Page 7

CHAPTER 7

Kilo

“ T hank you,” I said, smiling at Lucia as she set a bowl of pozole in front of me. “Have you lived in Phoenix long?”

Camila and her mother exchanged glances at my question, but it was Carmen who piped up. “No. We moved here from Idaho.”

My brows shot up. “What brought you here?”

“Well, we lived in New Mexico for my whole life,” she said, buttering a piece of bread, “but then-”

“We needed a change of scenery,” Lucia interrupted with a tight smile. “But…Idaho…was too cold.”

I studied Camila as she turned away to get the pitcher of sweet tea. Her shoulders were tense. Lucia was giving Carmen a warning look. I’d already suspected these women were hiding something, but I didn’t know what. Now I was sure of it. Not that they owed me an explanation. They didn’t know me. But I was hoping to get to know them enough that they’d feel comfortable enough to share with me.

The women sat down and I focused back on Carmen. “Do you like your school?”

She smiled, the spark coming back in her eyes. “I do. I’ve made a lot of friends already.”

I watched them closely as we ate. Carmen was chatting up a storm with me, but the others were quiet, more withdrawn. Though, I did notice that they both watched Carmen like she was the light in their lives as she spoke.

“What about you two?” I asked, once Carmen paused for breath. “Are you making friends?”

Camila looked up at me with a startled expression on her face. I could see the confusion in her eyes as she tried to decipher my meaning.

There’d been no meaning behind my words, but I didn’t want her to be nervous. “Besides me, of course,” I added.

She gave me a half-hearted smile. “I have a friend at work.”

I had to bite back the immediate question that sprang to my mind. Man, or woman? It wasn’t exactly my business. Yet. And I didn’t want her to stop talking. “Where do you work?”

“Oh, just down the road at the grocery store.” She told me the name and I knew which one.

I was going to have to start shopping there. “How about you, Lucia?”

“I work for a cleaning service,” she replied. There was a wariness in her eyes, as though she thought I was going to judge her for that. I wasn’t. It impressed me that they did whatever was necessary for their family. It was clear that Carmen was happy and wanted for nothing.

“I own a local shooting range,” I told Lucia, keeping the conversation flowing. “It was a natural progression for me and my best friend once we got out of the military.” I’d added the last because Lucia had tensed up when I told her about my business.

I stared at the pot of pozole on the stove, wondering if it would be bad manners to ask for more. I’d wolfed the first down so quickly I was left sitting here while they were still eating their own dinners. Camila followed my gaze and without a word took my bowl and went to the stove to refill it. I gave her a sheepish grin when she set it back in front of me. “Thank you.”

“We’re not used to a man’s appetite anymore,” Lucia said with a grin.

“Why’s that?” I asked. I’d been dying to figure out where Camila and Carmen’s father was. It was the wrong question to ask because all three of them fell quiet.

“He’s no longer with us,” Lucia said in a soft voice.

“I’m so sorry.” The statement was ambiguous, but her tone implied that whatever it meant, it caused them pain to think about it. I wasn’t about to ask, though, since the mood at the table had turned so somber.

It only took a few minutes for conversation to start back up and to stay steady until the end of the meal.

“I’ll walk you out,” Camila offered when it was clear that it was time to go.

“Thank you all for sharing with me,” I told them. I followed Camila to the front door. “Sorry if I-”

“It’s okay,” she said, shaking her head. “My dad died a few years ago. We’re not exactly over it.” She gave me a wry smile.

I glanced over my shoulder, then pulled her gently out onto the porch with me and shut the door. “I want to thank you properly for the home cooked meal.” My lips were on hers before she could respond.

All damn day I’d been thinking about her. About kissing her again. My dick kept interrupting the work on the window to remind me of the woman inside the house who I wanted to see. To get to know better.

She let out a soft moan and arched into me, forcing a groan from my own chest. She was soft and sweet, but underneath all that I recognized an iron will and courage.

Pinning her against the side of the house, I let my mouth explore hers, but I kept my hands PG and only used them to cup her cheeks. I didn’t want to scare her away, or piss her off. But she was addictive and I knew I wasn’t going to think of anything else tonight.

She pulled away a bit and I huffed out a breath. “Sorry, you’re just so damn beautiful.”

She stared up at me, her cheeks a rosy pink under the porch lights. “Thank you. I like kissing you,” she added. “I just…”

“It’s too soon,” I finished for her. Using my fingers, I caught her chin, angling her face upward so I could drop a quick kiss on her lips. “I know. Thanks again for dinner. Come to the range Friday at three and we’ll do some shooting. Then we’ll grab dinner afterward.”

