Say Forever (24 page)

"Wasn't that fun, mija?" Laughter rings in each word.

And just like that, I forget about my holy trip of terror. I forget about the biting wind and the pain in my tailbone as I lean into him and plant a kiss on his frozen lips. Seeing Andrés this happy is like a balm to my soul. I wish he could laugh like this always.

***

The lodge is packed by the time we heave our exhausted and sore bodies into chairs later that day. We rode down the hill for what felt like hours until we were both so tired, we could hardly stand, let alone walk. I've never had so much fun in all my life. Andrés orders me a coffee with Bailey's Irish Cream, and I down most of it by the time our nachos arrive. I'm feeling pretty good after my second cup and a full stomach.

Andrés and I are sitting next to each other at the end of a long community table, and I lean back in my chair and watch the band set up as he reaches for my hand. He flashes a long, languid smile and winks at me when I look up into his soft eyes. I don't resist when he leans in for a kiss. Mm. I relish the feel of his warm lips on mine. He tastes like spiced rum and
queso.
And now that I'm exhausted, full and tipsy, I want very much to go back to our hotel and make love the rest of the night.

Andrés breaks the kiss when the band starts up. He kicks back his chair and extends a hand.

"May I have this dance?"

I look up at him and laugh. "I don't know if I have the energy."

"This is the best time to dance, mija," he says with a gleam in his eyes. "When you are loosened up."

I let him help me out of my chair, and then I follow him onto the dance floor.

The music sounds like German Polka. I vaguely remember hearing it on an elementary school field trip to the German settler town of Fredericksburg. I'm not quite sure how to dance to it, so I follow his lead, relieved when he two-steps us around the floor. And here's the amazing part. Despite being tired, sore and tipsy, I don't miss a step. I remember how humiliated I was the first time we danced together. I've never been a great dancer, and I was so nervous around Andrés the first night, I was stiff and clumsy. My raging hormones and his pure male sexiness had me so much on edge, I'd felt like he was trying to sweep the floor with a broken broomstick.

Now, I feel like I'm gliding, and I imagine the soles of my feet are like that plastic sled and the floor is made of ice. We laugh and smile and he twirls me again and again, and I don't fall over my feet once. I think this magical day filled with crunchy cornflakes, sledding, dancing and passionate lovemaking, might just end up being the best day of my life. The only thing I can think of that would make it even better is if we ended it with more lovemaking. As I look into his darkening gaze, I notice his slow, seductive smile and feel the warmth from his hand seeping into mine, I know that's exactly how our day will end.

***

Andrés

I can't believe how easy it is to dance with Christina. We glide together as if we've been doing this for years. The truth is we've only been back to Dylan's a few times since the first night we met. I could tell dancing wasn't Christina's thing, and I didn't want to make her uncomfortable. But tonight her feet slide across the floor with ease and she sways in perfect timing to my rhythm. When the band strikes up a slow country song, I move my hand off her shoulder and settle it on her lower back, just above that sweet round ass I love so much. I pull her closer, pressing her soft body against mine.

I kiss the top of her forehead, whispering into her ear. "You look happy."

"I am." She flashes a radiant smile that nearly takes my breath away. "Because you are."

I falter and nearly stumble at the sincerity in her emerald eyes. Is that all it takes to make her happy? To see me happy? I'm humbled, grateful, and saddened as the realization washes over me. She's been mourning the loss of our child all this month, and what have I done to comfort her? Not much, because I've been wrapped up in my own miserable problems. I think about this job, and how much I hate it, and how I carry that stress home with me each night. If her happiness depends on mine, she will never, ever be happy unless I quit Cruz Automotive.

"I love you."

I look down at Christina. Worry lines are etched into her brow and her rosy lips are turned down. She must have sensed my unhappiness. I swallow hard and then force a smile. I will not let anything ruin this day. "I love you, too."

I wrap her in my arms, pressing more kisses on her temple as we move slowly to the gentle rhythm of the music. We dance a few more slow songs and drink a few more drinks. By the time we finish dancing to "The Cotton Eyed Joe," her cheeks are glowing with radiance. I've never seen her more beautiful.

