$

“Charlie.” A smile spread wide on Eduardo’s lips as he strode toward the older woman.

Lips Stacy had tasted. Once. And she wanted to taste again. It was wrong, so wrong. How can she be about to commit herself to one man and crave the taste, the touch, the proximity of another?

Eduardo and Javier exchanged greetings with Charlie. They laughed at some inside joke Stacy didn’t understand.

“Charlie, this is Stacy Walker. She is a teacher from America. Charlie is a teacher also and a dear friend.”

“Stacy.” The woman leaned forward. Stacy did too. There was an awkward kissing of cheeks.
It was a very Central American thing, the kissing, the touching. There was no dishonor in kissing, Eduardo said. It was expected. Some of the tension eased from Stacy’s shoulders. She was not a bad person.

“You are a teacher, honey?” Charlie said in English softened by a rolling Southern accent. “Are you on sabbatical?”

Something like that. “Summer break. I go back in September.”

“Stacy will be staying in the village.” Eduardo’s arm circled her waist. “Do you know of someone wishing a boarder?”

The woman’s eyes lit up. “You could stay with me.” Stacy’s hand was covered. “I’ll cook for you. We could have pizza and burgers and…,” Charlie’s face softened as though she hadn’t had those foods in a while. “That is, if you want, honey.”

Stacy glanced up at Eduardo. He nodded, looking pleased. “I’d love that,” she murmured.

“We’ll move you in right…,”

“We have to go. The Boss, he waits for you, Eduardo.” Javier interrupted, his expression anxious. “Very bad mood. He threatens to,” He made a slicing movement with his hand across his throat. “everyone.”

A chill fell over Stacy. Had she put Eduardo at risk with his boss, this crime boss they were both so loyal to? “Eduardo…”

“I will see him. Explain,” Eduardo reassured her. “He would never hurt you. Don’t worry.” He hugged her.

He misunderstood. “It is not me I’m worried about. It is you.”

Their bodies touching, Stacy felt him tremble. “You worry… about me?” he asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

Had no one ever worried about him before? “Of course.”

“Of course, you worry… about me,” he repeated, his normally strong voice weak.

“I got you into trouble.” That was why she was worried, because she was responsible, and because Eduardo was a nice person and… that was it.

He stepped away, shaking himself. “No, no trouble.” Javier’s raised eyebrow said the opposite. “The Boss will not hurt me. I promise. You stay here. I will be back in an hour or two for our big breakfast.”

“You haven’t eaten?” Charlie chirped happily. “I could make bacon and eggs and pancakes.”

It was not exactly the Belizean meal Stacy had been anticipating. “That would be nice,” Eduardo agreed to it anyway. “I will text you, Charlie, when I am done.”

“Eduardo, the Boss.” Javier shifted impatiently.

Eduardo didn’t acknowledge him. “You will be okay? Here with Charlie?” He looked concerned, about her.

She was concerned about him. “I’ll be okay. Will you…,”

He squeezed her waist. “I’ll be okay. You don’t worry… about me.”

“Eduardo,” Javier cautioned.

“You go.” Charlie shooed him away.

“Yes, yes, I go.” Eduardo raised his hands. He paused. Then he surged forward. His big hand on her hip, the heat of his palm felt through her clothes, he kissed her on the lips quickly.

By the time, Stacy recovered from the contact, he was gone. Charlie eyed her, a slight smile illuminating her face. “Your man will be hours, Stacy. I’ll make us a snack.”

He was not her man. She should correct Charlie. She didn’t. She followed the woman into the house.

$

Read Part 10 September 8th

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Eduardo searched through her backpack the next morning, his stomach growling. Nothing. No food. “We will eat a big breakfast once we get to the village,” he promised.

“What will we have?” She winced as she combed through her snarled hair.

“Here, let me.” He took the comb from her, sitting behind her, gathering her hair up in his hands. It was the color of raw honey. Pearl earrings glistened in her ears. “We will have fryjack, lots of fryjack.” He carefully separated the strands with his fingers as he had often seen mothers do with their little girls.

“Hhhmmm… is that like a pancake?” She was no little girl. Her eyes closed, her head lulled back. He wanted to kiss that exposed neck. “I like pancakes.”

