More than a Maid (4 page)

"Hey." Showing a sexy smile, he scooted closer to her and placed a hand on her arm. "I didn't say it was a bad thing, did I?"

She shivered at his touch, steeling her voice to sound casual. "It sure didn't sound like a compliment."

He shrugged and pulled away. "Guess it depends on the source. Personally, I have no idea why women are always starvin' themselves. I need somethin' to hold on to." He made a grabbing gesture with his hands. "And if I may be honest, again, I think you're really cute."

"Cute? How old are you? Ten?"

He looked away, laughing, then said, "Okay. Pretty." Voice lowered, he added, "Sexy. You're very sexy to me."

Is he hitting on me, or testing me?

Marcy had a test of her own. It was something she'd seen in a movie recently. "All right." She brought a hand to her hip and sidestepped directly in front of him. "So, if I'm sexy to you, does that mean if I were to take a little trip through your Internet search history, I'd find pictures that look like this?" She gestured down at her body.

Ramon gave her a blank grin. His eyes dropped to her chest, then her hips, then back up to look in her eyes. "Maybe. But I can't know for sure unless you take your clothes off."

Her pulse raced. Biting back her smile, she wondered how far she could take it. But she decided not to give him the satisfaction. At least, not just yet. Tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, she shuffled back to her suitcase. "Maybe some other time when you're not so tired."

Ramon laughed, then leaned back on his elbows. His tone got a bit more serious. "So what's your deal, anyway? You married? Divorced? Single?" He shrugged. "Otherwise attached?"

"Single. Not that it's any of your business."

"So, Victor said you had your own company. What happened? Must've been something bad if you were willing to pick up and move so far away for a whole month."

As she hung another blouse, she gave him a thoughtful look. Maybe as owner of the house, he was within his rights to ask these questions. And she sensed he was genuinely curious. So, as she turned around to hang the blouse in the closet, she gave him an honest answer. "I started my cleaning business a few years ago, after I lost my job. Turns out a lot of other people suddenly had the same business idea." She turned to the suitcase on the bed. "It's too competitive. And to make things worse, this new industrial cleaning company moved to town. Undercut my prices. I didn't stand a chance."

"Yeah." He let out a sympathetic huff. "I get that. What'd you do before you started workin' for yourself?"

Marcy hesitated, confused by his sudden interest, but urged on by the sincerity in his eyes. "I was a bookkeeper for a long time, until that company folded. That was the job I lost a few years ago. Haven't been able to find another one like it."

Ramon yawned, then said, "So, since you already knew how to keep the books, you figured you'd start your own company? Is that what happened?"

"Yeah, something like that." She looked at him. "Why are you asking me all this stuff?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I've lived in this house since I was eight years old and I've always worked at this ranch. Guess I'm kinda curious about the rest of the world."

"Do you wish you'd made some different decisions?"

"Nah. I'm happy. Can't think of anything else I'd rather be doin'. I just have a curious mind, I suppose."

"Did you go to college?"

"Nope. Couldn't stand the thought of it. You?"

"Beauty school."

He nodded slowly. "Ah. That explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Your hair. It's so long and shiny. Like, too perfect or something. Must take a lot of work to get it that way."

"What?" Marcy gave him a disbelieving squint, determined not to show how flattered she truly was. "That's an odd thing to say. All I do is condition, keep it trimmed, take vitamins. It's pretty easy."

"Hmm." He sat up, eyeing her. "So. Haircuts." He flashed a little smile. "Is that a service you offer? You know, along with the housekeeping?"

"Are you asking for a haircut?"

"Maybe. Tell me why you don't do it anymore."

She rolled her eyes as she thought back to those days. "I only lasted a couple years. I used to argue with clients about what looked best. Sometimes the style a lady wants isn't the style a lady needs." Her eyebrows shot up.

Ramon laughed. "Seriously? You mean, you just gave people whatever hair you thought they needed?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes. Especially if they were vague. I'd just lie afterward and say, 'I'm sorry, I thought this was what you wanted.' But I finally quit after this mean old lady slapped me. That was the last straw."

"Someone slapped you? You've gotta be kiddin' me."