Another slow song starts, and when I press her sweet little body against mine, she responds by "accidentally" grazing my groin with her hand. When I grab her wrist and flash a warning glare, she smiles coyly.

I lean down and growl into her ear. "Are you ready to go back to the hotel?"

Her answer is a breathy whisper. "More than ready."

***

Christina

Despite my exhausting day, I find my second wind as Andrés strips off my clothes and lies me down. When he slowly slides into me, burying his shaft deep inside my wet channel, I lift my hips, grinding into him. I melt into his body's heat as his lips seek out mine. I cup his face in my hands, relishing the feel of his rough skin on my palms. Our lovemaking is a timeless dance, our bodies, hearts and souls moving as one. He brings me close to climax several times before we both finally give into the powerful release that washes through us. We come undone, and then Andrés makes love to me again.

When he finally rolls off of me and pulls me against his chest, whispering Spanish words of love into my ear, my heart and soul sing with happiness, and my sated body hums in satisfaction. We fall asleep in each other's arms. The perfect ending to the perfect day.

Chapter Twenty-One

Christina

Last night marks the first night Andrés slept in bed with me since the nightmares began. I've forgotten how wonderful it feels to wake up in his arms, but that good morning kiss is pure heaven. The best part was he slept soundly beside me, no bad dreams at all. I'm hoping this little vacation was just what he needed to unwind and escape the nightmares, and he will return to our bed from now on. I strongly believe his recurring nightmares are associated with the pressures from his job, and maybe a change in employment would put an end to them. Even though I know Andrés doesn't want to let Tio down, my fiancé's mental health is more important than hurt feelings.

Though I'm sad to leave the mountains behind, Andrés reassures me we will make winter in Vegas an annual event, and next time we'll plan to spend more time in the snow. Andrés wants me to see the downtown lights tonight before we fly back to Texas tomorrow. He's been to Vegas a few times with his cousins and he says the lightshow is unlike anything he's ever seen. Though I'm sure he's right and I'll be impressed, after the way we made love last night, I'd be perfectly content to spend the rest of our vacation in the hotel room. We're staying at a hotel called The Golden Nugget, which Andrés says is at the heart of the light show.

I'm unpacking and trying to find just the right dress for dinner, although I already have an idea what I want to wear. Grace packed a sequined little black number in my suitcase. It must be one of her dresses, because I'd never be bold enough to buy something like this. As I eye the thing with a frown, I wonder if it's supposed to be worn with tights underneath. It barely covers my ass. Then I remember some of the girls I saw in the smoky casino downstairs. Their dresses were cut so short, their crotches were practically hanging out of them. I heave a sigh as I toss the dress on the bed. What would Andrés say if I wore it tonight? A smile lights up my face as I think I know exactly what will happen. He'll rip that dress off me and make love to me all night long. Okay, maybe I
will
wear it. I'll have to remember to thank Grace later for packing it.

Then I remember that
other
dress she packed. I should have known why my suitcase was so heavy. She actually had the nerve to pack my wedding gown, minus the train, of course, which I'm sure would never fit. The heavy silk skirt takes up nearly my entire suitcase. I can see the material bulging from beneath the luggage divider. I know it's getting wrinkled, but what the hell am I supposed to do with it? After all the stress Andrés and I have been through this month, I'm not sure now is the right time to get married. Besides, I never found the right shoes, and a girl can't experience the most momentous day of her life without the right footwear. I'd have my girl card revoked for sure.

Andrés is still in the shower, so I hurry and slip into the black dress and patent leather and rhinestone wedge heels. I sit at a pretty vanity table with a lit mirror and quickly apply mascara, blush, and lipstick. Andrés doesn't like my makeup too heavy. He says I'm beautiful without it. I'm running a brush through my hair when he comes out of the bathroom.

The steam from the shower eddies into the room, carrying the scent of his spicy aftershave. I love the way he smells. The heat from his musk sets my pheromones ringing like alarm sirens in a natural disaster. As I look at his clean-shaven face and slicked back hair, I realize my little black dress has nothing on Andrés's pure male sexiness.

