Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

DANI

" N o, Mama. I'm not going out with the ‘boy from the grocery store' or anyone else," I tell her, rolling my eyes at her continued pressure.

" Mija , I'm not trying to be bothersome, but I worry about you. You shouldn't be alone."

I scrub the plate in my hand a little harder, even though it's already clean. "I'm not alone. I have you and Papa, and I'm so busy with work, I don't have time for anyone else."

That's not true, exactly, but I don't want to tell her about Kyle yet. Especially not while I'm mad and not sure how this week is going to go.

I spent all day yesterday going through my lists of recipes, choosing the things I can prepare strictly inside. It's pared down, but I can make it work. I'm going to make my slow cooker chicken thighs again, a pastel azteca casserole, pork carnitas, ground beef burritos, and I actually looked up Kyle's Marry Me Chicken Pasta recipe too. I don't think any of my customers will be falling to one knee over it, thankfully, but this week is going to be rough as I figure out what the hell I'm going to do about my grill and smoker.

"You are such a hard worker, Daniela," Mama praises, her eyes warm with affection as she smiles at me. "Is everything going good with the business? Xavier says you have a crew next door."

Of course he told Mama and Papa about that. That doesn't surprise me. What does is that it's taken Mama this long to mention it.

"Business is great, and yeah, there's a pool crew next door." I keep my voice flat and matter of fact, hoping she'll leave it alone.

Mama peers at me, her deep eyes searching mine. "I'm not stupid, you know, mija . I was once a young woman too, so I see the signs."

I freeze. "Signs? What signs? There are no signs."

She tsks, clucking her tongue in disappointment. "Xavier says you have a crew next door and that one of them is buying lunches from you but coming over to pay in person, after hours." She cocks her head, giving me a sharp look. "And Nick told Yvonne, who told me, that your date was fine until he brought you home and there was a man on your porch." The look grows sharper when I snort because that date was not ‘fine' long before Kyle came into the picture. "I've been waiting patiently for you to tell me about this man of yours, but you stay quiet. That, I do not like."

She takes the plate from my hands, drying it with the rag in her own. Her face is blank, which is almost worse than if she were glaring at me.

"His name's Kyle," I admit quietly.

She gestures at the stack of plates, silently telling me to keep talking as I continue washing. I pick up another dish and it magically loosens my tongue. "He's putting in a pool at the neighbor's house, and the first day, I cussed him out bad. The second day, too. And several times since then."

"Daniela," Mama chastises. "A lady doesn't speak that way."

"I'm not a lady, in case you hadn't noticed."

She purses her lips, frustrated with me. "And yet he keeps coming back? Must be your barbacoa ," she teases.

I grin, knowing that my food has nothing to do with Kyle's attraction to me. "Maybe," I concede.

"Is he a nice boy?"

I laugh at that, the question unexpectedly funny. "No, not really. Not in the way you mean. He jumped the fence and took one of my customers to the ground faster than I could blink when the customer got handsy."

" Ay dios mio ," Mama whispers, her hand clasped over her open mouth.

But I'm smiling at the memory now. "I gave him so much trouble about it, but deep down, I kinda appreciated it. And he's gone out of his way to not cause problems for my work, and he cooked me dinner to prove that he didn't need me to take care of him, and he took me to meet his family and his best friend who runs a dog rescue, where he volunteers."

Mama is looking at me with tears glistening in her eyes. "Ah, so he is a nice boy. Nice for you and to you, which is all that matters."

"That's not all that matters to you and we both know it," I challenge, carefully measuring the pointed look I give her so as not to be disrespectful.

She waves a hand dismissively. "If he is handsome enough, that is fine, and putting in pools is hard work so he must be strong, and it's a good job so he must make a decent wage." She's ticking off attributes like she's got a checklist in her mind—kind, good-looking, healthy, financially stable… check, check, check, check. "That's all we want for you. A man who is worthy of you."

A man who is worthy of me.

Kyle is definitely that, which is why I've been falling for him fast and hard and deep. Except as soon as things didn't go my way, I let my temper flare and went back to metaphorically flipping him off, throwing up bitchy defenses, and shutting him out to handle things on my own because that's my comfort zone.

