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  “Sure are,” Pita said in a drawn-out voice.

  Keisha paused for a second, with a faraway look in her eyes. “I heard he’s moving back into his house.”

  “Sure is,” Rita assured her. “But all these heifers thinking ’bout plit-plotting might as well fall back, ’cause I got some tricks up my sleeve for that brotha.”

  Pita sucked air between her teeth. “Well, chick, you ain’t the only one with some tricks . . . or treats.”

  The ladies all laughed together as Garcelle accepted her change and the brown paper bag holding her can of beans. She left them gossiping animatedly as she stepped out of the store.

  Kade moved back in his house, she thought as she dropped the bag into the basket attached to her ten-speed bike. Good for him.

  Anyone who wasn’t muy loco could see that Kade was an attractive man. During their first meeting that day at Kahron’s house, Garcelle had found her pulse racing—even as she put him in his place about insinuating that she was a lowly thief. Never had she wanted to slap a man and kiss him all at once.

  While working for Kahron and spending time around the family, she’d learned Kade’s story, and her heart ached for the man, who seemed lost and withdrawn without his wife. The only time he seemed to open up was around his family . . . especially Kadina. He was one man who loved and adored his daughter. That was one thing that had softened her heart toward the man, who could seem very cold and distant.

  One thing the crazy women had said was true: his decision to move back into his beautiful home was a sign that he was prepared to move on . . . the best thing that he could do under the circumstances.

  Garcelle rode the bike down the long and bumpy dirt road leading to the trailer park. She enjoyed riding her bike as long as her destination wasn’t too far. Otherwise, she flew around town in her old Volkswagen Cabriolet.

  She was just turning into their front yard when a black Chevy Caprice slowed to a halt beside her. The darkly tinted driver’s side window went down, but Garcelle didn’t need to see the driver to know it was her ex, Joaquin Consuelo.

  Garcelle gave him an eye roll and continued riding on.

  His car continued to roll slowly beside her.

  She slammed on the brakes. “What do you want, Joaquin?” she snapped as she put her feet on the ground and balanced the bike between her legs.

  “You,” he answered simply.

  Garcelle arched her eyebrows, with plenty of attitude, as she felt her anger rise. “When you had me, you wanted other women, remember?” she asked, her accent thickening with her irritation.

  “Garcelle, I never cheated on you,” he said, placing the car in park.

  A year into their relationship, Joaquin, through hard work, had saved up enough money to start his own landscaping business. And it flourished quickly. More money than he was used to started to roll in, and things between Garcelle and him started to change.

  “No, you just broke up with me because you didn’t want to be tied down,” she snapped. “The dinero and your business went to your head. The women were crawling all over you, and you wanted anything in a skirt. What? The grass—or should I say ass—wasn’t better, like you thought?”

  “I just wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing.”

  “I’m doing fine,” she told him, climbing back onto her bike.

  “You looking fine as hell, too,” he said, his eyes taking in her long, shapely legs and round buttocks in the cutoff jean shorts she wore. “Damn fine, bonita.”

  Garcelle hated that her pulse raced. She absolutely hated it.

  Joaquin was gorgeous. He had angular features, a tall frame, and those dark and swarthy Marc Anthony type of gorgeous looks. Garcelle had fallen for him hard the first time he asked for her number. They had been inseparable during the last year of the relationship, and his sudden declaration two months ago that he wanted his freedom had rocked Garcelle’s world. She was just starting to feel fully recovered. She was just starting to feel like the old Garcelle.

  No matter how fine he was. No matter how good she knew the loving was. No matter how much she used to miss him and crave him like a drug. There was no more Joaquin and Garcelle. They were finito.

  Garcelle pushed off on her bike. “Adiós, Joaquin,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Garcelle—”

  “A-di-ós!”

  Garcelle cruised into the front yard, jumped off her bike, and parked it next to her car, which was in dire need of a paint job and some other repairs. It was over twenty years old, but she loved it because she’d bought it with her own hard-earned money.