“Better than pancake.” She’d changed her clothes, this blouse bright and frilly and feminine. It suited her. “And we will have black bean and egg.”

“That sounds yummy.”

She sounded yummy. He combed, singing softly, happy to care for her. Javier would come for them soon, the shooting long done. Until then it was him and her and a beautiful Belizean morning. “Stacy”

“Eduardo.” Her eyes opened. She turned her head slightly.

He kissed her, a light, harmless brush against that full mouth. Her lips parted with the contact so he kissed her again. Harder. Longer. Not a kiss a lover would give but not a kiss of a friend either.

Although he wanted more, he didn’t risk rushing her. He reluctantly drew back, returning to combing her hair, trying to act like nothing happened, like a missing piece of his heart hadn’t been found. She stared straight ahead, the emotions flying across her face easy to read. Passion, bemusement, realization, guilt.

“About…, that is…, I mean…,” A pause. “Daniel asked me to marry him,” she blurted out.

Had she been thinking of that half man while kissing him? “Do you see him here? No. I don’t. This has nothing to do with your almost fiancé.”

“It does. I’m an honorable woman, Eduardo.”

“And I dishonored you?” He drew himself up, offended at the implication. “I would never dishonor you.” She was a treasure.

“We…,” She waved her hand.

Could she not even say the words? He set down the comb not trusting himself to be gentle.
“We kissed. That is all. There is no dishonor in kissing.”

“It shouldn’t happen again.”

Eduardo didn’t agree because it would happen again, many, many times.

$

Read Part 9 September 1st

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“Like a Belizean sky, you are, you are.” Stacy joined in with the ‘you are’s’ as Eduardo added his own lyrics to “Eres Tú”. They lay under the stars, staring up, Stacy’s body so close, he felt her warmth.

It was a comfortable bed but no hotel room in Dangriga. Still his little dove didn’t complain. She smiled and sang. Eduardo could stay here forever. If not for… He checked his phone again.

“Any word?” Although she had not met the children, she sounded as worried as he was.

“No.” She would like Paz, he knew it. She wouldn’t see his imperfections like some others did. “That is good.” He said more for himself than her. “Javier would only contact me if there was a problem.”

“Eduardo?” She rolled onto her side, facing him.

He did the same. All he could see was the outline of her face, the moonlight reflecting off her blonde hair. “Yes, Stacy.”

“Thank you.” She touched his chest. “For today.”

He captured her hand, turning her wrist to kiss it. “It was nothing.” It was everything. Her pulse beat strong under his thumb.

“Tomorrow you will take me to Dangriga.”

“If you like.”

She didn’t speak. A lonely bird called out in the night. She wiggled a little closer to him.
He put his arm around her. “If you had time, I would take you to my village.” Have her meet his friends, the children, Paz.

“I have time.” He barely heard her words. “I have two more weeks before I go home.”

Two weeks. She could fall in love with him in two weeks. “In two weeks, I would show you my Belize.” She’d see how beautiful it was and then she’d choose him

“I’d like that.”

$

Read Part 8 August 25th

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Stacy woke with her head on Eduardo’s shoulder. It felt right there. Comforting. He was comforting, so sure of everything. Was he right about Daniel? No. Daniel had said he loved her. Twice. Although he was not one for excessive displays of emotion, that didn’t mean he didn’t feel love. He loved her. He did.

There was a humming between their bodies. Eduardo pulled out his phone, looked at the screen, and frowned.

“Is your friend coming?”

“No.” He held out the phone to her. “The Boss wants all the men to stay near to the village. He worries that the bad men will cause trouble tonight.”

Stacy read the message. There was a mention of taking care of children. “You have children?”

“Of my heart, not of my blood. The village children.” He snatched back the phone. “It is nothing. Javier assures me of their safety.”

It was not nothing. Children of his heart. Like Izel, the little Mexican girl who captured her affections last year. She’d cried when Stacy told her she was going to a new school. Daniel had pushed those feelings aside, telling her there’d be more little girls at the new school. He hadn’t understood. But she understood Eduardo now. “You wish you were there…,”

“Then I would not be here.” Eduardo summoned up a smile. “And I would not have met you.”

