there tonight. His oldest sister lived in Houston with her husband and two daughters. Of his other two sisters, one was divorced the other unmarried.

“So your ablu— ”

“Ah-bwe-lee-ta,” he pronounced. “But you’ll call her Mrs. Vega.”

“So she’s your father’s mother.”

“No. She’s my mother’s mother. We were given my mother’s last name instead of my father’s.”

“That’s unusual.”

He kept his eyes on the road. “Yes.”

“Can I ask why?”

“There was no choice.
Abuelo
insisted on it.”

“Your mother’s father?” she asked.

He gave a curt nod.

“Your father didn’t have a problem with that?”

“He did. Still does. But my grandfather was a man who always got his way. Always. Eventually my father left my mother, left us, because he couldn’t bend to his father-in-law’s will any longer.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, flicking off the shreds of anger he still carried. “I was named after
Abuelo
. Joaquin Lucas Romero Vega. Romero was my father’s addition, his dig at my grandfather, giving his only son his last name. Later after my parents split,
Abuelo
had Romero removed from my birth certificate.”

Mi couldn’t contain her shock. “That’s… selfish.”

“That was
Abuelo
.”

“When did he pass away?”

They pulled up to a huge ornate wrought iron gate. Lucas turned to her, searching her face in the darkened cab. He ignored the voice from the speaker box requesting their names.

“Three years ago. And before you offer your condolences, you should know that the day they put
Abuelo
in the ground was one of the happiest days of my life. I would have shoveled the dirt over him myself if they’d have let me.”

His vehement words delivered with a bald hatred she never knew existed within him, scattered goose bumps over her flesh. She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. And maybe she was.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Lucas lowered the truck window and gave his name to the guy on the other side of the speaker box. The gates slid slowly open. He rolled his shoulders as though shaking off a weight and stared straight ahead. Mi sat in the cab next to him and wondered what she was in for. Every family had their share of problems and skeletons in the closet, she knew this all too well. But the way he’d talked about his grandfather was almost like a warning as though the man was still alive. She bit her lip, wondering if maybe this was a mistake. And then she got a look at the house and
knew
it was.

Two and three stories high, the mansion rose up from the bricked drive like a great stone Phoenix with its wings spread wide. More than a dozen large, arched windows glowed from within as if they owned the power company and could afford to light every room at once. Lucas circled around a tremendous stone fountain set in the middle of the drive like a jewel in a crown and stopped the truck.

Mi looked down at her blouse, peasant skirt, and sandals—perfect for a summer night out with friends—and wished she’d worn her one and only cocktail dress. Lucas’s clothes were casual, too, but of a much finer cut and quality.

“You look great,” he said, breaking into her thoughts.

“They do know I’m coming to dinner with you, right?” She looked up at the front door, massive and intimidating at the top of the stone steps. She was so far out of her element she wasn’t even sure she was still in Texas.

He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “They know I’m bringing a guest.”

“A guest,” she repeated, frowning over the formality.

“How
should
I introduce you?”

She looked at him then, unsure of her response. What was she to him? A friend? Sure. A lover? Most definitely. They lived together out of necessity not choice. They’d agreed to be exclusive, but they’d never been out on a date. What
did
that make them?

“Guest is fine,” she replied.

He climbed out of the truck, came around to her side and opened her door. He held out his hand to help her down. They climbed the steps side by side. Lucas pressed the doorbell.

“Guest is stupid,” he muttered.

“Lover? Bedmate? Fuck buddy? Friends with benefits?”

He snorted and slung his arm around her. “Fuck buddy. I like that one.”

A woman who looked to be about Mi’s age opened the thick door. “Welcome, Mr. Vega.” She stepped aside, motioning for them to enter.

Mi tried not to gawk at all the splendor as they followed the woman through the foyer and deeper into the house. Dark wood, crystal, gilt, ornate, Italianate and all other kinds of –ate she could never afford glittered and gleamed. She kept her hands at her sides, holding her skirt, careful not to brush too close to anything.

“Mrs. Vega is expecting you and your guest in The Rose Room,” the woman said over her shoulder.

“Thank you, Carla,” Lucas said.

The Rose Room
Mi mouthed to herself, trying not to roll her eyes.

They stopped at a set of paneled double doors, which Carla slid open for them. Carla stood off to the side to allow them to enter the room. “May I bring you and your guest a beverage?” Carla asked.

Lucas looked to her. “Mi?”

Mi always thought it best to face the worst sober. “Water, please.”