But Kyle is as much a caretaker as I am. He tried to talk to me Thursday night and I refused to answer the door and his text. I was mean all day while they did the fence installation, and he still offered to help me. But I shut him down.

I think… oh, I think I've majorly fucked up.

"Mama," I say, catching her eyes.

"What is it, Daniela? You look sad."

"I need to go. I have something I need to do. Something important," I tell her, my mind already spinning.

"Okay, okay… go," she sputters, concerned. "You are okay, though?" When I nod, she takes the sponge from my hands. "Then go. But bring your Kyle over to meet Papa soon."

I nod, hoping that I can.

I kiss my father's forehead, not disturbing his after-lunch nap, and get in my car. But first, I send a text to Kyle… Can we talk?

I wait, but no reply comes.

My heart stutters, but then I remember who I am. I am Daniela Maria Becerra, and I don't take no for an answer. So, alright… he chased me until I relented, and if it's my turn to do a little chasing, I will.

Kyle Harrington has no idea of the tornado he's unleashed by not answering my text.

I pull up to Kyle's house twenty minutes later. His truck and Lucille are parked out front, and I steady myself so I don't slam my car into park, march up to his door, and bang on it, demanding he listen to my apology. As it is, I slide the shifter to park, walk to his door, and knock like a mostly semi-rational person.

But he doesn't answer.

I deserve that, I guess.

I knock again, peering through the glass in the door, but I don't see Kyle. Suddenly, Peanut Butter jumps up on the door, scaring me. I cry out, stepping back quickly, and Peanut Butter licks the glass like he's greeting me. "You scared me, boy. Where's Kyle? Go get him for me, okay?"

The dog disappears, and I wonder if he actually understood me. I look through the glass again but don't see Kyle magically appearing.

Bark! Bark! Bark!

I jump a foot in the air at the sudden, loud, and very close noise. I spin around to see Peanut Butter coming right at me. Oh, yeah, doggie door. I don't have time to prepare before he runs into me, his nose hitting at crotch level, and then he stands up, planting his paws on my belly to lick at my face. Thankfully, I do turn my face in time and his tongue lands on my cheek as I fight to not lose my balance. "Hey, Pee-Bee, where's Kyle?"

He barks. I take it as an ‘I don't know' and laugh that I'm having a conversation with a dog. I look around as I pet his head. "Hmm, how about if we go for a little ride and you can check out my house?" He barks again, and I smile. "Let's get in the car, then."

Peanut Butter hops down and prances right over to my car like he's understood every word I've said. I open the door for him, and he climbs in, sitting still while I buckle the seatbelt around him. I don't know if it'll do anything, but it makes me feel better. After all, I can't risk Peanut Butter getting hurt mid-dognapping. Once I'm behind the wheel, I lean over and take a selfie of me and the dog, both of us smiling, and send that to Kyle too.

If you want Peanut Butter back, come talk to me.

Am I insane? Maybe. But Peanut Butter doesn't seem to mind as we drive away.

I turn into my drive and check my phone. No response. That's okay, he'll come. He has to, if only for Peanut Butter. But I'll make him talk to me and listen to my apology.

As I open my door, Peanut Butter jumps over my lap, making sure he gets out first. Shaking my head, I watch in surprise as he walks right up to the porch, sits down, and barks, looking from me to the door like ‘hurry up and open it.'

"I'm coming, hang on, boy. I was seeing if Kyle texted back yet. Hell, I half-expected him to be sitting on the porch when we got here."

I unlock the door, and as I turn the knob, Peanut Butter worms his way through the tiny crack and runs inside, barking. I hear a quiet, "Shh," and freeze in the doorway.

Someone is in my house.

"Get the fuck out of here! Now!" I yell, not taking another step inside. "My dog's an attack dog and will tear you limb from limb if I say the magic word."

"What's the magic word?" Kyle says, coming into view.

"Oh." I blink. I thought he was an intruder, but he's got Peanut Butter in his arms, the dog's long legs dangling and scrabbling through the air as he tries to give Kyle licking kisses.

"Your dog, huh? You stealing him from me?"

I shrug, not apologizing. "It seemed like a good threat. And I didn't steal him. I told you where he would be. How'd you beat us here, though?"

