More than a Maid (14 page)

Ramon looked in her eyes, unable to read her expression. But at least she didn't look angry. "I was drunk."

"Okay." Marcy nodded but had no apparent reaction. She focused once again on her shoes, and Ramon sighed in relief.

After she settled on five pairs of clearance rack stilettos, he showed her the boots he picked out. She immediately selected a pair of burgundy leather flats. To Ramon, it looked like she hated all of them but chose the lesser of all evils.

After she tried them on and gave her final approval, Ramon insisted on paying for them as well as the rest of her shoes. She protested at first, but he told her to consider it a pre-emptive bonus for the bookkeeping help she offered him, which they would talk about in more detail at dinner.

Marcy shyly said, "Thank you."

Almost an hour later, after Marcy had her way with another clearance rack—in the women's apparel department—they were in the car, heading to their dinner destination.

Marcy smiled at Ramon as he drove. "So, was it
really
that painful, shopping with me?"

Ramon gritted his teeth. Aside from the unexpected strangers who approached him, their time at the mall was actually kind of pleasant. He didn't even mind the few minutes he had to wait while she tried on pants. But he couldn't tell her that. Hell, he could barely admit it to himself. The more time he spent with her, the more attached he became. And he found himself surprisingly unprepared for that attachment. So, he calmly replied, "It was okay."

"Well, that's good. I guess." She stared out the window for a while, then asked, "So, that girl you saw in there. Was it a one-time thing? Or do you regularly get approached in public by random women calling you, 'man whore'?"

"No. No one's ever come up to me like that." But of course, it would happen when he was out with someone he liked, for once.

"Okay." She took a long pause. "Do you get drunk and hook up with women in bars, a lot? Or was that also a one-time thing?"

It was the question Ramon dreaded. For all he knew, maybe God put that girl in that mall tonight for a reason: to punish him. And if it happened tonight, it could happen again. There was no use lying about it. It would probably catch up with him eventually. He swallowed, hard, then said, "It's a pretty regular event for me. And it's the only female contact I usually have."

Marcy glared at him, blinking, until he gave her a glance. Then she said, "You say it like it's okay. Perfectly normal."

Ramon shrugged as he drove. "Two consenting adults, right? I'm always honest about my intentions. I don't promise any of those women the world. I just promise 'em one good night."

Silent, Marcy's eyes were fixed on the road in front of them, her arms folded across her waist.

They drove along in awkward silence for several minutes until she spoke again.

Her voice was sad. "Why do you do it? Do you hate women?"

His eyes widened in surprise. "No! Absolutely not." He heaved out a sad sigh. "I get lonely, okay? I live in that big house by myself, workin' all the damn time. Only talkin' to men. And cows." He gave her a glance. "Once in a while I want a woman's company. All right?"

Marcy made a sound of disgust. "Why not just hire an escort, then?"

He snorted. "Shit. I'm not desperate."

She rolled her eyes. "Then why not try to actually date someone for a change? You know, form a lasting relationship? I'm sure you've had plenty of opportunities, no matter how busy you are."

Ramon nodded. "I used to do that. But you know what? I got tired of the bullshit. Women always wantin' to change me. Or gettin' mad 'cause I said the wrong thing." He chuckled softly as he added, "Or making me go to the mall and stand around like a jackass while they raid the clearance racks."

In a tone thick with sarcasm, Marcy said, "Well, excuse me, then. I didn't know you hated it so much or I never would've suggested it."

He shook his head. In a gentle tone, he said, "I didn't hate it with you."

They came to a red light. Ramon switched gears and brought the car to a halt. He had the sudden urge to touch her, so he put his hand on her thigh. Then he turned to look at her.

She was already giving him an intense stare. Her pretty green eyes held a million questions, but she was silent, easing her hand onto his.

Ramon stayed there, fixated. Lost in her. Staying there until long after the light turned green. He moved when a car horn blared.

Then he slowly peeled his eyes away from her and reached for the gear shift.

They were a minute down the road when Marcy gently asked, "So, where are we going for dinner?"

Ramon wished they were in her bedroom instead of heading to dinner. For a moment he considered pulling over to take advantage of this unspoken connection they had… But logic kicked in. It was more important than ever to continue their plan for the evening. He needed to know if she really hated his world as much as he feared she would.

