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Shivers ran over Maria’s skin. She took another sip of wine. Three sips of wine was certainly not enough to make her feel giddy. Nope. It was Jeff. “I was just thinking”—she cleared her throat again—“about how nice it was that you were there for Little Jeff’s birth. I mean, if Angie had gone to the hospital, only Rafe would have been allowed in. And it should have been you with me for Angie’s birth. It’s almost as if…something divine intervened.”
Jeff looked away. “I really don’t believe in that kind of stuff.”
Of course he wouldn’t, not after all he’d been through in his life. “I understand. I’m just really glad you could be there for Angie and Little Jeff. And for yourself.”
Jeff reached toward her and laid his hand on her forearm. A blaze went through her, as if his touch were fire itself. All these years and nothing had changed. She still responded to his slightest touch.
She gathered her courage and laid her other hand over his. They sat for a moment, touching but not looking at each other, until they both looked up at the same time. Jeff’s dark eyes smoldered.
“Mia,” he said, his voice husky.
She swallowed. “Jeff?”
“Take me upstairs.”
* * *
Thirty-Three Years Earlier
Crazy as shit, to love someone after a couple of days, but he knew it as sure as he knew his damned grandfather had disinherited him.
He loved Maria Gomez. He loved her onyx hair that fell over her shoulders in silky waves. He loved how she got embarrassed when hamburger juice dripped down her chin. He loved how she felt behind him on his motorcycle, how she adorably and shyly placed her hands on his hips and held on to him. He loved how she cared for her sister and chased away the things that went bump in the night. She’d be a wonderful mother. And most of all, he loved how her lips felt against his when he kissed her, how their bodies molded together as though they’d been created for each other.
But she was young, a good three years younger than he, and only eighteen. He’d have to tread carefully not to scare her.
Good thing she didn’t know what he was up to tonight. Because he couldn’t be with her, he’d made arrangements to take care of some business—business she definitely wouldn’t approve of.
He’d take care of it, but this would be the last time. He was going straight.
For the woman he loved.
* * *
Jeff stood over his sleeping brother. Regret washed over him, until he remembered Grandpa’s will. He shook Wayne awake.
“What? What is it?” Wayne’s eyes opened.
“It’s me, you horse’s ass.”
His brother yawned and then sat up in bed. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Just a little information.”
“Get the fuck out of here, Jeff. I need my sleep. Some of us get up early around here to do ranch work.”
“Cry me a goddamned river.”
“I knew I should have had the locks to the house changed. Jesus.”
“Well, you didn’t. And funny thing is, you’re not going to even recall this chat come tomorrow.” He held a cup to his brother’s mouth. “Drink this.”
“Huh?”
“I said drink it.”
“Right. And what if I don’t?”
Jeff pulled the pistol out of the back of his waistband and pointed it at his brother’s forehead. “Then I fucking kill you.”
