One of the Guys Page 12

  Nervous but excited, Ronnie bounced anxiously in the entryway, waiting for her father to descend the stairs. Miss Loretta liked him well enough, but he could be rather abrasive, and she wanted to inspect his clothing and give him a few pointers before he left.

  Ezekiel finally came down the stairs in a light blue shirt and colorful tie, over which he wore a dark jacket and dark slacks. He looked very dashing.

  When his feet hit the hardwood floor, Ezekiel smoothed a hand down his tie. “How do I look?”

  Ronnie made a big show of doing a full inspection. She circled him and checked out the shiny shoes and his newly cut hair.

  “Not bad,” she said, placing her hands on her hips.

  “You think I don’t know how to impress a lady?”

  “Clearly you do.” She smiled fondly at him. “Enjoy yourself, okay?”

  “I plan to.”

  “And be nice.”

  “I know how to be nice, nugget.”

  His eyes were focused on a point on the wall behind her, and he continued to smooth a hand down his tie. He was so deep in thought, she was certain he didn’t even know he was doing it.

  “I need a new bathrobe,” he said, his voice quivering a little.

  Her chest tightened. This was a big step for her father. “Okay.”

  His eyes focused on her face. “We can put the old one in a box. I don’t want to throw it away. We should put it in storage or something.”

  Ronnie nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

  Ezekiel’s hand dropped to his side.

  Ronnie kissed his cheek, leaving her mouth pressed to his skin for a long time. “It’s okay, Daddy.”

  “Yeah.”

  The dinner date was at five, so it was still light out, and she stood in the doorway and watched him get in the car. “Call me if you’re going to stay out all night so I don’t worry,” she said.

  Her father glared at her out the window, and Ronnie laughed so hard her stomach hurt. Ezekiel pulled into Miss Loretta’s driveway and walked to the front door. He rang the bell and waited.

  Miss Loretta came out in a curly red wig—fuller and thicker than the others Ronnie had seen her wear before.

  “Go ahead, Miss Loretta,” she murmured.

  Her father took the neighbor by the arm and escorted her to the car. After she was seated, he walked around to the driver’s side and paused. He lifted a hand at Ronnie, and she waved.

  So many years had passed since her father dated, and for that brief moment, she felt like a parent seeing her child off to the prom or their first date.

  Seconds later, they pulled away.

  One Friday evening, rather than go out, Ronnie and Diego stayed at his place binge-watching episodes of Battle Creek, a show starring Josh Duhamel that should never have been cancelled, as far as Ronnie was concerned.

  Two half-eaten extra-large boxes of pizza lay open on the coffee table, and Ronnie had a leg draped over Diego’s thigh. Bonkers lounged atop the armrest of the sofa, eyes closed, purring contentedly at Diego’s continuous petting and ear scratches. He’d once explained to Ronnie that Bonkers possessed a mean streak. If he didn’t shower her with attention when she demanded it, she shredded the toilet tissue in the bathroom.

  Ronnie wore a pair of drawstring shorts under one of Diego’s white sleeveless undershirts that she’d grown quite fond of for their roominess and scent of him.

  He flung his arm around her shoulder and she snuggled closer.

  “How did the date with Miss Loretta go?” he asked.

  “Excellent. Daddy and Miss Loretta spend even more time together now, and they’re planning a senior trip with the church. Outside of the volunteer work he does, I’ve never seen him so active.”

  “I’m a little jealous,” Diego said darkly.

  Ronnie giggled. “Your bromance is going to have to cool down for a while. I was starting to feel a little insecure, that maybe you only came to the house to see him and not me.”

  Diego and her father had become close. On Sundays, the three watched sports and Ezekiel taught Diego how to grill, going so far as to share the recipe for his secret rub.

  “Unless she plans to work with him in the yard, I don’t have anything to worry about,” Diego said.

  He helped Ezekiel work in the yard and did odd jobs around the house. Diego loved to garden, having a small vegetable and herb garden that produced hearty tomatoes. He helped Ezekiel with his own garden, and in the front of the house, they’d planted flowers. The S-shaped design Diego created rivaled their professor-neighbor’s flowerbeds. Both Diego and Ezekiel spent a lot of time in the yard, pruning bushes and cutting back hedges—work Ronnie had no desire to do.

  On more than one occasion she’d found the duo sitting on the back patio, Diego with his chair tipped back and both of them sipping lemonade or iced tea. They discussed politics, music, women, and any topic that came to mind. Two men just enjoying each other’s company. During those moments, she left them alone so they could have the time to themselves.

  She recognized the situation for what it was. Ezekiel had become a father figure. An older male figure Diego could look up to and spend time with—an experience missing from his childhood.

  “Have you decided if you’ll attend Daddy’s dinner party?”

  Sumpter Technical College had arranged a special dinner for Ezekiel, a thank you for the hours he’d spent giving the students a real-world view of being a mechanic. His no-nonsense straight talk, as well as the wealth of knowledge he provided, was well received not only by the students, but by the teachers. The dinner happened to be the same night as the Anniversary, the day Diego’s daughter passed away.

  “I think it’ll be good for you to do something, instead of staying home by yourself,” Ronnie said lightly.

