Page 15 of Wild Embers
“Do you draw me often?”
Blake rolls her eyes. “Next subject.”
Definitely circling back to this later.
“So…Where have you been?”
“Here and there.” Blake won’t look me in the eyes.
I shake my head. “Nah. You don’t get to be vague with that one.”
She sighs. “New York.”
My eyes widen. “What? What took you there?”
She finally gives me those beautiful brown eyes. Clearly avoiding my question, she asks, “What about you?” Blake sets her elbow on the table and rests her hand on her fist.
I don’t like her evasiveness, but I’ll let her have her privacy for now. She shouldn’t get used to it, though. I want to know everything about this woman.
Intimately.
I tip my hat. “Still running Falling Sky Ranch.”
She nods. “Still love it?”
“Always. I was born and raised in a saddle.”
“Ooo. A true cowboy,” she teases. “My Mama always warned me about cowboys.”
“Hey,no todos somos iguales,” I say with a wink.We’re not all that bad.
Blake makes a face, conveying her doubt teasingly.
I won’t let her brush me off so easily.
“What’s wrong withvaqueros?”
She holds up two fingers. “There are two types. The players and the statues. The players are the ones who promise you the world but only deliver regret and a half-assed orgasm. The statues are the ones who draw you in, but their hearts remain cold and closed. I wonder, Santiago,” She lifts her hand and flicks the brim of my hat, “which type are you?”
Leaning in close, I eye her lips, then look back up at her alluring brown eyes. Lowering my voice, I ask, “You want to find out?”
She opens her mouth to respond, but our connection is interrupted by a brown paper bag dropping on the table in front of us. Peering over my shoulder, I find an unhappy Martha.
“Leave the girl alone, Santiago,” she commands as her eyes glare at Blake’s hand in mine.
“It’s okay, Martha,” Blake interjects. “Santiago was just making sure I feel the Evergreen Falls neighborly love.” Her explanation is said in a playful tone.
“Your food’s ready. Time to go.” Martha grabs the elbow of my shirt and pulls. I follow her direction and stand, even though a small woman like Martha wouldn’t ever be able to make me move.
I’m not a boulder or anything, but I’ve worked on the ranch my whole life. It’s the kind of work that builds strength.
Blake squeezes my hand before she lets go. “Thanks for the company,” she says as she looks me up and down one more time.
“I’ll see you soon,Mi Cielo,” I promise.
Martha shoves the bag of food into my hands and steers me to the exit.
Climbing into my truck, I peer through the large window at the front of the diner and watch Blake and Martha deep in conversation—hopefully, about me.