“And I would have died.” Dead in Belize. Her parents and Daniel might have worried but they wouldn’t have known something was wrong. Not for two more weeks, when she didn’t return.

“You should not be traveling alone, little dove.” He rummaged through her backpack treating is as his own. “If I was your almost fiancé, I would travel with you.” He pulled out the patties she purchased before crossing the border.

She had asked him. “Daniel was working.” And his idea of a vacation was a five star resort in the Mediterranean. “He couldn’t come.” She took the patty Eduardo passed her and bit into it, the spices hot in her mouth.

“He decided not to come. There is always choice. I chose to be with you today.” He chewed on a patty. “He chose not to be.”

Stacy didn’t want to talk about it. “Are we walking again?” Her body ached and the sun was setting, but she was rested after her nap and her stomach was full. The big man stood up, looked around, they were in a cozy clearing.

“No. We walked enough. Now, we build our bedroom. We sleep here tonight.”

Read Part 7 August 18

$

Eduardo added more and more verses to his song. He enjoyed how her humming blended with his words, like they were a team, a couple. She asked him questions about himself, as though she cared.

He should do the same. “What do you do in America?”

“I am a teacher. I teach music and languages.” There was pride in her voice.

A teacher. The Boss needed a teacher. Not for music and the children would laugh if she taught them Spanish but she was an intelligent woman. She could teach other things. “We have a school. A big school. Only one teacher. Many, many children.” They would adore her, especially Paz, he would never let her out of his sight. As Eduardo would never.

“Do you?” That earned him one of her face-lighting smiles. “I used to teach at a big school. We didn’t have enough teachers either but the kids, oh, the kids.” She clasped her hands together.

Used to. Did that mean she had no job? “Did you quit your job to find yourself in Belize?” Would it really be that easy to keep her forever?

“No. In September, I’ll be starting at a small but very prestigious school. It is quite an honor.” It didn’t sound like an honor. She snipped off the words as though it was a horrible fate.

Prestigious meant rich kids. Eduardo looked down at the leaves adorning Stacy’s hair. “That is not you, little dove.”

“It could be.” Her lips set mulishly. “Daniel says…,”

“Daniel?” Not Dan but a Daniel. Eduardo already hated this pretentious prig. “Who is this Daniel?”

Her dirty face went red. She unbuttoned her collar, tugged at a chain, and held up a ring. A lady’s ring. With a big diamond. Eduardo had worked long enough for the Boss to know it was an expensive piece of jewelry.

“You are engaged?” His gut seized. But no, she was here. Alone. What man would allow his future wife to be put in such danger?

“I will be.” She dropped the ring like it burned her fingers.

“Will be.” That meant not yet. His careless rival had given her a ring. He had asked. She hadn’t said yes, not yet.

“I think not.” Eduardo snorted. She would choose him, not this Daniel, this half man. This time he would be chosen. “He doesn’t love you, not the way you should be loved.”

“He is a good man.”

Eduardo pressed his lips together to prevent from retorting. If he pushed, she would only end up defending her almost fiancé more. “He is a lucky man.” The son of a bitch. “You will be very happy.” With Eduardo del Popolo Vicente Rodriguez Garcia, not the Americano. “Sit.” He pointed to a log. “We will rest for a minute.” He sat beside her, his thigh pressing against hers, before she moved her leg. The song he chose was of an unrequited love.

$

Read Part 6 August 11

“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. “Do we wait for the next bus?”

“No.” No more buses. Eduardo texted Javier , asking for a pick up. “We will walk for some minutes.” Parallel to the road. “My friend will get us.” He ignored Javier’s wise-ass reply about interfering in other people’s problems.

“If he is going to get us, shouldn’t we wait here where he can find us?”

That would be easier, if men weren’t dying just up the road. “It is safer if we walk far from the shooting.”

$

“What kind of plant is that?” Stacy had started asking questions to distract herself from her aching feet. She continued asking because they propelled a stream of imaginative nonsense out of Eduardo’s mouth.

“It is a Kapok tree.” That could be true. “Pea pods from the Jolly Green Giant’s garden.” That was not. He knocked the giant pod and launched into convoluted song about the Jolly Green Giant and spinach.

