That elicits the Eagle laugh I remember too well, the one that liquefies my insides.
“You’re gorgeous.”
My cheeks flush. Another reason I need to get out of here—the Caleb charm is starting to take hold. I’ll buy a ticket for the next Greyhound going to Arkansas if he’ll let me leave.
“Can you do me a favor?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“Put your clothes on.”
As I slip into my skirt and top, he stands and moves closer. I pretend not to notice, fighting my instinct to tell him who I really am. But to Eagle, I’m dead. Murdered and cremated, my ashes interred at the local cemetery.
“There’s a bruise where Tito slapped you.” He caresses my cheek with the back of his hand. The light touch of his knuckles makes me shiver.
“You came all the way over here to point out a blemish on my face?”
He tilts my chin upward. “Because I wanted to touch you.”
I can barely swallow. He’s so sexy and intimidating. The old me is jealous. I never wanted to think about what it would be like seeing Eagle with another woman. Being that other woman is surreal. Honestly, I don’t want him to stop touching me, but I jerk away. “Bruises heal.”
His jaw clenches. “Don’t play badass with me.”
“Sorry.” I know he’s trying to be nice. But tonight is a nightmare, full of bad memories and heartache. I need to go. “Is there any ice in the fridge?”
“No,” he says.
“Can you grab me some?” I ask. “I want to keep the swelling down if I can.”
He considers it. “Promise to stay put?”
Our eyes meet. “I promise.”
Without a word, he opens the door and steps outside.
Eagle
I’m a sucker for a damsel in distress—especially Serafina. And though I’m taking a chance leaving her alone, I know she can’t go far. I trudge to the main house. The show is in full swing, but Lazaro is back at the bar.
He takes one look at me and says, “What the hell happened to you?”
“Nothing,” I lie.
He cocks his head. “Really, bro?”
I don’t want to ruin his night. If he finds out what Tito did, he’ll snap. Maybe put a bullet in his mule’s head. Mendozas don’t tolerate unnecessary brutality; it’s one of the reasons his family has thrived on this side of the border. “Tell me, goddamn it.”
There’s no way to avoid it; I’d expect the same courtesy. I give him the details.
“Fuck.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Where’s the girl?”
“In the cabana.”
“Is she all right?”
“Shaken up, but fine.”
“Good. Take me to her.”
