Untamed Hearts 1: The Viper (6 page)

Man with unusual snake tattoo who “ran” into me on New Year’s Eve in Garnet—w4m

The snake on your right forearm is purple and black, with several red ink drops decorating its coiled body. The tattoo is likely a work in progress as the rest of the ink drop scales were not filled in.

If this is you, please message me. You were so kind to me that night, and the conversation we had changed me for the better. Your courageous actions taught me to be a braver woman, and I would love to have one more chance to talk to you and thank you.

Also, you gave me something of yours. Please describe it, and I will gladly arrange returning it to you.

He was silent after he finished reading, wishing now he hadn’t let Mia be the one to help him find it. He could feel her gaze on him, and it left him more than a little uncomfortable. His breath was hitched somewhere in his chest. He cleared his throat and pushed aside the rush of lust that surged through him from seeing right there in black-and-white that something about that night had stuck with Katie as much as it had stayed with him. It felt like a small stroke of luck when he had been dealing with nothing but negativity for a while now.

He knew instinctively that this connection was dangerous for both of them. Chuito should have never told him about it, because Marcos was feeling more than a little rash and reckless since losing his job.

“Why would she mention your Los Corredores tattoo in a public ad? Isn’t that like putting a target on your back?” Mia asked.

“She mentioned your ink?” Chuito choked. “Read it to me.”

Marcos read it to him, still feeling self-conscious with Mia standing there listening. When he was done, Chuito cursed and then said, “What the fuck did you say that night?”

“Nothing.” Marcos couldn’t figure it out either, though he was still secretly riding high over it. He wasn’t going to let Chuito know that. Or Mia, so he just shrugged. “I called 911. I waited for the cops to get there. I didn’t do anything.”

Mia smiled, though her gaze was still sharp and cunning in a way that made Marcos’s skin crawl as she asked, “Are you going to write her back?”

“Hell, no.” Marcos snorted, trying to mentally convince himself of it for Katie’s sake if nothing else. “I shouldn’t even be looking at it, let alone responding to it.”

“It’s not illegal to have a tattoo.”

Mia didn’t seem as concerned, but she also hadn’t spent most of her life being dogged by law enforcement either. He should be mad at Katie for it, but he wasn’t. She couldn’t know what posting about the ink meant. She was completely naive to Marcos’s reality, and that was all the more reason to forget the post and go back to drinking away the pain his life was always inflicting on him.

He wanted to read more, to see if Katie had posted anything else, but he was very aware of where he was and who was watching him.

“Whatever,” he said, his gaze on Mia as he forced a grin. “You wanna finish that dance?”

Mia’s smile was wide and pleased. “Sure.” She flipped her hair, looking triumphant.

“You’re just gonna ignore it?” Chuito huffed. “And let me keep dealing with your issue? What the fuck, Marc?”

“I’ll call you later.” Marcos clicked the button on his earphones to end the call and then tilted his head back toward where others were dancing under the stars. “Come on, chica.”

He let Mia lead the way, waiting until her back was turned to pull his phone out of his pocket and text Chuito before his cousin got pissed and started calling back.

No worries, bro. I’ll take care of it.

* * * *

Marcos managed to slip out of Mia’s clutches with the excuse that he was far too drunk to give her the night she deserved. Fortunately for him, Mia was the type of woman who wanted her men at 100 percent when providing “bodywork.”

So Marcos ended up on a couch in the warehouse once the party had wound down. He lay there in the early morning hours, reading through the other messages Katie had posted in Missed Connections. There were dozens and dozens of them, and no amount of rum and coke could pull his eyes shut now that he knew where to find them.

They all had the same tagline, but the messages themselves varied drastically. Some were to the point and professional, but others were intimate and vulnerable. Marcos reread one in particular over and over again, feeling himself fall under Katie’s spell even if everything in him knew it was a mistake.