"True story. I think she was senile, though. She kept calling me 'Denise.'" Marcy huffed. "I stared at her in the mirror," she pointed at herself as if reenacting, "
Marcy
. My name is
Marcy
." She rolled her eyes and grabbed a pair of pants from her suitcase. "She didn't like her new hair color and then she slapped me and that was that. I packed up my tools and walked out."

Ramon doubled over, laughing hard.

"It's not that funny." Marcy kept her eyes on him, watching until he calmed down.

"I think it is." He grinned. "So, would you cut my hair?"

"Sure. But it looks fine to me."

"It's just long enough to annoy me right now. And I don't have time to go to the barber shop." He snorted. "I was supposed to get it cut last week before Armando's wedding but I didn't."

"Okay. I didn't bring my tools with me but I guess I can find a beauty supply store tomorrow."

Ramon nodded. "All right." Then his lips parted in a massive yawn. "Well, I gotta get some sleep." As he stood, he gave her body a lingering glance, then met her eyes. "If you need me for
anything
, remember, I'm just on the other side of that wall." He pointed behind him.

"I'll definitely remember that." Was that a thinly-veiled sexual advance? And did she want it to be? She held his gaze for a moment, unable to think of a better response.

But then Marcy thought of something she heard him say in the kitchen when they were introduced. She said, "And by the way, thank you for letting me stay in your house. I'm sorry they kept me a secret. For the record, I'd be pissed if I were you."

"I am, a little. But not at you. It wasn't your fault." He shrugged. "Sorry to hear about what happened to your company. I can relate to that. But I'm glad you found a job, however temporary it is. I hope this'll be good for you."

"Yeah. Thanks."

He looked into her eyes like he wanted to say something else, and suddenly extended his hand. "It was nice meeting you."

She took his hand, unprepared for her body's physical reaction to his rough fingers. "Likewise." An odd, sensual quiver started where his skin touched hers, radiating all the way down to her toes.

"I'll be lookin' forward to that haircut." Ramon let go of her hand and calmly left the room.

Marcy waited until she heard his door shut, then she sat on her bed, dumbfounded and wondering what the hell just happened.

Ramon whistled happily to himself when lunchtime came the next day. His pulse quickened, hopeful he'd see Marcy in a few minutes.

Suddenly, he understood why Henry hooked up with Elsa. Also, dare he say it, why Henry hooked up
with Mama. Ranching was a lonely life, but even if he wasn't lonely, it would be difficult to resist a woman like Marcy.

She was so lovely and lively. Vibrant. Soft. Hopefully she'd be okay with a no-strings-attached relationship. He'd love to have her as his little plaything for the next few weeks.

But he surely couldn't offer her more than that.

More than anything, Ramon was determined to keep his attraction a secret lest Patty and everyone else try to insinuate there was more going on.

He'd thought of Marcy practically every minute since he went to her room the previous night. She'd surprised him. So bold. So quick with a comeback.

Mmm. A feisty little thing.

But… shit. Maybe she was a tease. Hell, maybe it was all a trap. Maybe Cara hated him enough to plant Marcy there to see if he'd hit on her to use it as a reason to get Victor to leave…

Nah. That seemed pretty far-fetched. She was flirting with him.

Ramon often used his lunch hour to socialize with the guys in the trailer where they ate, but not today. He was well rested and wanted to see her again with a clear head instead of his usual exhaustion.

He was on the back porch, taking off his dirty boots, when his phone rang.

It was Armando.

Why the hell was he calling from his honeymoon? Surely, it wasn't about Henry.

Ramon answered the phone with a snicker. "
Pendejo
. Four days of marriage. She kick you outta bed already?"

Armando laughed softly. "
Uh, not hardly
."

Ramon let out a quiet groan. "No details, please."

"
Don't worry. You heard from Henry yet?

"Are you out of your mind? You interrupted your honeymoon for that?"

"
I figured he might've called after the wedding to say why he didn't show up.
"

"Well," Ramon lied, "haven't heard from him."

"
It's been how long now?
"

"Three weeks."

"
Should we try to find him?
"

"No. I'm sure he's fine."

"
Are you lying to me?
"

"No."

"
Okay then. If we still haven't heard from him by the time I visit next week, we need to track him down
."

Confused, Ramon said, "Wait. You said, next week? Thought your honeymoon was longer than that."

"
I've had a few business issues come up and Katie's got some family drama goin' on with her parents' divorce. Oh, and Isaac made us promise to come to his birthday party
."