  She didn’t want to push too hard. Normally he spent the Anniversary alone, but she’d suggested the night out could help keep his mind off the tragedy of losing his daughter.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

  “And…?”

  He looked at her. “You’re right. There’s absolutely no reason why I should stay home by myself. And it’s nice what they’re doing for your father.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Diego nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “I don’t think the pain will ever go away, but I don’t want to stay in that place anymore. I want to move past it, and participating in normal activities is a good way to do that.”

  People grieved differently, and Diego had spent two years consumed with grief after his daughter died. To see him taking a step toward acceptance, without guilt or regret, warmed her heart.

  Two episodes of Battle Creek later, Ronnie yawned and stretched. “I’m hungry again and I don’t want any more pizza. Let’s go out to eat. I want something hearty. You feel like steak?”

  “Let me answer you this way—do Cubans do it better?”

  “Well, I really don’t know—” Her tart reply ended on a squeal when he snatched her onto his lap and held her tight so he could tickle her relentlessly. She hated the fact that she was ticklish, and he mercilessly punished her whenever he thought she was acting up.

  “Stop! Stop!” Ronnie gasped. She wound up face down in the sofa with her hands behind her back and Diego’s fingers poking her waistline.

  “Do Cubans do it better?” he asked behind her.

  “Yes! The best,” she choked out, gasping and laughing at the same time.

  He let her go and pulled her onto his lap. Ronnie pouted, swiping tears from her eyes. He just gave her one of his wicked smiles and nuzzled her neck. As usual, delicious tingles sprinkled along her neck and shoulders, making her small breasts feel heavy and full.

  Goodness, this man drove her crazy. He cupped the back of her head and nipped at her jaw with his teeth and lips.

  “I hate you so much,” she said, angling her neck so he could drop more kisses with ease.

  “But I love you,” he whispered.

  He’d said
the words lightly, but they both stopped moving. There was nothing light about using that word. It may very well be the most powerful word in the world—in the universe. A word that at the same time it threatened weakness, offered strength. Broke hearts and mended them.

  “Where do you want to go eat?” he asked, as though he hadn’t dropped a bomb in the middle of their conversation.

  “There’s a Longhorn nearby,” Ronnie responded with a saucy smile, following suit.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  She wiggled from his lap. “Let me run to the bathroom and then we can leave.”

  Halfway to the bathroom, she doubled back and leaned over the back of the sofa and dropped a soft kiss to Diego’s cheek. He looked up in surprise.

  “I love you, too,” she said, and scurried off. But not before she saw the way his green eyes lit up.

  Chapter 21

  Diego straightened the blue tie on his three-piece suit. In a few minutes, he needed to leave to meet Ronnie and her father for dinner at Hearty Kitchen, the restaurant the college booked to celebrate Ezekiel and his contributions.

  As he checked his appearance for the last time in the mirror, the doorbell rang.

  Frowning because he wasn’t expecting anyone, Diego went to the door and inhaled a breath of shock when he saw Loisa standing there. Or rather a fragment of Loisa, because she clearly wasn’t herself. She tottered on the black heels and braced both hands against the doorjamb. Looking up at him with both eyes almost closed, so that it was nigh on impossible that she could even see him, she said, “Hola, Diego.” The words came out slurred.

  Mierda. She was drunk.

  A taxi backed out of his driveway and Loisa pushed past him, stumbling into the house and collapsing into a sprawl on the sofa.

  He shut the door. She shouldn’t be here. They’d had a long talk and he explained the situation—that he was in a committed relationship and she couldn’t come and stay with him while she looked for an apartment.

  He ran a hand over the back of his head, thinking hard about how to handle the situation. Dinner with Ronnie and Ezekiel now seemed like an impossibility.

  “I know, I know. I shouldn’t be here. You told me not to come, but I couldn’t let you be alone tonight. It’s the Anniversary. I had to come.”

  Diego walked over to the sofa and looked down at her. Bonkers, catnapping in the corner on her pillow, purred with one eye open, as if Loisa had disturbed her sleep.

  “I wasn’t going to be alone. I had plans.”

  “With who?” She sobered a little, sitting up with a wrinkled brow, hurt in her eyes.

  “The woman I told you about.” Not that he needed to explain anything to her.

  “Does she know how important tonight is?” Loisa asked.

  “Yes, and that’s why I planned to spend the evening with her.”

  “You said you always spend the Anniversary alone.” Accusation filled her voice, and she pouted.

  Diego dropped to his haunches. She looked like a mess. Her clothes were in disarray, and a red stain colored the white blouse she wore half tucked into her skirt.

  She was hurting, and she’d come to the one person she knew would understand the pain. Even though he hadn’t planned on spending any time with her tonight, he couldn’t turn her away. Certainly not in the state she was in.

  “I normally do, but we can spend the Anniversary together tonight. If you want.”

  “I do want,” she said, breathing the pungent scent of liquor into his face. “And you know what else I want?”

  She bit her bottom lip, and Diego hesitated to respond. The look in Loisa’s eyes unnerved him.

  “I want another baby, Diego. I want another baby—maybe a boy this time. Don’t you want another baby?” She released the top button of her blouse.

