More than a Maid (8 page)

Marcy glared up at him as they walked. "Look, she hadn't dated anyone in a long time before Victor. Patty and I were both happy for her when he came along. She'd been through a lot ever since she lost her job and she deserved a little," she paused to think of the right word, "attention."

Ramon stopped in his tracks, his eyes piercing hers. "And you don't?"

A twinge of excitement made her heart race. With a shy smile, she said, "I didn't say that."

Ramon grinned. "Good." He started walking again. "She has no right to make you feel bad. Know that."

They walked along in silence for a few seconds longer until they arrived at Ramon's truck.

"Whoa," Marcy said, marvelling at the large, steel-colored vehicle. She saw his truck yesterday but had only given it a passing glance. Standing directly in front of it made it seem much bigger.

"What?" he asked, reaching up to open the door.

"That's the biggest truck I've ever seen in real life."

Ramon scoffed. "Ain't that big."

"Yes it is. I'd need a ladder to get up there."

"Nah. There's a handle on the door. And some steps," he gestured toward it, "right there." Amused, he studied Marcy's face as she took it all in. "It's not that big, I swear. It just looks that way 'cause I got a lift kit to make the chassis sit up higher."

Her eyebrows knitted together. "Why would anyone do that?"

Ramon laughed. "You really
are
a city girl, aren't you?"

Marcy had no response. She scanned the truck, taking note of the emblem that said, "F-350," and the way Ramon looked so natural standing in front of it.
This is who he is
, she thought. Nothing like his brother. And nothing like any other guy she had ever known.

But he sure was a whole lot of fun.

Ramon sighed. "I gotta get goin'."

Marcy nodded. "Okay."

He raised one brow. "Am I gonna see you tonight at eight?"

A tingle swept through her body. She dipped her chin down, and in a soft voice answered, "Uh-huh."

"Good."

Their eyes locked. For a moment, Marcy thought she saw him move forward like he might kiss her.

But he merely blinked a few times and inhaled a sharp breath, then straightened his posture and reached for the door. "See you tonight."

She lifted her hand in a feeble wave. "Bye."

Ramon nodded and pulled the door open. With his back to her, he remained still for a few moments.

Then he let go of the handle and turned around.

"Hey," he said.

"Yeah?"

Ramon's eyes darted around the massive field behind her. He squinted and looked behind him at the house, paying close attention to the windows. He cleared his throat and stepped forward. "I know we're keepin' it casual but this just feels like the right thing to do."

Then he leaned down and kissed her.

Marcy's chest went weak at the feel of his lips. It was just a tender peck at first, but when her arms flew around him, his lips parted, gently giving way to his tongue.

His hands were around her waist, boosting her up to her toes. Making her wish he would throw her down on the ground to quell the longing he had suddenly created.

But he pulled away, panting.

"Shit," Ramon whispered. "I gotta go."

Marcy tried not to frown as he slipped out of her arms. Neither said another word. She waved and he nodded in return, a numb expression on his face.

She chuckled a little as she watched him jump up into the driver's seat in a swift, natural motion.

He gave her one last, brief nod from the truck before driving off.

Marcy then raced to the porch in the hopes of sailing past the kitchen and up the stairs to take a quick, cold shower.

But she was stopped by Victor and Isaac in the foyer as they headed out.

Marcy swallowed, hard. That kiss had nearly made her forget about her prior humiliation.

Isaac smiled. "Bye Mah-cy."

Victor averted his gaze, as if the moment was just as awkward for him. "Yeah. Uh…"

Marcy took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Is Cara up yet? Have you spoken to her?"

Victor looked in Marcy's eyes with a sense of understanding. "No." He gave her a crooked grin and a light tap on the arm. "Don't worry about last night, all right? Have a good day."

Marcy let out a sigh of relief. "You too."

An hour later, Marcy sat at the dining table across from a sleepy Cara. Patty quickly joined them, plunking down a fresh pot of coffee as she took her seat at the head of the table.

Cara said, "I'm actually in the mood for herbal tea again."

Patty smirked. "Herbal tea? That'll never wake you up." She raised her brow in a knowing expression and put both elbows on the table, leaning forward. "Just admit you're pregnant."

Cara let out a weary sigh, shaking her head. "Oh, Mom."

"You don't fool me," Patty said. "You're sleeping too much. You've stopped drinking coffee in the morning. And we're sitting here to talk about a wedding that's less than four weeks away?" She nodded and gave Cara's hand a quick tap. "You're pregnant." Then Patty stood and went to the kitchen. "I'll go make some tea."

As soon as Patty's back turned, Marcy widened her eyes in a pleading display at her best friend. She silently mouthed, "She knows! Tell her!"

Cara set her jaw firmly and drew her fingers across her throat in a straight line. Her silent response was, "Shut up!" Then louder, calling to Patty, she said, "Mom, I think I'd rather have orange juice instead."

Marcy rolled her eyes and looked down at her notes. Their mission today was to go over their individual duties pertaining to the wedding. And Marcy was already growing frustrated with her best friend's reluctance to tell her mother about her pregnancy. On one hand, she understood. Patty's exuberance would probably only stress Cara out even more, which wouldn't be healthy for the pregnancy. But Patty's incessant questions came with their own stress. Marcy practically considered the woman to be her second mother, and she hated lying to her.