Kyle grins, looking at me expectantly like I'm missing something important. It takes me an embarrassingly long time before it clicks. "Why are you in my house?"

"Took you long enough. Come here, I want to show you something," he says, putting Peanut Butter down. The dog quickly hops on my couch and lays his head down on the pillow in the corner, making himself at home.

"If it's your dick, I've seen it," I say dryly, but I mutter under my breath, "wouldn't argue with seeing it again, though."

"I heard that," he calls back over his shoulder.

I smile at his teasing tone. He doesn't seem mad, at least. So hopefully, he'll listen to me.

In the kitchen, I realize my apology is going to have to be a hell of a lot more than a simple ‘I'm sorry.'

"What did you do?" I whisper, looking around in shock.

I'm not sure what I'm seeing. There's a huge, rolling, wood-topped toolbox in my kitchen where my side door used to be, and where a wall was is now a sliding glass door through which should be my back yard, but instead, there's a patio.

"Don't be mad," Kyle pleads, stepping away from me like I might launch myself at him.

"You put in a door?" I say hollowly, trying to make sense of what I'm looking at. "You moved my patio?"

"I wanted to help fix things so that your business isn't messed up."

"You didn't have to… I could…" I stammer. I can feel the hot sting of tears in my eyes and blink them away. I don't want to cry because I'm still looking at everything, taking it in.

But the thing I want to see most is looking at me like he's afraid of my reaction.

It's then that I do launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. Thankfully, he catches me easily, holding me firmly with his hands cupping my ass. "Thank you so much. I'm so sorry. I thought I had to do it on my own." I pause to plant a kiss on his lips because I can't stand not kissing him another second. "I always do everything myself. It's been my default mode for so long because it had to be, but you…" I kiss him again, feeling the smile on his lips with my own.

"I know you can do anything, Daniela. I don't doubt that, but you don't have to do it alone. I'm here," he says between kisses.

"I'm sorry I let my temper get the best of me. I was just so mad…" Kiss . "I could feel everything I've worked for slipping away…" Kiss . "And I panicked."

He spins, kicking a chair out of his way so he can plant me on the kitchen table. He steps between my open thighs and grabs a handful of my hair, forcing my eyes to his. "You run to me. When shit goes sideways, you run to me, not from me, okay?"

It's hard to think that way. I've run from every single man I've encountered my entire life, even Papa and Xavier to some degree. I don't depend on them because they let me down, whether they mean to or not. But Kyle hasn't. Not yet, and if he ever does—because no one is perfect—it won't be with ill intentions. He wouldn't hurt me or expect something from me that I don't want to give.

There is one thing I want to give him, though. Something more important than an answer to his question.

I press my hand over his heart, feeling the thud through his shirt. "Kyle, I told you before that I choose you." His eyes flare, and I can see the mixture of fear and hope in their blue depths. "I still do. I choose you because I love you."

He inhales a jagged breath, his touch softening, gentle on my skin. Just before our lips meet, I feel him whisper, "I love you too."

And then his mouth is mine. And mine is his.

He tilts my head, angling for more, and the emotions we're both admitting to for the first time explode. Our kiss becomes demanding, both of us needing more.

I tug at the hem of his shirt, and he pulls away for a split second to rip it over his head. I dance my hands over his abs, splay them over his pecs, and tease at the piercings in his nipples. When he hisses in pleasure, I do it again, pulling on them a bit harder.

"Fuck," he groans, sounding like he enjoys the blissful torture.

He yanks my shirt over my head, letting it fall to the floor as he goes for my bra. It too drops away as Kyle ducks his head to my nipple, taking it into his mouth and sucking hard. I arch, lifting into him for more, but instead, he pushes me back to the table's surface.

His hands find the button and zipper of my jeans while I kick my tennis shoes off, and then I'm nude in the middle of my new and improved kitchen, with Kyle looming over me and looking at me like I'm the tastiest feast he's ever seen. He drops to his knees, dragging me to the table's edge and catching my legs on his strong, broad shoulders.

The first tease of his tongue over my clit has me clenching my thighs against his head, but he shakes his head, forcing his way back closer. "Give it to me, Daniela. It's mine."