  She barely took a second to grab her bag from the basket before she dashed into the house. She didn’t even waste her time to see if Joaquin had left her alone as she’d ordered. She had a dinner of chili con carne to finish before her familia got home for the evening. Although she said she was tired of taking care of them, Garcelle knew they deserved a home-cooked meal after a hard day of work at the Circle S Ranch. Even little Paco would spend his summer days helping out.

  Garcelle added the beans to the chili and stirred it slowly before she tasted the broth. She added a little more crushed red pepper and salt before she replaced the lid and turned the electric burner on low. She was just gathering the ingredients for a quick corn bread when there was a knock at the front door.

  Thinking it was a persistent Joaquin, Garcelle slammed the spoon on the counter, sending bits of the cornmeal batter flying. She turned and stormed out of the kitchen on her long, shapely legs and snatched the front door open. “Are you stupid or just crazy . . . ?”

  The rest of her tirade trailed off into nothing as she looked up into the surprised face of Kade Strong.

  Garcelle rose up on her toes to look over his shoulder. There was no sign of Joaquin or his car. Dropping back down on her feet, she gave him a weak smile. “Sorry. I thought you were someone else,” she explained, with a faint smile, as she leaned against the open door.

  “I can come back,” he offered, sliding his large and strong hands into the pockets of his tan Dickies pants.

  Garcelle reached out to lightly touch his arm. Her eyes didn’t miss the way he flinched slightly from her touch. She instantly withdrew her hand. “How can I help you?” she asked coolly even as she noticed the descending sun illuminating off the big silver curls in his hair.

  “You could pretend my being here doesn’t annoy you,” he said in a dry tone.

  Garcelle bit back the smile that threatened to spread across her face. “Well, hello, Kade Strong. It is so splendiferous to see you on this glorious day. I was just saying how wonderful it would be to see Kade Strong, and here you are. I’m so lucky,” she said in a loud, exaggerated voice, her tongue rolling over his last name.

  He smiled. It was slow and even kind of hesitant, but it was a smile, nonetheless. “That’s some big-time overkill, but I’ll take it over the sour attitude you give me most times.”

  “Being called a thief makes you, how do you say . . . sour,” she told him as she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Damn, you sure can hold a grudge,” he balked, with an incredulous expression, as he looked down at her.

  Garcelle looked up at him, with a soft smile, which she didn’t bother to hide. “No, I just like to give you a hard time, Kade Strong,” she admitted.

  He pulled his hand from his pocket and extended it to her. “Truce?” he asked.

  He really is a beautiful man, she thought as she slid her hand into his. “Truce,” she agreed just as warm shots of electricity radiated across her hand and up her arm to harden her nipples into tight buds. Garcelle looked down at his bronzed skin against the soft caramel of her own. The warmth continued to spread across her body with ease.

  She snatched her hand away.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “Uh, no. Uh-uh. Everything’s good,” she said, looking up at him as she wiped a sudden flood of sweat from her forehead. “How can I help you, Kade?”
r />   “I’m moving back into my house this week—”

  Garcelle snorted. “So I heard,” she said dryly.

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  Garcelle forced a smile. “Nothing.”

  Kade shifted his weight on the porch and cleared his throat. “Anyway, I need help with Kadina this summer, and Bianca said you might be interested, since you only work for them like once a week for half a day.”

  “Like a niñera?” she asked.

  “A what?” Kade asked.

  Garcelle laughed. “You call it a . . . a nanny. Sometimes it’s easier for me to say certain things in Spanish.”

  “It’s funny that you look black, but you’re Mexican.”

  Garcelle rolled her eyes. “I’m Dominican. Latinos come from more places than just Mexico or Puerto Rico. Okay?”

  Kade licked his lips and looked apologetic. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

  Garcelle laughed softly as she reached up to lightly pat his cheek like he was a child . . . a big, six-foot five-inch, muscular, good-looking child. “Don’t worry. We’ll have all summer, while I’m watching Kadina, to teach you more about Latinos, Kade Strong.”