They marched along. Eduardo continued to sing softly. Stacy continued to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. They’d been walking for what seemed like hours, people had died today, she was exhausted and sore and… happy. She touched the hidden ring.

“What is in Dangriga, little dove?” Eduardo paused to ask her.

Nothing or everything, she didn’t know. “They have a hostel there. The rooms are cheap.” And clean. She was told they even supplied a traditional Belizean breakfast.

“So nothing.” He stepped over a fallen tree. “You should not sightsee on your own. It is dangerous.”

“I’m not sightseeing.” She didn’t like how he put that. This trip wasn’t a trivial tourism whim. “I’m searching.” She balanced on top of the log.

He stopped, turning. They were almost eye level. “What do you search for?”

She touched the ring again. “Myself.” It sounded hokey, like some new age nonsense.

“You are here.” He put his giant hands on her waist. Stacy caught her breath. “I have found you.” He chuckled.

“You don’t understand.”

“I do understand.” He shook his head. “You are not lost, Stacy. You know who you are. That is not why you’re here.”

What did he know? He hadn’t spent the past months cast adrift from himself, swept away on a sea of plans he had no interest in. “Why am I here?” She straightened, bracing herself for another joke.

“You are here searching for permission to be yourself. That only you can give.” He tapped her chin. “And…,” He grinned. “You are here to find me. Here I am.” He spread his arms out.

She laughed. This was when she should tell him. But then he swung her to the ground and the moment was lost. They continued walking, his hand gripping hers. That was wrong too. She should tell him.

“You…,” Live close to here, she was about to ask but didn’t. That would sound like she wanted him to take her home. “Your family,” Better, “lives close to here?”

His smile faded. “No family.” Then he brightened again. “But I live two hours away. Javier too.” Javier must be the friend meeting them. “Many friends. A good boss. A happy life.” He started to sing again, an upbeat Spanish song about the simple things.

She had so much more yet she wasn’t as happy. No, that was no longer true. She hummed along to the tune. She was happy. She was extremely happy.

Read Part 5 August 4

“You two know each other?” The short man, Gomez, spluttered.

Eduardo turned to her. “You are?” He sandwiched her hand between his two much larger ones.

“Stacy Walker.” There was no harm telling him her real name.

“Stacy, I am Eduardo del Popolo Vicente Rodriguez Garcia.” He kissed her knuckles. She felt the impact straight down to her toes.

“Like Manuel, the Spanish tenor?” This man was a tenor too, she heard it in his voice.

Eduardo’s jaw dropped. “You appreciate music?”

She loved music. So much she made it one of her majors. That specialty, combined with Daniel’s influence, landed her a trial term at an exclusive private school this fall. Daniel had been so proud, his response swaying her decision.

“Yes, Gomez, we know each other,” the big man decided.

“I see.” Gomez moved forward in the bus , leaving her backpack on the seat. The rest of his men followed.

“I thought you would.” There was humor in her new protector’s voice as he watched Gomez talk to the driver. “They,” he whispered into Stacy’s ear, causing her to shiver, “are bad men.”

“And you are?” she whispered back.

He chuckled. “A very bad man.”

He wasn’t lying, she knew that, but she smiled anyway. “Are you related to Manuel?” she whispered again.

“No but the name suits me, doesn’t it?” Then he started to sing along with the radio, his voice strong and pure.

She listened, turning to stare out the dirty window. For the first time in months, Stacy felt content. This felt right, being on this bus, Eduardo beside her, the passing jungle a whirl of green, the bus speeding up. Belize. Would she found what she was searching for there? She touched the hidden ring and closed her eyes.

$

The bus lurched to a stop, throwing them forward, Eduardo’s arm securing his Stacy, the movement waking her. Shots rang out. Shit. Ambush. Not by Gomez’s men. There was outrage on the gang leader’s face. Someone else.

“W…w…what?” She blinked those big gray eyes.

Trusting gray eyes.

He had to get her out of here. “Come.” He flung her to the floor, covering her as the next round of shots bit into the bus. The backpack. He grabbed it, it weighed nothing, and slung it over one shoulder. They crawled along the aisle, Eduardo in the lead, Stacy following wordlessly. Eduardo heard a whimper as they moved over a dead man, his body bloody and warm. Gomez’s men were positioned at the sliding door, the only real exit.

