“Mom, please,” Bubba said, scowling. “You know how ridiculous you sound right now? It was a hundred degrees outside. What the hell should she have been wearing?”
“I’m just saying that she looked like the kind of girl who uses her looks to jerk men around,” Laura Mae said defensively, but he could tell she was starting to feel lousy about what she’d done. “And I’m not a fan of girls jerking my sons around.”
“I’m my own man, Mom. I don’t do anything I don’t want to do, no matter who’s telling me to do it,” he said, tempted to tell her that Marisol was his manager and he paid her to tell him what to do, but knowing better than to open that can of worms. “Marisol is my friend, and she’s had a hard time with people not treating her the way they should, so I’d appreciate it if—”
“Did you think there might be a reason for that, honey?” Laura Mae asked in a gentle voice. “I can tell you care about her. But if a person keeps running into the same kind of trouble, a lot of times it’s because they’re going looking for it, whether they realize it or not.”
“And sometimes they’ve just had shitty luck,” he said, fighting the urge to get angry, knowing his mom didn’t mean to be cruel. “And sometimes it might mean that people have judged them based on something they can’t control before making an effort to get to know them.”
Laura Mae nodded slowly and some of the usual warmth returned to her brown eyes. “Point taken.” She sighed. “You’re right. I didn’t give her a chance, even when she was trying to be helpful with the dishes and everything. I’ll do better from now on. I promise. Forgive me?”
“Of course,” Bubba said with a smile. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said, reaching out to pat his hand. “You’re a good man, Bubs. I just want to see you end up with a good woman. If you think Marisol might be that woman, then I’m happy for you.”
He shrugged. “We’re just friends, Mom.”
“And I’m a monkey’s uncle,” she said, laughing when Bubba did a poor job of concealing his surprise. “There’s something between you two, baby, and it certainly doesn’t seem purely friendly. But whatever y’all decide to be to each other, I’ll make sure Marisol feels welcome.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Bubba shoved his chair away from the table, circling to give his mom a kiss on the cheek before starting toward his room.
“You want something to eat?” Laura Mae called after him. “I can warm up some lasagna.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry,” he called over his shoulder.
He’d lost his appetite for food, beer, company, or anything else that wasn’t Marisol. He’d give her time, but if she hadn’t come back to the ranch by tomorrow after he finished work, he was going into town to track her down. He didn’t want to upset her, but she had to realize this tension between them wasn’t going away. What they both wanted was out in the open, and there was no going back.
The only way forward was to find a way to balance business with pleasure. He wanted Marisol by his side as he moved forward with his career, but he also wanted her in his bed when their work was done, and he wasn’t giving up on either without a fight.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Marisol thoughtshe’d have trouble falling asleep, but she had evidently worried herself into a state of exhaustion. The second her head hit the pillow she was out, and she slept hard—deep and dreamless—the whole night through, only awakening when the sun crept across her pillowcase early the next morning.
Her eyes blinked open, but it took several moments of squinting into the pale yellow light filling the unfamiliar room and a long stare at the white wicker fan spinning above her head to remember where she was. When she did, the shame of the night before came rushing back, making her groan as she rolled over to bury her face in the pillow.
In the light of day, the way she’d kissed and run was even more mortifying.
How could she ever look Robert in the eye again, let alone manage his career?
A part of her was tempted to lock herself in Mia’s guest bedroom and never come out, but eventually the call of nature forced her to slip into last night’s clothes and down the hallway to the bathroom. When she emerged, Mia was in the kitchen pouring coffee.
“How are you feeling?” Mia’s curly red hair was sticking out in a million directions and her fuzzy pink bathrobe was tattered and pilling, but she still managed to look adorable. “Up for coffee?”
Marisol blushed as she ran a hand through her own disheveled hair. “Much better, and yes, please.”
“Cream and sugar?” Mia reached for another mug from a crowded shelf above the coffee maker, where mismatched plates and cups from a dozen different sets fought for space.
“Black is fine.” Marisol sank into a well-padded chair at the 1950s Formica table, admiring the cluttered coziness of the space. The kitchen at her own apartment was such a pit she hadn’t cooked in ages, preferring to grab food on the go and avoid eating near the sink of dirty dishes Carrie and Mac left festering for days, but Mia’s kitchen made her want to pull out her recipe for conchas and whip up a batch of sweet bread. It was welcoming, like the woman herself.
“Black. That’s hardcore.” Mia set a mug of steaming black coffee in front of Marisol before settling into the chair across from her. “I need two teaspoons of sugar and at least that much cream. I like to use heavy whipping cream, for extra deliciousness.”
Marisol took a deep breath, inhaling the nutty scent wafting from the fresh brew. “I didn’t start drinking coffee until I moved out of my parents’ house. Back then, I was so poor I couldn’t afford milk, so I got used to drinking it without.”
Mia nodded sympathetically. “I remember those days. When I was going to undergrad at Baylor, Tulsi, Clem, and I lived in the tiniest apartment in Waco. The only one who ate well was Clem. Tulsi and I survived on Ramen, oatmeal, and whatever else was on sale at the ninety-nine cent store.”
“Sometimes they have eggs,” Marisol said. “Those are exciting days.”
“I knew you were a kindred spirit,” Mia said, grinning over the rim of her mug as she took a sip of coffee. “Now if we can get you and Bubba to quit fussing, all will be right with the world.”