My legs wobble as I slowly stand, and I can feel moisture pooling between my thighs.

He comes to me in a few long strides, his gaze traveling the length of my body as he lets out a low whistle. The look in his eyes is like a predatory cat preparing to pounce on his prey. "You know better than to wear a dress like that around me, mija," he growls into my ear before nipping at my neck.

A soft moan escapes my lips as he alternates between biting and kissing the soft curve of my neck all the way to my shoulder.

He cups the globes of my ass and hikes the flimsy fabric up over my hips. "Turn around," he commands in a tone that leaves no room for argument. I spin and watch as he hikes the dress up to my waist, balling the fabric in one hand and squeezing my breast hard with the other. I cry out when he pinches my nipple through the fabric. I gasp when he bends down behind me and rips my panties to the floor. He presses a hand against the back of my neck and pushes me forward. "Hands on the table," he commands.

I eagerly obey, and then he's kicking the stool forward and lifting my knees onto the padded bench. I'm on all fours, watching him in the mirror. Twin thunderstorms brew beneath his gaze as he unzips his pants and drops them to the floor. I lick my lips at the sight of his large erection springing from beneath his button up shirt. I shudder at the mischievous tilt of his smile as he hikes up my skirt again, licks his fingers, and then drives them into my slick channel.

"Naughty girl," he teases. "You're already wet. Did you start without me?"

"No." I shake my head.

Before I can say any more, he pulls out his fingers and buries the entire length of his erection in me, pounding against my swollen center like a battering ram. I suck in a sharp breath as he slides back out and then slams into me again and again. The vanity table rattles beneath me, banging against the wall as Andrés digs his fingers into my hips and drives in deeper, harder. And even though I'm still sore and tender from last night, my core weeps with wetness, savoring each achingly erotic thrust. I can feel that point of pleasure swelling inside me like a bubble ready to pop.

When Andrés cries out, burying himself deep inside me, my own release comes swiftly, bucking against his throbbing head as his juices spill inside me. After the wild pounding of my heart slows down to a heavy thud, he slides out and then quickly returns with a towel.

"See what happens when you dress like that?" He playfully swats my ass before wiping between my thighs.

"I'll have to wear it again," I tease, wiggling my hips.

Andrés lifts me and turns me toward him. He's got this look of pure satisfaction in his glazed over expression. Cupping my chin with his fingers, he feathers a soft kiss across my lips. "You make me very happy, mija."

My chest swells to near bursting as I wrap my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss, and for the first time in weeks, I feel as if all those broken pieces of my heart are fusing back together.

***

Andrés

"Wow. This has to be the best steak I've ever eaten."

My fiancé closes her eyes and groans as she bites into her steak. I'm suddenly jealous, and though I want to deny it, I know the reason why. I've been so busy, I haven't been able to cook for her lately, and she's enjoying that steak a little too much. I feel like her taste buds are cheating on me. I could probably make a steak that tastes just as good, if not better. I make a mental note to fix her one when we get home.

"What is in these mushrooms?" She leans forward and feeds me a bite. "Do you think you could make these?"

My mouth is awash in flavor. Marsala, and a mixture of Italian herbs. I nod as I open my mouth for another bite. Wow. If I ran Arturo's catering business, I'd definitely put mushrooms like this on the menu. Then I mentally kick myself in the ass for planning for a career I know I can never have. "I'm sure I can."

"Omigod!" she squeals. "I'll love you forever if you do."

I give her my best sideways glare. "You'd better love me forever, anyway."

She sets down her wine glass, bats long lashes and flashes a coy smile. "You know I will."

God, she looks so beautiful tonight. Her emerald eyes sparkle from the glow of the candlelight, and after spending the day in the snow, the color has returned to her face. But it's her smile that stops my heart, so wide it illuminates her entire face. I've missed that smile.

I've missed everything about her. I've been so absorbed in my job, I haven't made enough of an effort to spend time with her. After this trip, I intend to change that.

I stare down into my glass, at the mixture of rum and Coke and circular ice cubes, and though I don't intend it, I voice my thoughts aloud. "I need to make more time to do the things I love, like cooking and being with you."