  “So you’ll take the job?” he asked as his eyes locked with hers.

  “Sí,” she answered, with a nod.

  “Good,” he said, with a nod of his own. “Can you start Monday?”

  “Sí.”

  “Great. Bye then, Garcelle.” Kade turned to leave.

  “Adiós, Kade Strong.” Her eyes drifted down his strong back to his tight buttocks in the uniform pants he wore. Not bad. Not bad at all.

  Kade turned suddenly.

  Garcelle jerked her eyes up to his face as a warm blush flooded her cheeks.

  “One more thing, Garcelle,” he said, his eyes sparkling with humor. “Are you always going to call me by my full name?”

  Garcelle stepped back and began to close the front door. “Sí,” she said playfully before closing the door.

  She leaned back against the closed door and breathed out through pursed lips as she waited for her heartbeat to slow down.

  3

  One Week Later

  “¡Uno . . . dos . . . tres . . . cuatro . . . cinco . . . seis . . . siete . . . ocho . . . nueve . . . diez!”

  Garcelle smiled with pleasure in the rearview mirror as she looked at Kadina, who sat buckled in the backseat of her car. “Very good. You learn so very quickly. Your father will be proud when you recite the numbers for him when he gets home tonight.”

  Kadina nodded as she sipped from the bottle of fruit punch she held. “He already says I’m starting to talk like you. I’m picking up your ashent,” she said, with pride.

  Garcelle laughed. “That’s ac-cent,” she stressed.

  Kadina laughed as well. “Yup, that’s what he said.”

  Garcelle steered her Cabrio carefully as she drove them to Kahron and Bianca’s to deliver the meals she’d cooked for them at Kade’s. She would clean the house and warm up one of the dishes for their dinner.

  “I like going to Uncle Kahron and Auntie Bianca’s,” Kadina said.

  Garcelle’s eyes shifted momentarily up to the rearview mirror. “Hershey, right?”

  Kadina nodded. “I love that lazy dog. She always lays her head on my lap and then falls asleep. I don’t mind that, until she farts in her sleep. Whoo. Talk about rotten eggs and stinky feet.”

  Garcelle laughed. “That bad, huh?”

  “Worst.”

  In just one short week, Gacelle had fallen even harder for the little girl with long ponytails and a toothy smile. “Remind me to stay upwind of Hershey,” she quipped as she parked her Cabrio in front of the house.

  “I will,” Kadina promised, with a giggle.

  Garcelle lifted the box holding the containers of food from the cracked backseat. “Do you want to go horseback riding now while I work?” she asked as they climbed the stairs together.

  Kadina held up her latest Cheetah Girls book. “I’ll just read and wait for you to get done. That cool?”

  “That’s cool with me.”

  They walked into the house, and the coolness of the central air felt good after the sweltering Carolina summer heat. “I wonder if Uncle Kahron likes all the changes Auntie Bianca made around here?” Kadina asked.

  Garcelle hoisted the box higher as they moved into the kitchen. “It looks much better, so he should love it,” she said as she began to place the containers in the fridge.

  The masculine décor of dark tones, large leather furnishings, and even larger electronics had been replaced with a more contemporary and comfortable style. It was a good mix of colors and textures so that a woman, man, or family could be comfortable in their surroundings.

  Kadina settled onto the new window seat at the rear of the kitchen, but she never opened the book she held in her hand. Instead, her eyes were focused out the window. “Aunt Bianca is good for Uncle Kahron,” she said suddenly.

  “Seems that way,” Garcelle told her as she emptied the container of beef stew into a large pot on the stove.

  “She makes him happy.”

  Garcelle stirred the stew as she looked over her shoulder at Kadina. “Yes. Being in love can make someone very, very happy.”

  “So if my dad fell in love, would that make him happy again?” Kadina asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Garcelle bit her bottom lip as she turned the burner on low and placed the lid on the pot. She went to sit beside Kadina on the window seat. “I don’t think that your dad is unhappy. He’s just grieving. And that takes time, you know? You can tell that he loved your mother very much.”

