Snow Blind - Lori G. Armstrong [111]
“I figured. But I wondered if there was another reason.”
“No. The reason is simple; I don’t have any classy bling. Feel free to shower me with precious gems any time your heart desires, baby. I’m partial to big stones.”
He laughed softly. “I know.”
“Where’d you get this?”
“It belonged to my mother.”
I angled his head back to look in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me? Dammit, Martinez, you shouldn’t trust me with a family heirloom. What if I lose it?”
“You won’t.”
“But—”
“See? This is the reason I didn’t tell you.”
“Why? Because you were worried I’d be too paranoid to wear it since it’s so valuable?”
“It’s not more valuable to me than the person 395
wearing it, Julie.”
Melt my resistance, why don’t you. “That’s not an answer.”
“Yes, it is. I didn’t tell you because you’d see it for what it really is.”
“What’s that?”
“A symbol of permanence.”
My heart slammed into my throat.
“You really think I’d give this to you if I thought you’d walk out of my life? Or if I’d walk out of yours?”
He curled his hands around my head and his thumbs stroked my cheeks. His eyes were dark, black as molasses, but not hard and cold. “Although it took you long enough to say it the first time, you can tell me you love me more than once.”
My cheeks flamed. “Yeah? Maybe I’m waiting for you to say it back to me, asshole.”
His right eyebrow winged up. “Asshole?”
“You have to admit it’s been pretty one-sided when I’ve been the only one—”
“Te quiero mucho. ”
“In English,” I snapped. But a strange feeling unfurled in my chest. “Wait a minute. You’ve been mumbling that to me . . .”
“For months, blondie.”
Breathe. In. Out.
“You really need to buy a Spanish-language dictionary.”
Martinez had been telling me he loved me. For 396
months. He understood I’d be too chicken to put myself out there first, so he’d taken the risk upon himself. Stupid, sweet man.
But, Christ on a Kawasaki, I was also the world’s biggest fucking idiot. Why hadn’t I seen what everyone else had?
Are you ever going to allow yourself to be happy?
He’s crazy fucking in love with you.
Martinez mooning around you all the time. He’s better now that you’re here.
Te quiero mucho.
Jesus, Julie. Don’t fucking cry.
But if now wasn’t the perfect time to shed happy tears, when was?
Four distinctive raps sounded on my office door. An Hombres bodyguard signal.
Martinez muttered, “Never fucking fails.” He kissed my forehead and moved me aside. “Later.”
He grabbed his crutches and hobbled out the door before I could speak around the lump in my throat. Took me about four cigarettes to find my focus. I spun in my office chair and dragged my mouse across the mousepad to get the screen to come back up. Dumb computer crashed on me. I restarted it, 397
reentered the information parameters, and hit the online newspapers to see what I’d missed while I waited. Weather, weather, and more weather. The Bear Butte County Gazette only came out once a week so there wasn’t any new information on services for Melvin Canter.
On a whim, I looked up the number I’d written down for Marvin Canter and dialed it on the prepaid phone. Hey, Big Mike had paid for minutes; it’d be a shame to waste them.
Three rings and a suspicious “Hello?”
“Marvin Canter, please.”
“This is him.”
No proper phone grammar in Meade County.
“Mr. Canter, I’m the obituary coordinator for the Rapid City Weekly News. I was double checking my database and noticed we haven’t heard back from your family on service information for Melvin Canter. Do you have a firm date yet?”
“Ask the Bear Butte County sheriff. He ain’t released my brother’s body, so we can’t plan nuthin’.”
“Oh. I can see where that’d be a problem.”
“It’s very frustrating.”
“Have you talked to the sheriff? What seems to be the holdup?”
A snort. “He won’t say nuthin’ besides them bein’
behind on autopsies. Flu season’s been bad. Guess it shut down the whole staff in Pierre for two weeks, so no one can be spared for the VA. Which don’t matter 398
none to me because it ain’t gonna make Melvin any less dead. No matter what