I’ve thought of you every day since the accident, but tonight I dreamed of you for the first time. I was so disappointed when I woke up that I decided to write you another note, even if it is the middle of the night, and you’ll probably never see it anyway. In my dream, we were on the beach in Miami. We were both happy, and there wasn’t a stroke of bad luck in sight for either of us. I told you I had never seen the ocean. You laughed, and it was such a nice sound. Now I am lying here wondering if you laugh a lot in a real life or if your days stretch on like mine do, with so little to smile about.

Maybe that’s why I can’t give up hoping that one day we’ll talk again. I can’t stop thinking that maybe two negatives might equal a positive. That together, even something as terrible as a car accident can be beautiful.

What do you think?

It was a nice theory, if not completely naive. Marcos tried to imagine never seeing the ocean and couldn’t even fathom not spending at least one day in the sand, listening to the surf and feeling the sun on his back. Then he found himself fantasizing about taking Katie to Puerto Rico. The beaches on the island were more intimate than Miami—unscathed by the hordes of tourists.

With the rum still lingering in his system, he wanted to believe her theory. That in the small town of Garnet there was a pretty gringa with the ability to turn his negative life into a positive one. The oddest thing about the fantasy was that as he lay there on the couch in an illegal chop shop, what he wanted most was the chance to show Katie the world. To see
her
laugh. To watch those wide, innocent brown eyes light up with amusement and know he was the one to give that to her.

Then he started wondering what that soft gaze would look like hazed in passion. Didn’t two negative forces have to join together to create the positive? He imagined those pale thighs around his waist, those soft tits pressing against his chest, and he had to adjust himself in his jeans when his cock got too hard for comfort. He was willing to bet her nipples were a rosy pink, just like the color of her cheeks in the cold, and it created a very sexy image in his mind. It seemed a real shame that she was lonely enough to be posting notes to a thug like him on Missed Connections.

This craigslist shit was leaving him very frustrated.

He could go up and find Mia’s room; instead, he decided to text Chuito.

Coming to Garnet. I’ll take care of the gringa situation when I get there.

What he didn’t say to Chuito was that he wanted one more chance too, but he didn’t dare respond to Katie’s post, not with the mention of a gang tattoo plastered all over the Internet. Miami PD knew what a Los Corredores tattoo looked like, but there was nothing stopping him from responding to her in person.

He needed a distraction from the gang life that always sucked him back in no matter how hard he fought against it, and, unfortunately for Katie Foster, she’d just provided one.

Chuito texted back almost instantly even though it was past four in the morning.

Bad idea. Call me when you’re sober.

Marcos knew his cousin was probably right, but rather than respond, he went back to rereading Katie’s posts in Missed Connections until the sun came up.

He was wired and felt alive in a way that was more than a little addictive to an adrenaline junkie like Marcos. The anger over losing his job had evaporated under the waves of lust reading all those Missed Connections posts had churned up. He kept waiting for the moment when reality would sink in, and he’d know it was a bad idea to test out Katie’s theory.

Instead he found himself packed and heading north on I-75 by noon.

He never did text Chuito back.

Chapter Five

Garnet County

Katie was worn out.

The Friday before spring break left the kids distracted and high-strung. They were counting down the minutes until break and really had no use for history.

As she headed to her car, Katie realized she was every bit as ready for spring break as her students. One of the small perks of being a teacher, and she planned to celebrate with a long bath, a glass of wine, and a good book. She had a stack of historical romances waiting to be read, and if she was lucky, the one she chose would be as good with the sex as it was with the historical accuracy and make her history-geek heart go pitter-pat.

A girl had to dream a little.

“Katie girl.”

Katie groaned and refused to turn around as she walked to her car. Instead she just held up a hand, giving a backward wave to her ex-husband.

“Wait up.” Grayson came up behind her, his loafers clicking on the asphalt. “You never told me what you were up to for the break.”

“That was by design.” Katie arched an eyebrow when he stood in front of her, blocking her path to her car. “Getting divorced means I don’t have to answer to you anymore.”

Grayson bristled at that. His eyes narrowed, making it obvious the long school day had worn on him as much as her. “Why do you have to be like that when I’m trying to be nice? I was going to buy you dinner.”