His stomach twisted with dread. Despite his better judgment, he knew right then he had fallen for her.

And he just knew she was going to break his heart.

"Uh…" Ramon took a deep breath. "It's only a little farther. A family run bar."

"A bar?"

He shrugged. "More like a diner with a bar area. Floyd's Grill."

"Okay." She sounded hesitant.

"Don't worry. I've known these people for a long time."

A few minutes later they pulled into the gravel parking lot of their destination. It was packed with regulars, as Ramon noticed from the vehicles he recognized.

When they stepped out of the car, they heard country music streaming from inside the small building.

Marcy laughed as she headed to the entrance. "I knew you liked this kind of music."

He shook his head and sighed. Being here in this familiar locale made him feel comfortable. "You shouldn't stereotype people. And for the record, I do like country music, occasionally. But the people here at Floyd's like it a whole lot more than I do."

As soon as they walked into the building, all eyes went to Ramon and Marcy. Most of the patrons waved and collectively said, "Hi," to Ramon.

To the left, Marcy spotted a bar, complete with two pool tables and the smallest dance floor she had ever seen. To her right were booths, almost all of them filled with gray-haired couples. Marcy estimated that she and Ramon were easily the youngest people there.

And, surprisingly, Ramon came to life inside that old restaurant, starting with a portly man in a cowboy hat who rose from his booth and approached Ramon with a smile and an extended hand.

"Howdy!" The man said.

Ramon chuckled and shook his hand. "Howdy George. How's the…"

Marcy kept her astonishment in check. Howdy? She had never heard anyone use "howdy" as a casual greeting in her entire life. She listened as Ramon went back and forth with the man for a minute, discussing calf vaccinations and other such ranch-related issues. She quickly deduced he was a fellow rancher and assumed the others in the restaurant were as well, judging by the way their eyes lit up like they wanted to join in the conversation.

The man chuckled and said, "I was gonna invite you to sit here with me and Ruth but I see you got company." He raised a curious brow, and the woman sitting in the booth did the same.

Ramon stammered for a moment then said, "This is Marcy," and proceeded with formal introductions.

When he finished, Ruth asked, "Is she your girlfriend?"

Marcy would have found the question intrusive, but Ruth's tone was sweet, and she had a kind smile. And although Marcy would have loved to call herself his "girlfriend," that title put a new spin on their relationship. It was one thing to go on a date; it was another to call him, "boyfriend."

Ramon and Marcy shared a quick glance, then his eyes darted sheepishly around the room. He stammered momentarily, but finally answered with, "She's staying with me for a while."

George asked, "Is she one o' them mail order brides?" He winked at Marcy. "You gonna turn tail and run home 'cause he don't look like the picture?" He leaned in a little closer and asked, "Are ya Russian? You know, rushin' back home?" Then he pulled a hand to his stomach with a bellowing laugh.

Ruth rolled her eyes and said, "Oh George, stop. You know that's not funny."

Marcy wanted to laugh, but only because the dumb joke broke her tension. She saw Ramon's lips curl slightly as though he found the joke oddly amusing in the same way.

When George stopped laughing, she thought about responding, but Ramon answered for her.

"She's my," he paused for a breath, "maid." His eyes met hers as he said in a gentle tone, "She's my live-in maid for the next few weeks."

George harrumphed, sounding pleased with Ramon's answer. "Well, all righty then."

Ramon put a hand on Marcy's back and gave George and Ruth a casual wave goodbye as the waitress brushed past them.

Ramon turned his attention to her. "Hey Connie."

Connie gave Ramon a playful elbow jab. She looked about the same age as the rest of the clientele. "Just the two of you?" she asked.

"Yes," Ramon said.

Marcy was glad Connie didn't ask any questions as she led them to their booth by the window. She simply handed them menus, told Ramon it was good to see him, and said she'd be back in a minute to take their orders.

Marcy collapsed in her seat, suddenly feeling very out of place.

Ramon picked up the menu and started reading. "The pot roast is good. Chicken fried steak's good. Stay away from the seafood platter…"

Marcy nodded along, unable to focus on his words with all the eyes looking her way. A few people gave her a friendly nod when she made eye contact with them.