Not that many men. Eduardo shot two attackers, creating a break in the coverage. He reached back, grabbed Stacy’s hand, and ran into the jungle.

They ran until the gunshots faded, Eduardo moving so quickly that at times he suspended Stacy by her arm. Her breathing was ragged and as soon as they were out of range, he stopped.

“You are safe.” He moved his hands over her, reassuring himself. Her face was red, her golden hair stuck with moisture to her head, her magnificent chest was heaving, but she was well. “Rest here.” He dusted off a rock with his palm.

“Those… they…,” She sat, so prim and proper on the rock, legs pressed together, back straight, like she was about to have tea with the Queen. “Who?” she asked in English.

“More bad men,” he replied in the same language. Her Spanish was formal and stiff but her English, her English settled around his gut like a fresh cup of java.

“The old lady?”

She had been shot at. She was in the middle of the jungle. Yet she asked about the old woman? “She got off an hour ago. She was not your friend. She was friends with the bad men.”

Read Part 4 July 28

“Miss, we take this bus.” The old lady’s bony fingers curled around her elbow. “Take this bus. Go to Dangriga.” Her wrinkled face creased with even more lines.

She could take the bus with the old woman. It’d be safe now. Stacy looked up at the tall stranger. “Thank you, but…,” Stacy searched for the right words in Spanish. It was her second language and she didn’t want to insult the man. “I will take the bus with my friend.”

“She is no friend.” Those dark eyes narrowed on the old lady. She hissed words Stacy hadn’t yet learned in reply. “For your safety, little dove,” he repeated, his voice was barely a whisper, “come with me.”

His persistence made Stacy even more nervous. No one would be that concerned over a stranger’s safety, not unless there was something in it for him. “I’m sorry.” She turned and followed the woman.

$

So was he. Eduardo saw the way Gomez watched his little dove, like a wild dog contemplating his next meal. Who the hell allowed such a beautiful woman to travel alone? Stupid Americano men.

Stupid Eduardo. It was none of his business, what Gomez did. Eduardo sauntered back to the car, kicking pebbles as he walked. His job here was done, the border guards had been paid, their assurances of loyalty given. The Boss would expect him back. He should go. The little dove was a beauty, her gray eyes gentle and kind, her curves soft and rounded, but he had done his part. He had offered her a choice and she hadn’t chosen him.

Just once he’d like to be chosen.

Gomez laughed, a tinge of triumph overlaying the menace.

“You go back without me.” Eduardo didn’t meet Javier’s eyes. “I’m taking the bus to Dangriga. Pick me up there in five hours.” It would take that long on these roads.

“The Boss said nothing about going to Dangriga,” his friend repeated.

“This is personal, not business.” The Boss would hear about it though. The Boss heard about everything.

“Personal, right.” A laugh. “No woman is worth five hours on a bus with Gomez, Eduardo. Not even your plump pigeon. This is not your problem. Leave it be.”

“I can’t.” She would be harmed. Gomez and his men followed the woman into the bus, sniggering and making obscene hand movements. He couldn’t allow that.

A heavy sigh. “You never can, my friend .” Javier slapped his shoulders. “I will meet you in five hours. One minute late and I come looking for you, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He was a good man, Javier. He always had his back.

$

The elderly woman sat in a single seat by the door. Stacy needed extra room for her backpack so she sat in a double seat. The men filled the seats around her, guns casually held on laps, laughing and joking about going hunting. What they were hunting, Stacy wasn’t quite sure, the animals changing over the conversation, but the sexual implications in their comments were clear. The bus started, music blasting from the beat-up radio.

The short man sat in the seat across from her. “Who is waiting for you in Dangriga, pretty lady?”

Stacy’s hands tightened on the backpack. Had she made a mistake? “My…”

“None of your concern, Gomez.” The big man, Eduardo, ducked his head as he stepped into the mini-bus, the vehicle lowering an inch. “Hold this.” He wrenched the backpack from Stacy’s fingers, tossing it into the short man’s lap.

“That’s mine,” she protested.

“And Gomez will take care of it, won’t you, Gomez?” Eduardo sat down, stretching his arm along the seatback behind her head. Heat radiated from him.