She nodded and waited, watching as I walked away from her. I wasn’t sure if she was waiting until I got into my house, or if she just wasn’t ready to go inside and face her family, but either way it made me grin.

I shut my front door, then rubbed my hand over my short hair in agitation. “What the hell are you doing?” I muttered. This wasn’t in the plans. She wasn’t in them, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. She was drawing me in. And it wasn’t even like she was doing it on purpose.

My phone buzzed and I took it out to look at the reminder that we had church in the morning. I’d finished the window not long before dinner started, and that was only because I was taking my sweet ass time so I had a reason to hang around and talk to Camila as much as possible.

I was conflicted. Whenever I was alone I tried to convince myself I should leave her be. But I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And ended up finding any excuse I could to see her. I was damn glad she was agreeing to go out with me. Fucking ecstatic that she’d asked for help with her gun. And I was going to keep finding ways to take up all her time. There didn’t seem to be any other choice.

“Fuck off,” I muttered. Overdrive’s eyes were boring into the side of my face as we sat and waited for the other officers to settle down in the seats around the table the next morning.

“You didn’t answer the door last night.”

“Wasn’t home,” I told him, tossing him a dark look. I knew where he was going with this. He wasn’t reading any of the signs on my face saying I didn’t want to talk about it. Or my verbal warning. Asshole.

“Didn’t answer your phone either.”

“I was busy. Who are you, my mother?”

“No,” he replied, cocking his head to the side. “But I bet Maria would be thrilled to hear that her son has found himself a lady friend-”

“Don’t even think about calling my mother,” I sighed.

Overdrive grinned. “What did she make?”

“My mother?” I asked, confused.

“No. Camila. She had you over for dinner, right?” He leaned his arms on the table. “What did she make?”

“Pozole.”

He groaned. “No shit? How was it?”

“Best fucking pozole I’ve ever had.”

“Oh,” he hooted out with a laugh. “Now I really have something to hold over your head with your mom.” He held out his phone and hit a button. “Say that again?”

“Fuck you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Bro, you’ve gotten two home cooked meals out of her-”

“You ate one,” I reminded him.

“Why are you so fucking bitchy this morning?”

Because I’d barely slept. My damn dick was nearly raw from how many times I’d had a go at it last night. Gorgeous, dark-eyed women were not in my plans. At least not long-term, but my feelings didn’t seem to matter. My body, heart, and mind had rebelled and there wasn’t anything I could seem to do about it. It was making me a little cranky. Or maybe it was the fact that I was here and not finding some reason to visit the grocery store where Camila worked. Who knew at this point? Fuck, I’d become club caterer if it meant I had an excuse to go see her.

Ruck started church, forcing Overdrive to stop asking questions. Thank fuck. I listened as they spoke about the construction of the new apartments, trying to keep my mind focused.

“You bring any of those supplies back?” Flir asked, looking my way.

“A bucket of nails,” I replied.

He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and scribbled something down.

“Window get in alright?” Bolo asked me.

“Who’s window?” Drifter asked.

“Friends’,” I answered, then looked over at Bolo and nodded. “Yeah, it’s good now.”

“Maybe I should take a look. Make sure it’s not going to fall out,” he joked.

“If it does then it just means you’re a shitty teacher,” I shot back with a grin.

He flipped me off.

Ruck put an end to our back and forth. “We’re having a party in a couple weeks. Maybe you should bring your friend.”

That did it. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked over at me. I glared at Ruck.

“What’d I miss?” Relay, our Chaplin, asked with an amused smile. “Who are you bringing?”

“No one,” I muttered. “Not sure she’d be comfortable with that,” I added when Ruck raised an eyebrow.

“Then bring her to the barbeque first,” he offered.

“Barbeque…” Strike said with wide eyes. “Wait, did Kilo get himself an old lady?” Strike was our secretary and wasn’t used to being the last to know shit.

“No,” I answered at the same time as Overdrive said, “Looks like it’s going that way.”

Letting out a humorless laugh, I shook my head. I always knew that whoever the poor fucker was, who brought home an old lady first, was going to have to pave the way. I just never thought that asshole would be me. Not that I was fully on board with making Camila my old lady. We’d get to know one another and see where it went. That was what I kept telling myself. And I wasn’t idiot enough to not realize I was fucking fooling myself. I was heading toward the deep end with a goddamned smile on my face.