Suddenly, Ramon's eyes perked up and he waved at someone who was trying to get his attention. Then he called out, "Hey Santos."

Marcy heard footsteps as Santos approached. When the short, balding man appeared at the table, he gave Marcy a friendly, "Hello," then asked Ramon, "So, how's it goin'?"

Ramon shrugged. "Not half bad. How 'bout you?"

Marcy sensed she was in for another rancher discussion, but Santos asked a question that practically made Ramon turn pale.

"You sure?" Santos asked, his brows narrowed in obvious concern. "You haven't called me to fill up that pond of yours."

Ramon asked, "Was I supposed to?"

"I thought so," Santos said. "Henry called and asked me to send a truck out to your place but I can't legally take orders from a guy who doesn't own the property." He put a hand on Ramon's shoulder. "Now, I
know
you didn't call someone else with that job, did ya?"

Ramon gulped so hard, Marcy saw a lump go down his throat. That's when his tanned face drained a few shades. "Henry called you?"

Santos nodded and withdrew his hand. "Yeah. Couple weeks back."

Ramon looked relieved. His pallor slowly returned to normal. "Oh, okay. Had me worried for a minute. I'll give you a call soon. My brother's about to have a wedding at the house and I need to get it fixed by then, if I can."

"No problem. Just gimme a call." Santos looked over his shoulder at his table, then said, "Sorry, didn't mean to bother you."

Ramon shook his head. "No bother. Talk to you soon."

After Santos left, Ramon picked up his menu and started reading it aloud again.

Marcy interrupted him. "Wait. What's up with you and Henry?"

Ramon glared at her. "Victor told you to ask me about that, didn't he?"

Sighing, Marcy said, "No. And this is the second time you've asked me that and the answer's still the same. I just wondered why you acted so weird with that Santos guy just now. What's the big deal?"

Ramon's eyes locked on hers for a moment, then he set his menu down, folded his hands on the table, and leaned forward. In a voice quiet enough to be drowned out by the din of the restaurant, he said, "It's personal. But since you asked, I'm just plain tired of Henry's bullshit. I've been dealin' with it for years. That's all."

"Okay." She narrowed her eyes at him, confused. "And this also has something to do with those potholes you're getting the ranch hands to fill in before Isaac's birthday party? I heard Victor talking about it the other day…"

"Yes." He nodded. "And the fences. And the landscaping." Grunting, he stared out the window as he said, "Henry put way too much value on that mess. I mean, I realize it's good to keep your house in shape but he went overboard. I keep the important stuff maintained. Enough that I can pass an insurance inspection." He snorted, then his eyes went to Marcy. "None of that stuff matters to me and I never understood why it mattered to Henry. Keep it simple. That's what I say." His eyes rolled. "What's the point of that damn pond anyway? Ducks are stupid. When I feel good and ready I'm gonna have Santos fill it up with dirt instead of water. And instead of mending some of those pretty fences near the house I'm gonna have the boys tear 'em all down. They serve no useful purpose." He shrugged. "No one'll ever miss 'em. Except Henry."

"Okay. So, why the secrecy? Why do you always bring up Victor and act all weird about it?"

Ramon huffed. "He's nosy, that's why. And I
hate
nosy."

Marcy wasn't sure what to believe. She sensed no dishonesty from him, but something didn't add up. It seemed like he believed what he said, but he was still holding something back.

He shrugged. "So? Is that a good enough answer?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." He picked up the menu again.

She held her menu in front of her face and stole a glance over it every few seconds. He was now reading silently, like his mood had turned sad.

And that sadness tugged at Marcy's heartstrings. Her intuition told her his gruffness was a facade for that unhappiness. It explained why he lived the way he did. Why he got lonely enough to pick up strange women in bars, and harbored so much unexplained anger toward Henry. And toward Victor for trying to meddle in his business. There was definitely an underlying sorrow in all of Ramon's actions, and it resonated with her.

A few minutes earlier, when he touched her leg in the car, she imagined herself naked and in bed with him. But now, all she could imagine was throwing her arms around him and giving him comfort… if he wanted it.