“Grayson!”

Katie looked toward the edge of the parking lot, seeing Ashley, the cheerleading coach leaning against the fence to the football field and waving Grayson over. Katie didn’t know why, but it seemed like lately the perky blonde was always underfoot whenever Grayson was doing his daily groveling.

“Why don’t you go buy
her
dinner,” Katie suggested, unable to taper the hopeful hitch in her voice. “She’s always after your attention. She giggles at everything you say in the staff meetings, even when it’s not funny.”

Rather than respond to the suggestion, Grayson glared over at the football field. “Later, Ashley!”

“My car won’t start!”

“Her car won’t start,” Katie repeated, giving Grayson a wide smile. “Go be a hero.”

Grayson grabbed her arm, obviously not amused with her sarcasm. “I am tired of begging, Katie girl, and I’m tired of this game you’re playing with our lives.”

Katie tugged at her arm, trying to break it out of his grasp. “Let go of me!”

“You know how it looks to this town when someone gets a divorce. They’re still talking about it. You need to come home now, and we need to get back to living our lives. Together. People look at me like a loser since we broke up, and I’m
over it
.”

“Oh, sweep me off my feet, why don’t you?” Katie laughed bitterly. “I don’t care what people in this town think.”

“I do.”

“I know.” Katie pulled at her arm again. “It’s one of the reasons why I didn’t want to be married to you anymore. All you ever cared about was what others thought. The perfect house. The perfectly obedient wife. Someday the perfect children to torment with this delusion.”

“It’s not a delusion,” Grayson snapped at her as he tilted his head toward the football field. “We’re better than them. We’re smarter. We make better life choices. Hell, I got more in my money market account than most of the people in this town could ever dream of. I pay more in taxes than they probably make in a year. I’m going to retire in another two years just off my investments.”

“Everyone talks about everyone. Not just here, but everywhere. It’s human nature.” Katie gave up trying to pull her arm free and just gave him a look of pity. “Stop worrying about what they think and just live your life. This obsession with being better is making you miserable. It was making me miserable too, until I realized I didn’t have to play along if I didn’t want to.”

“You’re not exactly a ten, Katie.” Grayson laughed cruelly, reminding Katie why she left to begin with. “No one is going to love you for your mind like I do, not in this town. I’m your best option, and I don’t understand why you did this to us.”

“I think she’s a ten,” a man called from behind them.

Goose bumps danced over Katie’s skin, and she wasn’t sure why until she craned her neck to look toward the direction of the low, male voice. Her body must have recognized what her mind hadn’t caught up with, because walking over to them was Marcos Rivera. He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball hat, but it was undeniably him. She could see the snake on his arm from there.

He looked larger than life in the late-afternoon sun with those impossibly broad shoulders and large, bunched biceps covered in tribal tattoos. She couldn’t help but notice that every inch of him seemed wound tight and ready to jump—like a tiger stalking prey. She blinked, understanding for the first time all those warnings Jules had been leveling at her in regards to Marcos.

This wasn’t the kind, handsome angel from the crash site.

This Marcos looked deadly.

He took off his sunglasses when he stopped in front of them. His light gaze rested on the steely grasp Grayson still had on her arm. “This is the part where you let her go.”

“Excuse me?” Grayson huffed in that annoying superior voice of his that had always embarrassed Katie when he used it in public, usually toward someone parking their car or waiting on them at a restaurant. “This is my wife and—”

“Ex-wife,” Katie corrected before Grayson could finish. She was still staring at Marcos in shock, unable to believe he was really standing there in front of her. “What are you doing here?”

Marcos broke the dangerous staring contest he was having with Grayson. He let his gaze run over her hotly for one long moment, making more goose bumps dance over her arms. A small bit of the tension eased out of his powerful frame, and the look in his beautiful eyes became warm just like she remembered. “I got your messages.”

“My messa—” Katie cheeks heated when she realized what he was talking about, and her voice was a squeak of acknowledgment. “Oh.”