I can't argue with that because it's true. My body, my heart, my soul… it's all his. I fought against it, against him, but he kept coming back for more, wearing down my defenses and showing me that he was worth the risk.

And he was worth it. He is worth it.

So I let my legs fall open, braving the onslaught of his tongue over my clit and his fingers as they easily slide inside me. "Good girl," he praises, and though I can hear the smirk in his voice, I can't care when he's making me feel this amazing.

He fucks me with his fingers, spreading my juices up to my clit where he licks them off before repeating the process over and over until I'm writhing on the edge of coming. He places his other hand low on my belly, just above my pubic bone, and presses down firmly, his fingers inside me teasing over that spot he knows gets me off fast.

I fly.

I cry out, my eyes slamming shut as my back arches hard. I lose track of my body as he works me through the orgasm. As I start to come down, he growls, "No. More. Go again." His fingers are soaked, and he blurs them over my clit, making me messy with my own cum as he demands another orgasm from me. My body complies much more easily than my mind usually does, and it takes very little teasing of my sensitive clit before I'm coming again.

" Yes ," I moan.

Kyle doesn't let me ride it out for long, though. He's multi-tasked like a damn pro and is standing at the table's edge with his jeans around his thighs and his dick free before I even finish. "Look at me," he orders, his voice hard.

My eyes are rolling in my head, but I blink, trying to focus on his face. He swats at my clit, and my knees close involuntarily as I flinch at the pleasurable pain, but it clears my vision enough to see the desperation on his face. I know what he needs. "Fuck me, Kyle. Like you love me, like I love you. Fuck me like we love each other."

His head falls to the side, and his eyes flutter closed for a split second as he takes a deep breath, but in a heartbeat, he's back and slamming into me. My legs fly up, landing on his shoulders, and he holds them there as he takes me.

In my romanticized mind, I thought making love would be sweet and gentle. Maybe that's the case for some people. But not for me and Kyle.

We are too fiery, too passionate, too wild for sweet and soft, so he fucks me rough, deep, and hard, and I love every second of it. He leans over me, testing to see how far my legs will go, and plants a hand next to my head when he finds my limit. I claw at him, probably leaving marks on his back, but neither of us seems to care. He's on me, in me, but I still want him closer somehow.

I look into his eyes as he savagely pounds me into the shaking table. This is not the time for words and whispered nothings. This is raw, powerful need that we can only satisfy together.

His hips slam against my ass, and he grunts, the cords on the sides of his neck standing out as he strains to hold on. "Daniela," he grits out, on the edge.

"Do it. Give it to me. It's mine."

Before I can finish repeating his words back to him, he's jerking and I feel his heat filling me. Unexpectedly, it sets me off again, and I throw my head to the side, finding Kyle's wrist where he's supporting himself. I don't mean to, but overcome with emotions and sensations, I bite down to keep from screaming as a third and final orgasm has me spasming and shuddering wildly.

"Oh, shit, sorry," I mutter, sagging.

Kyle's head is leaned against my calf and he's smiling happily. "I'd like to say your bark is worse than your bite, but…" he teases. I press a soft kiss to his arm where there are in fact tiny indentions in the red mark I left. But he seems unconcerned. "Handprint, teeth mark, all a small price to pay for getting at this sweet pussy," Kyle declares, grinding himself deeper in me.

I groan at the delicious feeling, even though his cum is leaking out of me and running down my cheeks to…

"The table!" I shout, pushing at him as it strikes me exactly where we are.

"What about it? It'll hold you and me both," Kyle says as I lower my legs and try to move.

I sigh, realizing it's too late, anyway. "Do you know how much cleaning and disinfecting I'm going to have to do before I can start prepping for the week?"

He flashes me a cocky smirk. "Don't know, don't care, totally worth it."

I can't help but laugh because he's right. Still, I swat at him, feigning anger. "Such a guy answer."

"Would most guys help you clean and prep? Because I will." He waits a moment and then says, "Never mind, don't answer that. Don't think about other guys while you're still on my dick… or ever. Just me. Kyle. That's all you need."

He pats his chest, and I shake my head, grinning.

"Did I mention the toolbox has all your knives, spoons, and spatulas in it?" he teases like that's the big dangling carrot in this situation and not his considerably sized dick. Or his extra-big heart.