Ramon suddenly lowered his menu, his eyebrows lifted. "You all right? You look like something's wrong."

Marcy grinned. "I'm fine. I think I'm gonna have the pot roast."

He nodded. "Good choice." He sighed and said, "You hate it here, don't you?"

"No. It's not my usual type of place but the people seem nice and the food smells good."

A warm smile spread across his face as he looked in her eyes.

She looked back at him, returning his smile. A few seconds later she felt his shoe gently nudging hers under the table. She slipped one foot out of her sandal and slid it against his bare ankle.

He puckered his lips and kissed at her across the table.

She shuddered, her body tingling in every possible way.

The waitress came back moments later to take their order. They were in the restaurant for another hour and a half. When they weren't talking to each other, Ramon spoke to one of the many people he knew. When asked who Marcy was, he hesitated longer each time before half-heartedly muttering, "She's my live-in maid."

After dinner they were in the car with full stomachs, heading back to the ranch.

Ramon said, "Sorry if you were bored stiff in there."

"No, I wasn't bored."

"Well, I wouldn't blame you if you were. I haven't seen a lot of those guys in a while. Don't usually talk so much."

"So, that's really one of your favorite places to eat?"

"Yeah."

"Do you ever go anywhere with a," she cleared her throat, "less geriatric crowd?"

He laughed. "Yeah, but I felt like going there tonight. Thanks for letting me drag you along."

"I didn't feel dragged. It was nice having dinner with you."

In a soft voice, he kept his eyes fixed on the road and said, "Good. I like having you with me."

She waited for him to glance over, but he didn't. "It's certainly been 'get to know Ramon day' for me. And it's been nice."

Ramon blinked a few times, then gave her a quick look before turning his attention back to the road. A few moments later, he took his hand from the gear shift and cupped the inside of her thigh, right above her knee.

Marcy inhaled sharply at the sudden feel of his rough fingers. Her heart pounded like thunder, her thoughts instantly swirling into a fantasy of him ripping her clothes off and ravishing her naked body in the back seat.

He kept his hand there as he drove, only moving it when he had to shift gears. But he didn't look at her. She hoped it was his silent way of showing how he felt. And she knew her feelings were stronger than they should've been. But tonight, she saw a vulnerability she hadn't seen in him before. An openness, even when he was trying to hide. And he didn't even realize it.

She had never known anyone as real as him. He was honest, intense, unrefined… but at the same time, irresistibly sweet.

Marcy took a deep breath and reveled in the tender way his fingers curled into her flesh.

She wasn't ready to call it "love," but she knew her life would never be the same after Ramon Barboza.

* * *

When they arrived at the ranch, Ramon drove past the house and through a field, then came to a stop and unfastened his seatbelt.

Marcy unfastened hers too, her heart thudding with anticipation. Hopefully he would tell her they could skip the tour of the ranch and go to her room. She was just about to tell him so when he turned to her with an impatient look in his eyes that made her melt.

And suddenly Ramon reached forward and wove his fingers into her hair at the base of her scalp, pulling her close, locking his lips against hers.

Marcy heaved against him with her entire body, feeling like she'd waited a million years for this kiss. She instantly lost herself in the warmth of his breath, his lips. His smooth tongue running measured circles around hers.

She threw her arms around his back and under his shirt, grabbing him with all her might.

He moaned into her mouth when he felt her nails against his skin, and his kiss became more aggressive. But a few moments later he pulled away, panting.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing." Shaking his head, Ramon wiped his mouth with his hand and stared out the windshield. "You distract me too much, baby doll." Then he reached for the door handle.

They hopped out of the car and Ramon opened the trunk to get Marcy's new shoes. When he reached into the bag, she was surprised to see him pluck out a pair of white socks, which he handed to her.

"Did you buy these?" she asked. "I didn't see if it you did."

"Yeah." He shrugged. "You don't wanna wear boots with bare feet, do you?"

Marcy took a breath to push down the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. She'd been too swept up in thoughts of him to remember to bring socks, and the fact that he thought of it on his own touched her in a way she didn't expect. Maybe Ramon wasn't the sort of guy to show his feelings in big, sweeping gestures. Maybe he'd show them in the small, unexpected details, catching her off guard at the strangest moments.