  “Would it be wrong for him to love someone else?”

  “Well, I think this is something you should talk about with your dad, sweetheart.” Garcelle reached over to pat her hand comfortingly before she rose and walked back over to the sink to wash out the now-empty container.

  “Garcelle?”

  Garcelle turned the water off in the sink and turned to face Kadina.

  Kadina shifted her gaze from the window to Garcelle. “Is it wrong for me to want him to love someone else?”

  “No, no, baby, it’s not wrong at all,” Garcelle told her. “When my mother died, I was much older than you, but as much I missed her and as much as I knew my father missed her, too, I knew she wouldn’t want him to spend the rest of his life alone. I bet your mother feels the same way. In fact, I believe she has the power from heaven to send just the right woman to him.”

  “Really?” Kadina asked in obvious doubt.

  “Oh yes, honey. So, no dipping your little nose all up in your daddy’s love life.” Garcelle winked at her playfully to lighten the mood.

  “You sure? ’Cause I think you might be just what my daddy needs,” Kadina told her, with confidence, as she rose and crossed her slender arms over her chest.

  Garcelle tossed her head and laughed until tears formed in her almond-shaped eyes. “Me?” she balked. “Oh no, baby. Nothing doing. Trust me. Your daddy and me? You are hilarious.”

  Kadina strolled across the kitchen. “Don’t you think he’s cute? I think he’s cute.”

  Garcelle tossed her hair over her shoulder as she leaned her ample bottom against the counter’s edge. “You know what? I will admit your papi is beyond cute.”

  Kadina’s grin widened.

  “But,” said Garcelle.

  Kadina’s grin dropped quicker than a bag of weights.

  Garcelle stroked her cheek. “Love you lots, Kadina, but your daddy and me? No way. No how.”

  Kade rode his white Appalachian horse, Star, along the outer perimeter of the herd. He used the horse and his own skill to help guide the herd to the northern area of Strong Ranch.

  His muscles ached from the exertion, the sun beat down on his back and shoulders, and sweat made his clothes bond to his frame, but he loved it. He was focused on working in conjunction with his ranch hands and his brother to get the herd moved before nightfall.


  He wanted to get home early tonight and actually spend some time with Kadina. He also had some more unpacking to do. Walking around a house where most of the furniture was still covered with sheets and the rooms were filled with boxes didn’t give one the feeling of home, which he wanted to provide for his daughter. Plus, Garcelle had been a good sport to work later than he’d first asked so that he could get the herd shifted.

  Garcelle.

  Kadina filled his nights with her daily adventures with Garcelle. He smiled and shook his head at the thought of Kadina talking with Garcelle’s Spanish accent. It tickled him when she called him Papi instead of Daddy. And he came home one night to find her listening to merengue music in her room.

  All of that he didn’t mind, but he had to draw the line at letting her loosen her ponytail to wear her hair like Garcelle or letting her learn how to belly dance like Shakira. A dance that Garcelle had demonstrated very well at Kahron and Bianca’s wedding reception a couple of months ago. Very, very well.

  Her hips had almost hypnotized him that night. Left, then right, and then left again. Round and around. Clockwise and then counterclockwise until he didn’t even remember his steps carrying him closer to the dance floor. Closer to her.

  Shaking his head for clarity, Kade motioned for one of the hands to move up and take his spot before he steered his horse over to Kahron, who was riding his own horse, Midnight. “Thanks again for helping out,” Kade said as he made his horse match the trot of his brother’s.

  Kahron had an odd expression as he placed his signature aviator shades atop his head. “Yeah, you thanked me already. It’s no problem.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s right,” Kade said, shifting his weight on the custom-made saddle.

  They rode and worked the herd in silence.

  Kahron dropped his shades back down over his eyes as he cleared his throat. “Something on your mind?”

  Kade frowned as he brought his horse to a stop outside the fence and watched the hands steer the cattle through the open gate. “Nah,” he protested.