  He held her hand to stop her from undressing. “Loisa, you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “I do know what I’m doing.” She leaned closer, trying to be seductive, and almost fell over onto him. He clutched her shoulders and settled her back onto the sofa. She closed her eyes, face wrinkled into a grimace. “I want a baby,” she whispered. “I messed up. I want to make it up to you.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and seeing her in such distress twisted his insides.

  This was the woman he’d loved. The woman he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with, and she was still suffering and torturing herself over an event neither of them could have foreseen or prevented.

  “It was an accident. I don’t blame you,” he said quietly. He couldn’t argue that he’d blamed her at one time, but no more.

  She opened eyes heavy with tears. “You left me. You stopped loving me because of what I did.”

  “I don’t blame you anymore,” Diego said quietly.

  “Do you forgive me?” She grabbed his shoulders and fell into him, knocking them both to the ground. He lay on the floor with her on top of him, her quiet sobs tearing into his conscience.

  “I forgave you a long time ago.” He cupped the back of her head and stroked her hair. “Now you have to forgive yourself.”

  She sniffled. “I’m sorry I cheated. You needed me.”

  Diego stared up at the ceiling. “You needed me, too, and I wasn’t there. We both screwed up, Loisa.”

  “Maybe we could start over.” She lifted her head, dark streaks on her cheeks where her eye makeup mixed with the tears. Her eyes pleaded with him for another chance, but he couldn’t lie or give her false hope.

  “It’s too late.”

  Her bottom lip quivered. “Don’t you want another baby? Let me do that for you, Diego.”

  Diego brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. “Not right now.”

  She shook from the force of her tears. Fresh streaks replaced the ones he’d just removed. “I wish…” She dropped her head to his chest. “I never loved him, you know. I was just…”

  “I know.”

  He rubbed her back. She had needed Diego, and he hadn’t been available—physically or mentally. He was as much to blame for the dissolution of their relationship as she. He’d sought comfort in a bottle. She’d sought comfort in the arms of another man.

  Diego lifted off the floor with her in his arms and took her into his bedroom. He gently placed her on the bed and removed her shoes. He covered her, and when he moved to leave the room, she lifted a hand toward him.

  “You’re not leaving me, are you?” she asked, in a pitifully feeble voice.

  “I have to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.”

  Diego closed the door quietly behind him and went back into the living room. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure Loisa didn’t follow, he paced for a few minutes. Finally, he dialed Ronnie’s number.

  He hated to bail on her with such short notice, but he couldn’t leave Loisa alone in this state.

  Ronnie answered on the third ring. “Hi, I’m so glad you called. Daddy’s running late, being a diva or something. I have no idea what’s going on. We’ll be late getting to the restaurant.”

  “Actually, that’s why I called.” Diego ran a hand through his hair. “I won’t be able to make the dinner after all.”

  “What? Why not?”

  He paused, debating whether or not to tell her about Loisa. “Something’s come up. Something I need to handle.” His relationship with her was strong, but even he knew it was a bad idea to tell your current girlfriend that your ex was sleeping in your bed. No matter how he tried to spin the story, it would sound bad, and he didn’t want to disrupt Ronnie’s good mood right before her father’s event.

  “Can I help?” Ronnie asked.

  He heard the concern in her voice. He didn’t want her to worry. “I’m fine. This is just something I need to handle, something that’s come up unexpectedly. But I’ll call you tomorrow and you can tell me all about tonight.”

  “Well…if you’re sure.”

  “Yes. I—”

  He heard the bedroom door open, and when he turne
d around, Loisa stood looking at him. Her face was dry, but she’d let down her hair but, most disturbing of all, removed her skirt and blouse. She stood half-naked in his apartment, and he was fairly certain if he didn’t move quickly, she’d be completely naked in a matter of seconds.

  “I’ll explain everything tomorrow, okay?”

  “Oh. Okay, well have a good—”

  Diego quickly hung up.

  “Loisa, what are you doing?”

  “I threw up on my clothes and don’t have anything else to wear.”

  “I’ll give you something to put on.” He stood still, almost afraid to move because a part of him worried she’d pounce the minute he made any movement.

  “One last time, Diego? Before you cut me off completely. Because I know it’s coming.” She appeared to have sobered a little while lying back there alone. Maybe throwing up helped.

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  She reached behind her and unhooked her bra. It fell to her feet. “Are you sure?”

  Diego closed his eyes and bolstered his courage. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 22

  “Ezekiel Taylor, hurry up or I’m leaving without you!” Ronnie yelled up the stairs.

  “You can’t leave without me. I’m the guest of honor!” her father hollered back.

  The strange cancellation conversation she’d just had with Diego gnawed at Ronnie. She understood why Miss Loretta couldn’t make the event. She was out of town. But Diego’s explanation didn’t make sense.

  Something’s come up. What did that even mean? They spent so much time together that she’d developed a good sense of his moods, and something was definitely off. He didn’t sound like himself at all, and he’d basically hung up on her, anxious to get off the phone.

  She chewed on her bottom lip. She couldn’t worry about that right now. The dinner with her father took precedence, and she’d check on Diego later.