Patty quickly returned from the kitchen with a glass of juice and set it in front of Cara. Then she took her seat and put on her reading glasses, immediately lifting her notebook. "The first order of business: those additional guests I'd like to invite." She handed her notes to Cara.

Cara's expression changed from confused to startled to frustrated as she scanned the list. "I've never heard of these people."

"Yes you have," Patty said. "You met a few of them at
my
wedding. It's mostly Tom's cousins and other extended family."

Cara smirked. "You seriously want me to invite Tom's extended family? We're trying to keep it small."

Nodding, Patty said, "Yeah.
Too
small. You're planning a beautiful day, and for what? Most of our relatives have already said they can't make it. I figured it couldn't hurt to add a few people."

Cara said, "It doesn't matter to me if no one shows up, at all. I'd rather not get married in front of a group of strangers." She grimaced as she read a few random names aloud. "Ernie and Leona Lesko? Who the heck are they?"

Patty gasped. "You met them at our wedding! It's Tom's cousin and his wife. They live in Montana."

Cara read the next line. "Tyler and Susanna Campbell? More strangers?"

"I told you all about them," Patty said. "It's Tom's cousin Ernie's stepson and his new wife. You remember, that wedding Tom and I attended in Montana a few months ago? They're such nice people." Then Patty waggled her eyebrows and lowered her voice, leaning forward as though she was telling Cara a secret. "She was a little bit pregnant at her wedding, too. Had the cutest little baby bump, and—"

"Mom!" Cara's eyes showed her fury. "I'm tired of all this baby talk." She handed Patty's notebook back to her. "And we are not inviting these people. Tom's cousin's stepson's," Cara paused for a cynical groan, "daughter's half brother's… whoever? No. I'm sorry, but no."

Patty huffed. "Fine. I'm just the mother of the bride. My only child is finally getting married and I don't have the right to…"

Marcy tapped her pen against the table as she tuned out the bickering. At least it was a distraction from her own worry—wondering if Cara already knew about her sleeping with Ramon. So far, she hadn't said anything, but that could just mean she was too upset to talk about it. Cara had been moody the past few days, which Marcy chalked up to pregnancy hormones. She warned herself not to get angry, no matter how emotional Cara might be.

But maybe Cara wouldn't be upset? Marcy nodded to herself. Sure, it was possible. But even if she was, it didn't mean she was going to change anything.

Marcy was deep in thought, when she felt a tap on her arm.

It was Patty, asking, "You can come with us this afternoon, right?"

"Huh?" Marcy asked. "Go where?"

Cara looked at her phone, double-checking a text message. "To see the wedding planner. She can get us a cake tasting appointment this afternoon."

"Yes," Patty said. "I've decided to let someone else make the cake so I can focus my attention on being the mother of the bride." She gave Marcy a silly smile. "You can make it to the tasting today, can't you? That is, unless," she attempted to roll her R, "
Señor
Rrraamon has a special project for you. Maybe he's coming home early today, hmm?"

Marcy inhaled sharply, blinking as her eyes went frantically between Patty and Cara. "Uh… no? Why would he…?"

Patty beamed. "It's okay, I think it's cute."

Cara's brows knitted together. "Think
what's
cute?"

Before Marcy could protest, Patty said to Cara, "Ramon and Marcy. Last night." She smirked. "You know?"

"What?" Cara's jaw dropped as she glared at Marcy.

"Oh geez, Patty." Marcy whined, annoyed that she would have to endure Cara's moody, pregnant judgment today. "Did you
really
have to do that?"

Patty shrugged. "I thought she knew."

"Obviously not!" Cara said. "Is it as bad as I think? Did you sleep with him?"

Marcy set her lips in a defiant pout, remembering Ramon's advice about Cara from that morning. "So what if I did? Are you calling me a slut?" She slowed her words as she repeated them. "Are
you
calling
me
," she pulled her hand to her chest, "a slut?"

Cara's eyes showed a hint of familiarity, her tone icy. "That was," she gave her mother a quick, shy glance, "different. And you know it."

Shaking her head, Marcy replied, "It wasn't
that
different."

Patty raised a brow at Cara. "She's right, you know. How long did you know Victor?"

Cara gasped. "Mom!"

Snorting, Patty said, "Oh, come on. Like I didn't know what was going on with you and Victor all along. A mother always knows. Besides, this is better. Victor was a stranger to all of us, but at least we can vouch for Ramon by now."

"Vouch for Ramon?" Cara asked. "Really?"

"Yes," Patty said, firmly. "He's a nice boy. Sure, he can be a little rough around the edges, but—"

Cara groaned. "Rough around the edges? How many times have I heard that lately? Don't make excuses for him, Mom. He's an ass."

"Cara!" Patty said.

Nodding, Cara said, "It's true. If I knew just how 'rough around the edges' he was I never would've agreed to stay down here for so long."

"Well, why did you then?" Marcy asked. "I remember months ago, the day after you met Ramon. You told me all about Victor's hot, single brother and even said something about fixing us up."