Carla looked at her expectantly. “Still or sparkling?”

“Sparkling, please.”

“Of course. Mr. Vega?”

“I’ll have the same. Thank you.”

Carla bowed to them, then went off to get their drinks.

Lucas placed his hand low on Mi’s back and ushered her into the room. The first thing Mi thought was
why is this room not pink or covered in roses?
The second thing was that she was woefully under dressed
and
under accessorized. But it was what it was so she plastered on her
Pleasure at Home
smile and ratcheted up her determination that this would
not
be a disaster of epic proportions.

“Lucas!” A woman with long, sleek, dark hair, and eyes like Lucas’s rushed over to him and gave him a hug. She pulled back and examined his face. “What happened to your forehead?”

“Accident,” he replied.

The three other women in the room turned as if one, then made their way over to them. An older woman about the same height as Mi, who could only be Lucas’s grandmother, patted and kissed him, murmuring in Spanish all the while. If it wasn’t for the tightness around his mouth, Mi would have thought he enjoyed her attention. Next came a woman who could only be his mother with threads of gray through her blue-black hair. Reserved in her greeting, she had tears in her eyes as she embraced him. The women continued to fuss over Lucas and his injury as though he was the king of the castle come home. Mi found herself wedged into a corner by their exuberance to be near him.

“There’s someone I’d like you all to meet,” Lucas finally said, breaking through the chatter. He held out a hand to Mi, drawing her into their circle. He put his arm around her shoulders, bringing her up against him. “This is Miyuki Price-Jones… my girlfriend.”

Mi suppressed the twitch of her lips that wanted to be a smile. For a heady moment there she thought he was going to introduce her as his fuck buddy.

“Mi this is my sister Elisa and my other sister Carmen,” he said gesturing to the woman who had greeted him first and then to the other woman who was the tallest of the four Vega women. He continued the introductions. “My mother Isadora Vega and my grandmother Ofelia Vega.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Mi said, shaking each woman’s hand in turn.

Lucas’s grandmother said something to his mother in Spanish, and his mother replied likewise. Elisa rolled her eyes, while Carmen nodded along with what was being said. Mi didn’t have to understand the words to know they were talking about her and not in a flattering way.

Lucas’s face flushed, his body tensing against hers. “English please,” he said pointedly to his mother. “I know how tiresome you find rudeness.”

Carla came into the room, carrying a tray with two glasses and served them to Lucas and Mi. After Carla left, Lucas’s mother dropped dramatically onto a nearby sofa with an exaggerated sigh.

His grandmother gave her daughter a disapproving look, then turned to Mi, examining her head to toe. “You are not Latina.” Her tone did more than suggest that this was not a good thing.

Mi would have answered, but Lucas beat her to it “No,
Abuelita
. She’s not.” He sounded weary as if this was a long-standing argument in which there would never be a resolution.

“Mario Ortiz’s daughter is in town. You remember her, pretty girl, nice broad hips for lots of babies. She asked about you. I’ll phone her and have her join us for coffee and dessert.”

“Do that and we won’t stay past the first course,” Lucas replied with a challenge in his voice that matched the look on his face.

His grandmother reached up and patted him on the chest, which was as far up as she could. Pride showed on her face, softening her words. “So much machismo just like your
abuelo
. God rest his soul.” She crossed herself in the Catholic tradition, kissing the locket around her neck as a finale.

“What do you do for a living… Mi, is it?” Elisa asked. Lucas looked at her with a mixture of relief and gratitude for the subject change.

“Yes, I prefer Mi.” And here’s where it got tricky, Mi thought. People were either repulsed or fascinated by her job. “I’m the host of a shopping show on TSN.”

“Oh, I love the Television Shopping Network!” And then recognition dawned on Elisa’s face. She gave Lucas a knowing smile and wink, which was quickly replaced by a look of distress. “Oh lord, that’s the show that got blown up.”

Carmen, silent until now, spoke with a soft voice contradictory to her extraordinary height. “It was on the news and the paper this morning.” She looked to her mother. “You remember.” Her lips twisted into a smirk. “The show that sells sex toys?”

“Carmen,” their grandmother scolded. “Watch your language in my house.” Then she turned her dark, wrinkly eyes on Mi, slicing her to ribbons with her laser stare. “Lucas, explain.”