"I hope you weren't plannin' on stayin' in your old room 'cause—"

"
Yeah, I heard you have a new house guest. Patty told me last week
." Armando laughed. "
Oh wait, that was supposed to be a surprise, wasn't it?
"

Ramon seethed. They were
all
in on it. Yeah, well, he'd show 'em. He didn't need anyone playing matchmaker on his behalf. There'd hopefully be a night or two of sweet lovin' in his future… but that was all. "Okay. You go have fun now. It's my lunch break, so…"

"
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell everyone I said hi
."

Ramon hung up and slid his phone into his pocket. He hated lying to his brothers, but it was only for a little while longer.

Standing on the porch, he took off his hat and studied his reflection in the sliding glass door. He took a moment to comb his fingers through his hair, then he opened the door and walked in.

Downstairs, it sounded empty. Ramon felt a twinge of disappointment. But he went upstairs anyway, knowing it was a long shot.

He walked down the hall past her room on his way to his own. The door was wide open and he did a double take, not expecting to see her.

But there Marcy was, folding laundry. "Hey," she said.

Caught in her gaze, he stared into her sparkly green eyes, blinking and reminding himself to be cool. "Hey, yourself. Didn't think anyone was home."

"Oh. Sorry."

"No, it's fine. I didn't mean it like that. There's no one downstairs so I just assumed."

"Well, Tom and Patty are out sightseeing. Victor and Cara had an appointment." She looked him up and down. "Your clothes are so clean. Were you downstairs in your office? I didn't hear you."

"No, I'm workin' outside but I don't always get dirty. It's not like I'm out there ropin' calves or somethin'."

"Oh." She shrugged. "Sorry. I don't know anything about ranches."

"I could show you around some time."

Marcy's nose wrinkled as she reached into the basket for a shirt to fold. "I don't know if it's really my scene." Then her eyes perked up. "Oh! But I'm ready for that haircut whenever you are. Cara and I found a beauty supply store this morning so I'm all set."

"Oh. Already?"

"Uh-huh."

"I'm on my lunch break. Could we do it now?"

"Yeah, but don't you have to eat lunch?"

"I'll just grab somethin' quick. No big deal."

"Oh. Okay, then. I was thinking we could do it in the bathroom. Unless you want me to wash your hair first. Then we'll use the kitchen sink and come back upstairs for the cut."

"Uh… kitchen sink sounds fine."

She nodded. "I'm on my way." She dropped the shirt she was folding and grabbed a bag from the floor.

"Okay. Give me a minute and I'll be right down." Ramon ran to his room, excited by the thought of her dainty little fingers running through his hair. But he had to freshen up first. He went straight to his dresser for deodorant. Briefly, he thought about cologne, but decided it would be too forward.

Next, he took off his jeans and changed into a pair of loose-fitting cotton shorts he sometimes wore to bed. They'd be a lot easier to take off, if necessary.

Ramon looked in the mirror, smelled his shirt, then rushed out to the hall. He almost made it to the stairs when he had a thought:
Fuck it. I'll be obvious
. As he walked back to his room, he lifted his T-shirt over his head, then balled it up and hurled it onto his bed.

And now, he was ready for her.

* * *

Marcy waited in the kitchen, her heart pounding faster by the second. She didn't expect him to jump so fast on the offer of a haircut.

Maybe he was for real last night. Her body had an obvious physical reaction to the thought of fooling around with him. And surely she wouldn't fall for this guy. Such a jackass. He was destined to go through life lonely. It made her a little sad to think about it.

But oh well. Maybe he was happy alone.

That morning, Marcy told Cara she wanted to buy some new tools to cut Isaac's hair. And it wasn't a lie—she would likely be using those same tools on Isaac soon for his regular haircut. But Marcy kept her real reason for the rush shopping trip a secret.

Cara would flip out if she knew Marcy was attracted to Ramon.

Marcy wore a tighter top than she usually wore. A test, to see if he really was attracted to her.

As she heard him walk downstairs, she rearranged her shampoo and towels on the table, waiting until he was a few steps inside the room before she looked up.

And there he was. Shirtless. Lean and perfectly muscled. Wearing only a pair of gray cotton shorts. Eyes burning into hers… so intense…

Ramon casually strolled up to the sink and stopped without breaking eye contact.