"Well, I was obviously wearing rose-colored glasses that night," Cara said. "A side effect of starting a brand new relationship with my boss. You know what I remember
now
? Ramon being a jerk. He asked me about Isaac's father within minutes of meeting me. He tried to put Victor on the spot by asking if we were dating. And he went on and on, telling me every embarrassing story he could from their childhood."

Patty shared a look with Marcy, then said to Cara, "That's all normal. That's what little brothers do to their big brothers, no matter how old they get. And as far as Isaac's father, well, you probably get that question from a lot of people, don't you?"

Cara rolled her eyes. "It's not what he says. It's how he says it. He has no filter."

Patty nodded. "He has a filter. He just doesn't always use it."

Cara squinted at Patty. "Did you get that from Armando? He told me the same thing recently." Cara sighed. "And Ramon was
so
rude to Katie until just last week before the wedding."

Marcy said, "If he's that bad, why do you let Isaac hang around him?"

"Because Isaac threw a fit when I tried to put my foot down," Cara said. "Victor had a talk with Ramon and told him to mind his manners around him. And I try to eavesdrop on 'em when I can." She looked away. "For whatever reason, Ramon seems different around Isaac. Nicer or something."

"Look, I agree, he can be a jerk," Marcy said. "I've seen it first hand. But it's not like I'm gonna marry the guy. It's just… fun. Casual fun between two consenting adults. Nothing more."

Patty held her coffee mug with both hands as she took a slurp, then looked over the mug at Marcy and softly asked, "So, what was it like?"

Cara gasped. "Mom!"

Patty shrugged and placed her mug on the table. "What? I'm curious."

"It's creepy to hear you ask about it," Cara said.

Patty rolled her eyes. "Oh please." She looked at Marcy. "I'll bet he was good, wasn't he?"

"Great," Cara said, "My mom asking about my soon-to-be brother-in-law's sexual prowess…"

Patty ignored her, widening her eyes at Marcy. "Hmm?"

Under her breath, Marcy muttered, "Oh boy," and looked down at the table. In a weak voice, she said, "He was amazing."

"Ha!" Patty clapped her hands. "I knew it! I just knew it." She let out a wistful sigh. "A guy like him. Such a brute. They're usually quite vigorous."

Cara kept her groan of annoyance to herself, knowing her opposition to this conversation would have no impact.

Marcy smirked. "Yeah, well. Maybe It's because I haven't been with anyone in so long I forgot what it felt like." Then she winced, thinking about her ex-boyfriend, Andrew. "No. Ramon was
that
good."

Patty giggled. "Maybe soon we can have a girls' night, drink a little wine. You can share some details." She shot Cara a sideways glance. "Of course, someone won't be joining us because she doesn't think I've noticed she suddenly stopped drinking wine—"

"I can't take this anymore." Cara gritted her teeth and stared up at the ceiling, uttering a sound of frustration. Then she grimaced at Patty. "Fine. I'm pregnant. You happy now?"

Patty brought her hands to her mouth in a loud gasp and slowly rose from her seat. Then she threw her hands up in the air and lunged forward, hugging her daughter. "I can't believe it! I'm gonna be a grandmother again!"

As she returned Patty's hug, Cara said, "What? But you'd already figured it out."

Patty let go of Cara and sank down into her chair. "No, it was all speculation." She turned to Marcy. "You already knew, didn't you?"

Cara answered on Marcy's behalf. "We told her a couple days ago." She grabbed her mother's arm. "Please don't tell Isaac. If all goes well, I'll be ten weeks pregnant when we get married. He already asks so many questions and we don't want—"

Patty took Cara's hand. "I know, hon. He'll get confused. I promise, I won't say a word." She chuckled. "Now, someday after he's old enough to do the math I'm sure he'll figure it out for himself. And if he comes to me with questions, I'll send him right back to you."

Cara nodded. "That's fine. But for now, please be careful."

With an assuring nod, Patty said, "Trust me. I won't say a word."

Cara focused on Marcy. "And don't tell Ramon, either. He could tell Isaac."

"Gotcha." Marcy nodded, sensing it was a good time to end this conversation. "Now, about that wedding planner. This afternoon, you said?"

* * *

Marcy, Marcy, Marcy…

Every single one of Ramon's thoughts led to Marcy.

He didn't know it was possible to think about her more than he thought about her yesterday, but he was dead wrong. Since last night there were a thousand mental images of that sexy woman running through his brain. Some of them real, some of them fantasy. But they all swirled together in a continual loop that threatened to drive him crazy with lust. Or, at the very least, keep him from getting any work done today.

As Ramon barreled down the road, he snickered to himself. He knew the cure for this disease.

Give in and get it out of his system. Fighting would only make it worse. Surely he would have his fill of her long before her four weeks ended.

But until then… Maybe she was his payback for working so hard. A scrumptious little woman, right there on the other side of his wall, with no strings attached.

Mmm… four delicious weeks of Marcy. It sounded like Heaven.

The only problem was, if she truly was as good at bookkeeping as she claimed to be, he was tempted to let her help him.

But how could he do anything around her except give in to his ever-present urge to rip her clothes off?