fixed my eyes on who I suspected was Big Lopez.
Sitting alone at a table eating, he was wearing khakis, a plaid button-down, and had a hat on top of his very large head with the word BIG embroidered across the front. By my guess, he weighed an easy three hundred pounds.
Soft mariachi music filled the air as I walked directly to the table, pulled out the chair across from him, and sat down.
Without looking up from his plate of tamales, he spoke. His thick accent was a complete contrast to Juan’s almost perfect English. “You lost?”
“You know,” I said. “Temptation’s a bitch.”
He pushed his chair away from the table slightly and studied me. “Something you need to say?”
“Juan Ramirez, Luis’ little brother. After Luis went to prison, I started looking after him. You know, like a big brother. And now I see my younger brother tempted to do something that I don’t agree with.”
I leaned forward, pressing my forearms into the edge of the table. “So, I’ve got to do what any big brother would do.”
He wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin and widened his eyes as if feigning interest.
“I’ve got to step in and make sure he does what’s right,” I said.
“That’s what you’re doing?” he asked with a deep laugh. “Stepping in?”
I leaned away from the table and nodded. “I’ve stepped in.”
He pressed his thumb against the bill of his hat and lifted it slightly. “You think some guero throwing a buck-eighty at me is going to make me flinch?”
I glared back at him. “I look at Juan as my responsibility. He’s not coming to work for you. Not now. Not ever. My best advice to you is to avoid him at all costs.”
He glanced over each shoulder, fixed his eyes on mine, and grinned as he pulled his hat down tight against his head. “Hijo de la chingada. You got some balls, homie. Coming in here threatening me.”
I shook my head. “I haven’t threatened you. Yet.”
Almost hidden by the bill of his hat, his brown eyes narrowed.
I stood from my seat glared at him. “Ask yourself this. Is the risk worth the reward?”
He tilted his head back slightly and gazed back at me. “Depends, Guero. What’s my risk?”
Without responding, I turned and walked toward the door believing that some things were best left to the imagination.
And I had one hell of an imagination.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LIV
We walked along the beach no differently than we had a thousand times in the past, but to me, the experience was much more satisfying. I would have never guessed it to be possible, but I felt a deeper connection to Luke since we started having sex. I had convinced myself during my campaign to become fuck buddies that nothing between us would change, but things sure seemed to be different. The differences weren’t things I could identify or pinpoint, but I had become much more satisfied in his presence than I had ever been before.
“How was Black’s?” I asked, referring to his day of surfing at Black’s Beach.
“Racetrack lefts all day, but the offshore wind kept ‘em coming in, and I kept riding ‘em,” he said.
“Sounds like a good day.”
“It was.”
Lefts and rights were some of the types of waves, referencing whether or not the wave broke to the left or right. I understood very little of the terminology, but I knew enough to smile and nod if Luke was happy about his day of surfing.
“So,” he said. “Are you enjoying this new arrangement?”
I was enjoying it, but didn’t necessarily want him to fully understand just how much I was. At least not completely. I was afraid if he felt things were changing between us he would want to go back to the way things were. Personally, the thought of that ever happening was beginning to scare me.
“I am, are you?”
He nodded. “Strange, but I’m fucking loving it.”
Strange?
“Why strange?” I asked.
“I just never thought we’d end up here,” he said.
“Is that bad?” I asked.
“No,”
Sitting alone at a table eating, he was wearing khakis, a plaid button-down, and had a hat on top of his very large head with the word BIG embroidered across the front. By my guess, he weighed an easy three hundred pounds.
Soft mariachi music filled the air as I walked directly to the table, pulled out the chair across from him, and sat down.
Without looking up from his plate of tamales, he spoke. His thick accent was a complete contrast to Juan’s almost perfect English. “You lost?”
“You know,” I said. “Temptation’s a bitch.”
He pushed his chair away from the table slightly and studied me. “Something you need to say?”
“Juan Ramirez, Luis’ little brother. After Luis went to prison, I started looking after him. You know, like a big brother. And now I see my younger brother tempted to do something that I don’t agree with.”
I leaned forward, pressing my forearms into the edge of the table. “So, I’ve got to do what any big brother would do.”
He wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin and widened his eyes as if feigning interest.
“I’ve got to step in and make sure he does what’s right,” I said.
“That’s what you’re doing?” he asked with a deep laugh. “Stepping in?”
I leaned away from the table and nodded. “I’ve stepped in.”
He pressed his thumb against the bill of his hat and lifted it slightly. “You think some guero throwing a buck-eighty at me is going to make me flinch?”
I glared back at him. “I look at Juan as my responsibility. He’s not coming to work for you. Not now. Not ever. My best advice to you is to avoid him at all costs.”
He glanced over each shoulder, fixed his eyes on mine, and grinned as he pulled his hat down tight against his head. “Hijo de la chingada. You got some balls, homie. Coming in here threatening me.”
I shook my head. “I haven’t threatened you. Yet.”
Almost hidden by the bill of his hat, his brown eyes narrowed.
I stood from my seat glared at him. “Ask yourself this. Is the risk worth the reward?”
He tilted his head back slightly and gazed back at me. “Depends, Guero. What’s my risk?”
Without responding, I turned and walked toward the door believing that some things were best left to the imagination.
And I had one hell of an imagination.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LIV
We walked along the beach no differently than we had a thousand times in the past, but to me, the experience was much more satisfying. I would have never guessed it to be possible, but I felt a deeper connection to Luke since we started having sex. I had convinced myself during my campaign to become fuck buddies that nothing between us would change, but things sure seemed to be different. The differences weren’t things I could identify or pinpoint, but I had become much more satisfied in his presence than I had ever been before.
“How was Black’s?” I asked, referring to his day of surfing at Black’s Beach.
“Racetrack lefts all day, but the offshore wind kept ‘em coming in, and I kept riding ‘em,” he said.
“Sounds like a good day.”
“It was.”
Lefts and rights were some of the types of waves, referencing whether or not the wave broke to the left or right. I understood very little of the terminology, but I knew enough to smile and nod if Luke was happy about his day of surfing.
“So,” he said. “Are you enjoying this new arrangement?”
I was enjoying it, but didn’t necessarily want him to fully understand just how much I was. At least not completely. I was afraid if he felt things were changing between us he would want to go back to the way things were. Personally, the thought of that ever happening was beginning to scare me.
“I am, are you?”
He nodded. “Strange, but I’m fucking loving it.”
Strange?
“Why strange?” I asked.
“I just never thought we’d end up here,” he said.
“Is that bad?” I asked.
“No,”
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