Page 8 of Desperate Justice
“Rafe, you could have died last year when you were shot. You don’t know, no one wanted to tell you, but we were certain...we’d lost you. And Tita, it broke her heart. She was saying rosaries day and night. Never left the hospital. You were always her favorite.”
Luis stated it as fact, without animosity. Guilt struck him as he studied his grandmother, chattering happily as she arranged pastries on a plate instead of sitting and resting. When he’d finally gained consciousness after the lengthy surgery, everyone had acted cheerful and happy. No one told him how worried they’d been about his odds of survival.
“Tita wants to know when I’m going to settle down.” Rafe swirled the ice in his glass as if it held all the answers.
“You should. Or at least find a nice girl and date her.”
“I date.”
“No one you’ve ever introduced us to. Face it, Rafe, you adore women, but not to make a life with. I was like you, before I met my girl.” Luis gave a merry wave to his wife, dancing with one of his brothers.
“Everyone loves your Ana. They approve.”
“So find a nice girl to bring home to dinner.”
Rafe wanted to laugh. A nice girl. A woman who was professional, like his brother’s wife, who owned her own marketing firm. Or a doctor like his youngest sister, Julia. If the girl wasn’t a professional then she’d better be a devoted wife and mother like Ronnie.
“There’s got be to a woman out there for you,” Luis insisted.
“No one holds my interest that long,” he said.
Well, not true. One woman did—a Harley-riding, tough trauma nurse named Allison. Rafe’s mouth quirked into a smile as he remembered her—all passion and fire and vitriol.
“Ah! I see that smirk. There is someone you like! Who is it?” Luis pointed to him.
“She’s a biker and hung with an outlaw biker gang we eventually arrested for stealing jewels, running drugs and other assorted crimes. Should I invite her to Sunday dinner? Or would her boots clash with Ronnie’s designer stilettos?”
Luis gave him a speculative look. “Is this the woman who had something to do with loaning you my car for that FBI case?”
“Yes and no. She was working on the case, but under my supervision.”
“Ah. Hmm.” His cousin looked curious. Luis flashed him a knowing smile. “Working under you, eh?”
Rafe bristled at the double entendre. “Watch it, Luis. She’s not that kind of woman.”
Luis raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Yeah, she’s got you twisted in knots, coz. Good to see. You’re far too serious. You need a woman to shake you up.”
The bourbon he gulped left a trail of fire down his throat. Rafe took a deep breath to curb his temper. Luis was famous for teasing everyone. The bourbon took some of the edge off.
Family. He loved them, but damn, it was tough at times. Rafe set down his glass on the windowsill, then removed the doll from his jacket pocket and waved it.
“Excuse me. You accuse me of being too serious so I’m going to dance with my beautiful goddaughter. Or go play dolls if she’s too busy.”
Luis grinned as Rafe walked off, pocketing the doll.
Sofia had finished dancing with his brother-in-law and was taking a break to sip some sparkling cider. She spotted him and broke into a wide, welcoming smile. Much as she did when she was younger, she ran into his arms and hugged him tight.
“Uncle Rafey, I’m so glad you made it! I miss you.”
“I miss you as well.” He hugged her back.
“Let’s do a selfie.” She started to bring out her cell, then paused. “Or would that not be a good idea because you’re an agent? I don’t want to get you into trouble.”
Touched at her thoughtfulness, he smiled. “A selfie for you is fine. Just don’t post on social media because I don’t want your followers to mock your old uncle.”
They smiled into the camera together.
So tall. Beautiful. He thought of the bad things in the world and felt the familiar worry needle him.
