offer me a job. If you think I suck, you can always fire me.”
She laughed. “Why not? You are accessible. Willing and eager.” Her robe slipped open a little, revealing another row of pink ribbon. “The position comes with a small salary, accommodations in the bunkhouse and meals with my family,” she added as an afterthought. “Since Cáco will insist on feeding you anyway.”
It sounded perfect to him. Cozy. Homey. An emotional invitation he desperately needed.
“Speaking of meals.” She sniffed the air. “I’ll bet our breakfast is almost ready.”
“Yeah.” The smell of cinnamon and sugar wafted through the room, and he pictured something sweet and doughy in the oven. “When can I start my new job?”
Lourdes righted her robe. “When Cáco agrees to let you out of her sight.”
“So we’re back to that.”
“Yes, we are.” She rose, and the light from the window illuminated her in a soft glow. “I better get dressed before Cáco calls us to the table.”
He watched her leave, thinking how pretty she was. A moment later, he followed his nose to the kitchen, anxious to taste something sweet and sugary, to allow the cinnamon treats to melt in his mouth.
The following evening, Lourdes knocked on Juan’s bedroom door.
“Come in,” he called out.
She entered the room. He was relaxing on the bed with his back braced against the headboard and his knees drawn up. His chest was bare and broad, the lingering bruises on his stomach exposed.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she said, noticing the magazine on his lap.
“Are you kidding? I’m doing whatever I can to keep myself entertained.” He lifted the magazine to show her the cover.
He read one of her subscriptions, a publication geared for women. She stifled a giggle. “Learn anything?”
“Oh, sure. The hottest hairstyles. How to find Mr. Right. Fall makeup, the best and worst new colors.”
“Is that all we had around here for you to read?”
“No. Amy offered me a book about Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”
Lourdes enjoyed the humor in his voice, the boyish smile tilting his lips. She sat on the edge of his bed and placed her shopping bags on the nightstand. “What an education you’re getting.”
“Yeah. The twins took pity on me and handed over their Dr. Seuss collection. And now I’m dying for a plate of green eggs and ham.”
“This is torture for you, isn’t it? Being under Cáco’s lock and key?”
Juan tossed the magazine onto the bed. “She means well.” He motioned to the nightstand. “Looks like you went shopping.”
“Yes.”
“Any reading material in those packages? The latest issue of Sports Illustrated? Or maybe a nice, fresh copy of Playboy? Something a guy can sink his teeth into.”
“Very funny. And Playboy isn’t reading material.”
“It is, too.”
“It is not.” She assessed his flirtatious smile, his waggling eyebrows. He looked downright dastardly, with his dark hair and dark bruises.
Lourdes reached for the bags. “I bought you some clothes. Just a few things.”
“Clothes?” He stared at her. “Why?”
Good grief. “Because man does not live by muscles alone.” She grabbed the hem of his pants. “You only have one pair of jeans and a mended shirt. I think that warrants some new clothes.”
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