Read Part 3 Here July 21st

“Yes, yes,” the short man replied in slurred Spanish, sliding the back door open. “This is the bus you take if you want to go to…,” His voice dropped, he tapped the barrel of the gun slung around his shoulder, and the men circling him laughed.

They were all armed. And sweaty. And leering. She didn’t want to get in there alone. “Ma’am, are you taking this bus?” she asked the elderly senorita, the only other woman continuing on.

“No.” The woman frowned at the men standing around the bus. “I stay here. You stay here too, miss. Take next bus.”

She could do that. Though here was nothing to talk about. A couple tables and chairs. Water coconuts being slashed open with machetes. Some men talking.

Stacy’s gaze was drawn to the large man in the black dress pants. He watched her, they all watched her, but not with his intensity. As though he knew her, really knew her. That was impossible. She touched the ring on a chain around her neck, the diamond carefully hidden under her cotton blouse. She didn’t even know herself.

“When is the next bus?” she asked the old woman.

“Tomorrow. Next day.” A shrug of frail shoulders. “It will come when it comes.”

Stacy had been traveling in Central America for three weeks and knew that wasn’t a joke. She’d been stuck in Cobán for two days when a bus broke down. But that had been a larger town, accustomed to travelers, she’d found a place to sleep. This wasn’t even a town. It was a little more than a bus stop.

She glanced back at the bus. “The bus is leaving soon, pretty lady,” the short man called out. He was the leader of the group, not the bus driver. The bus driver sat in the vehicle.

“You don’t want to get on that bus, little dove .” A deep voice lilted musically. He stood by her side, the big man with the black pants.

She looked up, and up, and up, past miles of broad chest, a thick neck, square chin, sharp nose, until she reached dark, brooding eyes. “I need to get to Dangriga.”

“There are many ways to get to Dangriga. This is not the best way.” He stared over her shoulder and frowned. The laughter at the bus faded away.

“It is the only bus.” Was he a taxi driver? Everyone seemed to know him, they had called out greetings, had shaken his hand.

“We will drive you.” As he turned to his equally large friend, she spotted the gun handle sticking out of the back of her new companion’s pants. This was no taxi driver. “Isn’t that right, Javier? We will take the lady to Dangriga.”

“The Boss said nothing about Dangriga, Eduardo.”

The Boss? Were they talking about a mafia boss?

“Let me worry about the Boss.” Eduardo smiled at her, his teeth white in his dark face. “We will take you to Dangriga, little dove.”

“I don’t know.” Stacy hesitated. She had three choices. She could go off with two huge men carrying guns, working for a man they called Boss. She could get into the bus with five leering men also carrying guns, men the old lady didn’t trust. Or she could wait here in the open for the next bus that may, or may not, come… ever.

Read Part 2 

She bent over to peer into the fish tank. Her skirt pulled tight across a shapely rear. All of Brent’s body hardened.

“That’s Bubbles.” He could talk fish.

“I know.” She straightened, a smile on her beautiful face. “And that’s Bluey.” She pointed to the other fish, careful not to tap the glass. That was Marcy. She was considerate of his fish. “Bubbles is fairly new but you’ve had Bluey for fifteen years, since coming to the city.” She removed her blazer, draping it over a chair. “I’ve been in your condo before, many times, remember?”

No, he didn’t remember. He didn’t remember anything before that kiss in his office. “I… ummm… I…” She reached around to unzip her skirt and all words fled.

“We don’t have to do this.” She stopped. “If you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” A certain body part was in danger of falling off if they didn’t. “I respect you, Marcy, so much. No matter what happens. I need you to know that.”

“And I respect you.” Her skirt dropped to the floor. She was wearing black silk panties. She looked so strong and sexy. “But I need more than you knowing that.” Her blouse joined her skirt. A black silk bra. Brent froze, his brain overheating. “I need you.” She trailed her finger down his nose, over his lips, clucking him on the chin.

“I need you.” He clutched him to her, kissing her thoroughly. “I love you.” The words were out before he could take them back. He tensed. Had he moved too quickly?

Her face lit up. “I’ve waited five years to hear those words.” She cuddled against him. “The wait was well worth it.” She kissed him. “I love you too, Brent.”