Cobb (Lighthouse Security Investigations #9) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,5
been treated differently his entire childhood and adolescence, and the military offered an equalizing opportunity for him to just be whatever he chose to make of himself. And he’d found himself not wanting Josie to recognize that she was talking to a relative of the governor. He swallowed a snort. For all the good it did me.
But, with Mrs. Sanchez, like his family, he would always be Jorge. Smiling down at her, he replied, “I had socialized with everyone I needed to.”
She walked over and patted his arm, her head inclined toward the slice of pie. “I’ll wager that’s better than any of the fancy food they had at the party.”
Taking a large bite and not having to fake his enjoyment, he nodded, moaning in delight as he swallowed. “You’re right. Nothing’s better than your cooking. But why are you still here? Do you need a ride home?”
She shook her head and smiled. “I wanted to make sure everything was perfect for your father’s family birthday party tomorrow. Since I was working late on the cake, your mother suggested I stay in the downstairs guest room overnight so that I wouldn’t have to travel back and forth. I was almost going to bed when I heard someone in here and thought I would check to see who was sneaking in.” Patting his arm again, she turned and began walking out of the room, calling over her shoulder, “Enjoy your pie, but make sure to rinse your dish before you go upstairs.”
Shaking his head, he grinned. “Yes, ma’am,” he said with affection. Finishing the pie and dutifully rinsing the dish, he headed to his bedroom. He pulled out the tie that had been shoved into his pocket and draped it over a hanger. He did the same with the tuxedo, knowing his father’s valet would have it cleaned and pressed tomorrow, ready for it to be taken back when he left New Mexico. Stalking into the en suite bathroom, he stripped while letting the shower water heat.
The delicate scent of orange and flowers hit him just before he stepped into the water. It was the scent he’d noticed with Josie, and for a second, he hated to wash it off. But knowing he’d never see her again, he scrubbed his body and hair, although he couldn’t scrub her from his mind. Beautiful, elegant. I’m not her type… she’s not my type… what the hell did that mean?
Stepping out of the shower, he toweled off before pulling on a clean pair of boxers. As the condensation lifted from the mirror, he stared at the reflection. Black hair. Dark eyes. Full lips. Broad nose. Heavy five o’clock shadow. His features were formed from a variety of genetics. His mother’s mother was Native American, and her father was Mexican American. On his father’s side of the family, his grandmother immigrated from Italy as a child, and his grandfather was of German descent.
He had no idea what type Josie was referring to but decided he didn’t give a fuck. When his father had served as a U.S. Senator, Cobb had certainly experienced times when racial slurs had been directed toward him and his mom. But seeing it, knowing it exists, and living through it were different things. Thinking back to his days in prep school, he shook his head. Some experiences had been wonderful, but other days he’d rather forget.
Walking back into the bedroom, he twisted off the cap to the bottle of water and drank deeply. Tired, he was ready to go back to his house in Maine, although he looked forward to the next day. His father’s annual birthday charity gala would be over, and it would just be the family at home. All of his grandparents would come along with some other relatives, and he knew he’d have a good time. But still, New Mexico was no longer home and hadn’t been for many years. He longed for the cool forests and ocean waves of Maine.
Two Weeks Later
Moose’s Bar was quite different from the gala event Cobb had attended earlier in the month. It was run by a crotchety veteran who’d served in Desert Storm, and his father had started the bar when he came home from the Vietnam War. Cobb was fairly certain that the interior hadn’t changed much in the past fifty years. The scuffed wooden floor and dented bar were original. It wasn’t fancy and some weekend nights got rowdy, but it made for a great place to unwind.