Chica Bella Read Free Page A

letting her know that 11 a.m. had arrived. Time to open for business.
    Four hours later, six different boys had propositioned her in some way. Mierda , you think they would learn that no meant no, and she didn’t want to have anything to do with them. She wasn’t that much older than they were, but she was a mature twenty-eight years old. She had been working for thirteen years to help her family keep food on the table and a roof over their heads. They weren’t rich by any means, but they were better off than a lot of people. And she definitely knew what her definition of a man consisted of, and these assholes didn’t make the cut. She had trained her brain not to think about the one man that she knew and loved, and hadn’t seen in almost a year.
    Four girls were gathered at the bar, giggling and laughing while looking at something over Maya’s shoulder. All were some shade of blonde, all bone thin, and all in the skimpiest of bikinis. They sipped their margaritas, and one ran her tongue over her lips while staring at whatever, or whoever, had her attention.
    “What can I get for your girls?” Maya asked, pushing her thoughts aside and concentrating on her job.
    “We all want another margarita, and don’t look now, but there’s a guy on the other side of the bar who is just to die for. Big guy with brown hair, wearing a black tank top. Give him a shot of tequila and tell him it’s from us, and then ask him if he would you know, like to come say hey, okay?”
    Maya nodded and smiled, but was thinking what a chica estúpida this one was. Why wouldn’t she just walk up to the guy and buy him a drink?
    She filled up the girls’ glasses and poured out the tequila into a shot glass. Turning, she examined the crowd for the big guy with the brown hair and black tank top, and saw him immediately. He stood in front of her; the tattoo on his chest branding him the warrior he was peeked out from under the tank top. His gaze burned through his sunglasses, and the air left her lungs as though she had been punched in the gut. Joy filled her. He was alive! She wanted to run to him and throw her arms around him, but hot on joy’s heels was anger. She hadn’t heard from him in nine months. The hurt, the worry, the tears all came back to her in a rush.
    Taking a deep breath, she walked up to him.
    “You’re very popular with the girls over on the other side of the bar,” she said, setting the glass down in front of him.
    His mouth lifted in a small smile. “Really?”
    “ Si . They want to know if you want to, you know, like to come say ‘hey.’”
    He flipped his glasses to his forehead and tilted his head to look past her. The girls giggled as he lifted the shot and slammed it back, and he gave them a wink.
    “Not interested,” he said, losing the smile, his gaze coming back to hers. They matched the sky and the oceans of Cabo. He appeared tired as he always did when he landed on her doorstep like this, but this time it seemed more pronounced. Tired and desperate, as if he were begging for someone to take away the sights and sounds from wherever he had been and replace them with pleasant things.
    This was the third time he had come into her life, and she hurt just thinking about when he would leave.
    “No? Por qué ?” Why ?
    “There’s only one girl I’m interested in,” he said in a low voice. She marveled how he could be among throngs of people, yet when he spoke to her she felt as though they were the only two in the universe.
    “Hmmm.” She put her hands on her hips as she studied him. “What if this chica doesn’t have any interest in you?”
    His gaze quickly traveled to her left hand, looking for a wedding band, she guessed. The idea that she could get over him and move on to dating someone else, let alone getting involved with someone that would lead to a ring around her finger was utterly absurd. The thought of doing so rang through her body in a way that was about as pleasant as the stomach