Lucas went into a brief explanation of what had been happening at the studio, leaving out the part about his being Mi’s bodyguard. Mi tried not to stare at the carpet, keeping her gaze on Lucas, but with four sets of Vega eyes fixed on her this was not an easy task. The air in the room seemed to thicken with condemnation. Mi tried not to twitch under the pressure, listening to Lucas as though her existence depended on it. And it probably did.

When Lucas finished, his grandmother burst into a flurry of Spanish aimed at him. Mi bit her lip. It seemed disapproval was a universal language.

Elisa used the distraction to sidle up to Mi. Putting a hand on Mi’s arm, she leaned in to whisper in her ear. “So, do you get a discount?”

“Mostly I get them for free,” Mi whispered back.

“I think you and I are going to be great friends.” She linked her arm through Mi’s and steered her out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind them, Elisa let out a deep breath. “Once she gets going, it never stops. You’re lucky not to know any Spanish. Come outside with me.” She went on ahead, leaving Mi to catch up.

Mi followed Elisa out to a covered patio, where Elisa leaned against a railing. She pulled a packet of cigarettes out of her pocket and offered one to Mi.

“No, thanks,” Mi said.

Elisa lit one up and inhaled, then blew a stream of smoke over her shoulder. She crossed an arm over her middle and propped her elbow on it, holding her cigarette up. “I love your show. You’re so good, you make me want to buy everything. Except those things guys use to get off, of course.”

She took another puff off her cigarette. “So how did you two really meet? Because I know Lucas, and he’s more straight-laced than
Abuelita
. I can’t believe he’d go after someone like you. No offense, I think you’re fantastic, but it’s a wonder he can walk with that stick up his ass.”

Mi laughed and it felt good. She liked Elisa a lot, but didn’t quite feel comfortable enough to fill in the gaps Lucas had intentionally left blank. “We met on the set of the show as Lucas said.”

“Well then how… oh, right. Cal. Mmm, that is one sexy cowboy.” Elisa’s opinion didn’t seem to need Mi’s agreement, because she plowed on ahead with the conversation without her. “She could be at it for hours in there. Much is expected of Lucas, as I’m sure he’s already told you. Being the heir and all. And at the top of the list is his marrying a woman of Mexican descent to continue the Vega line.”

Elisa took a hit off her cigarette, trailing the smoke out slowly, then gestured toward the house. “Ignore Carmen, she wishes she was born a boy so she could’ve inherited in his place instead of being Lucas’s stand-in. But then she would’ve had to spend hours in
Abuelo’s
study learning how to run the family business and wouldn’t have had time to read.” She put a hand over mouth and stage whispered, “Romance novels.” She laughed. “Carmen tries to hide them, but I know and now you know—” She gave Mi a conspirator wink. “—that she likes bodice rippers, the steamier the better.” She flicked her cigarette over the railing. “But then so do I. I sneak them from her when she’s not looking.”

Mi smiled. “I like them, too.”

Elisa smiled back. “I just knew when I saw you, we were destined to be friends. You’re much better than that bitch, Vanessa. Prettier too. Who does your hair? I love the highlights.”

Mi put a hand up to her hair. “Oh, they’re natural.”

“That’s it. The friendship is off. You cannot have prettier hair than me. I won’t allow it.”

“Yeah, but look at your legs, they go up to my chin. I’d love to be tall and long legged like you.”

“Okay, friendship’s back on.” Elisa moved to the patio door. “Let’s go see if there’s anything left of Lucas. Poor boy.”

Mi followed her back through the house. Elisa stopped at a table and opened a drawer, pulling out breath mints and a small bottle of perfume. She popped a couple of mints, offering the tin to Mi, then gave herself a spritz of perfume. “Ssh, I’m a secret smoker.”

“I won’t tell.”

“Goes with being the gad-about youngest daughter. I’m thirty-two, only a year and a half older than Lucas, but mentally he’s at least ten years older.
Abuelo
made an old man out of him. In a way I feel sorry for Lucas, being the only boy under
Abuelo’s
constant scrutiny. He was a… hard man. So cold. He didn’t have any use for me, thank God, so he left me alone.”

They stopped at the doors to the Rose Room. Elisa put her ear to the panel. “I don’t think she’s done with him yet,” she whispered.

Carla appeared. “Dinner’s ready, Miss Vega. Would you like me to announce?”

Elisa waved a hand. “No, thank you, Carla. I’ll do it.” She waited for Carla to leave. “Watch this,” she said to Mi, then threw the doors open dramatically. “Dinner is served,” she announced in a heavy British accent, finishing with a deep bow.