Clutch Hit by Faith O'Shea (books to improve english .txt) 📕

feet of Steve. Always escaped to her pottery wheel when he showed up, not that Allie had brought him that often. Maybe two or three times, tops. He didn’t like family things, so she usually went alone. Little did she know at the time that he’d found other ways to entertain himself while she was there.

“What did you do when you got home?”

“I watched television. I found reruns of I Love Lucy. It’s about a Cuban band leader.”

“I know. It’s a classic show. I have to admit I haven’t seen many episodes.”

It was too slapstick for her taste. She was more into British humor. Dry and witty.

“I…binged. I very much like that word.”

“Did you like it?”

“Not especially but I couldn’t seem to turn it off.”

Her interest was piqued now. She hadn’t had time to channel surf. After dinner the night she and Jelani had arrived, the threesome stayed in the hotel lounge until closing, drinking mojitos and discussing life in the United States and baseball. Her mother-in-law was interested in her position with the Greenliners and wanted to know all about it. They stayed away from politics which was a risky proposition there. Last night… well, she’d had a lot of thinking to do after she left the bar and the Scotsman behind, and she didn’t need the distraction of background noise.

Having no idea what kind of television shows she would have found, she asked, “What do Cubans watch?”

“Not much besides drug-lord dramas and soaps.”

“American shows not allowed?”

“Actually, no, but it doesn’t mean we don’t have access. There’s what they call the packet, which contains maybe a dozen shows, distributed on a flash drive through an illegal network.”

The black market seemed to have tentacles everywhere.

“No Netflix or Hulu?”

“Netflix, yes, but the monthly fee for the installments cost more than what Cubans make in a week. Not many can afford it.”

He was pulling into the underground garage at the condo. He’d gotten here without the GPS or any help from her. He was certainly a quick study in all things American.

As they were riding the elevator up to his floor, she vocalized something she’d been thinking since setting down in Havana.

“Being there was like being in a time warp. You might have been addicted to I Love Lucy because there were some similarities to Cuban life.”

“Ricky Ricardo played at the Copacabana. They have something like it in Camagüey so there was a feeling of going home. Yes.”

He opened the door for her, and she walked in, feeling instantly at home. It made her wary.

“I will put this in your room. You can unpack it later. You said there were some things we needed to talk about when you got back. I would like to hear what you have to say.”

She had told him that. When she thought they might need to stay married until he was naturalized. Now, being here, feeling too much a part of his life, wanting to feel his arms around her and burn the sheets, she wasn’t sure it would be wise. But when he brushed past her, the sparks were electric. Throwing wise out the window might be the way to go.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Mateo pushed up the sleeves of his new sweater. He’d gone to the mall after all, thinking a couple of new things wouldn’t be out of order. The choices had overwhelmed him, and it had taken the advice of the salesperson to help him finally decide on what to buy. She was overly solicitous, and it wouldn’t have taken more than a smile to snag her number. A year ago, he would have, but not now, not when he was anticipating a much more pleasurable pursuit. He knew there was sexual tension between him and Allie, and by the way she winced when he walked past her moments ago, he hoped she’d be willing to surrender to it.

She was standing by the window looking out over the harbor when he came out, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. She turned and the heat in her eyes told him she might almost be there.

“New sweater?”

“Yes. Do you like it?”

“I do. When did you get it?”

“This morning before I went to pick you up. Don’t worry. I didn’t lose my head. I wanted some warmer clothes that didn’t include suits and shirts.”

They’d been in such a hurry when she’d taken him shopping, he had bought only the essentials for the wake, funeral, and road trips. This morning he took his time, bought a few other things he thought he’d need over the next few months.

“I should have—”

“It was a pleasant experience. I got to see what is out there to buy. Do we have a gaming system?”

“No. Is it something you want?”

“Seb has one. I am learning to play.”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt anything to have one here, but they’re banned in the clubhouse.”

“I can understand why. They can be addictive.”

Like her. She was in his blood and he wanted to drink in her passion.

He moved closer, knowing he had to take his time and not spook her. The urge to touch was too strong, and he reached out to brush his fingers against her cheek.

She didn’t pull back and it gave him the courage to ask, “If we are going to stay married, at least for now, are you sure you want to avoid the marital bed?”

She was mindlessly stroking her arm when she grimaced. “I’m not sure about anything. I thought this would be so simple. I get you here. We separate. You live your life, I live mine.”

“But?”

“It’s not simple anymore.”

Hope surged in his chest.

“Why is that?”

She was becoming agitated, her gaze bouncing from place to place, evading him completely.

“Because for some ungodly reason, I feel married.”

His heart bubbled with a swell of emotion. “It is the same for me. Where is the problem?”

“I can’t jump into someone else’s bed while I feel that way, and that doesn’t leave room for… a hook-up.”

Needing to know, he looked at her with unflinching