She took a long, deep breath. "You changed clothes."

He smirked. "In case we're messy. Didn't want 'em gettin' wet."

Her breath hitched at the obvious sexual connotations. She calmly nodded. "That's smart."

Ramon's eyes fell down to her body. "So? Tell me what you want me to do."

Throw me down on the floor
. "Um… sit here." She tapped the chair. "Let's see if you can lean your head back and reach the sink."

He immediately sat, then tipped his head backwards. "Did I reach it?"

"No. Almost." She shrugged. "You'll have to stand up and bend forward."

"Nah." Ramon eyed the kitchen counter, then moved a mixer and a blender. "This'll work." He hopped up on the counter, almost banging his head against the cabinet above. Then he flashed Marcy a grin and laid down, his knees bent.

She laughed. "I never would've thought you'd fit up there."

"Guess I'm lucky I have this big ole kitchen."

Marcy quickly put a towel under his bare shoulders and moved her bottles to the sink, struggling to focus on the task at hand. She turned on the water to let it warm up, fantasizing about squeezing herself up on that counter with him. A moment later, she sprayed his hair and asked, "Is the temperature okay?"

"Mmm." Eyes closed, he let out a moan like he was in ecstasy, loud enough for her to hear over the running water.

As she wet his hair, she fantasized about sliding her hand down to his bare chest. It practically begged for her touch.

She stopped the water and squirted shampoo into her palms. Then she began massaging his scalp with her fingertips.

"Oh yeah," Ramon said. "That's nice."

Marcy slowed in response to his reaction.

"Mmm. Yeah." He opened his eyes and looked at her. His words came out thick and slow like honey. "You're
so
good at that."

Silently, she gazed into his eyes and pulsed her fingers methodically. She took a quick glance down at his crotch to see if there was a bulge. Unfortunately, his shorts were baggy, and she didn't want him to catch her looking. Maybe she'd have to work a little harder to get him aroused. So, she proceeded to give him a thorough scalp massage as she worked the shampoo and conditioner through his wavy hair.

Ramon closed his eyes and tilted his head in the direction of her fingers.

She asked, "You really like that, huh?"

"Yeah. It's nice to have a sexy woman wash my hair."

His eyes didn't open, so she didn't respond. But she took another glance down at his crotch. He didn't appear excited, at all.

Damn it! Why can't I tell if he's for real?

Finally, Marcy rinsed and toweled him off, anxious to finish. "Okay," she said. "Let's go upstairs."

He immediately hopped off the counter, grabbed a towel, and followed her.

When they arrived at the base of the stairs, she stopped and looked up at him, feeling on display at the idea of walking upstairs in front of him.

But Ramon extended his hand, and with a subtle grin, politely said, "After you."

Marcy gulped and headed on up, feeling his eyes burn into her ass with each step.

In the hallway upstairs, she gestured at the bathroom where she had already placed a chair.

Ramon took a seat, his eyes boring into hers.

Reluctant to cover him from the waist up, she hesitated before handing him the cape. After he took it, she snapped it behind his neck, then picked up her comb and shears.

"How short do you want it?" she asked.

"Whatever you think's best."

"Do you usually wear it much shorter than this?"

"Not much, no."

"Okay. I won't take much off then."

As she combed his hair, Ramon said, "So, tell me again why that lady slapped you that one time? Did she ask for red hair and you gave her brown or something?"

Marcy squinted. "You're still curious about that?"

"Uh-huh."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "It's just interesting. That's all."

"Uh, okay." Marcy thought back to that day as she snipped his hair. "Well, she wanted this silvery gray color but I made her hair a little too white." She sighed. "There was only a few shades' difference."

"She slapped you for
that
?" Ramon turned his head to look at her.

"Keep your head still, please." She carefully repositioned him with her hands. "Yeah. She got out of her chair, grabbed her purse, screamed at me in front of everyone. Then she slapped my face." She patted her cheek. "Right here."

"Did it hurt?"

"It stung for a while. She was a beefy old broad."

Ramon chuckled. "Did you think about slapping her back?"

"I wanted to, sure. But I'm not that stupid. I was gonna scream at her but she called me 'Denise' again and I knew she was out of her mind." She groaned. "That was all I could take of that line of work. I was so freakin' tired of customers thinking they were always right."