Everything was beyond cheesy, but whoever had sent this knew that any kind of bubbly right now would unravel the knots in my neck and shoulders as if they were made of satin instead of steel.
I gulped the first chintzy glassful of slightly sour champagne and poured another.
The showy flowers surrounding the potent posy of tea roses weren't scented, so I set them on the dresser in front of the mirror. I didn't linger to probe any images in it, including mine.
There was another bottle of bubbly, this one full of pink powder.
I imported it into the bathroom and took a long, foamy, pink bath.
By the time I got out, wrapped in a towel with my braids clipped atop my head, the safety chain was off its slide. I didn't want to know who and how, but Quicksilver was obviously out on patrol and Ric was waiting on one of the plastic chairs. He'd taken off the visiting-social-services tie, and I liked the view through his top three open shirt buttons. Also his smile.
"Sometimes," he said, "Mom-shrink gets way too lost in her head ... and yours and mine. I owe her respect, but I don't buy that my absence will make you feel better than my presence tonight."
I was speechless. "She thought I needed to be alone here all night?"
"She thought you needed to be left alone," he said. "Dios, Del. I came back to say you're safe with me. We're camping partners tonight, no more. I just want to be with you, mi virgen."
"Virtual Virgin," I corrected. "That's ... really noble, Ric." I went to sit on his lap, my thick plaits tumbling to my shoulders as the savvy familiar slithered down into position as a slender ankle bracelet. "You responsible for the homey spa package, hombre?"
"Cheesy," he admitted, "but - "
"Sweet," I said, giving him a peck on the lips.
"And I do like the braids. Muy exotico." He diplomatically neglected to mention that they evoked an ancient Egyptian wig and our second most dangerous, latest adventure.
"Mmm." He nuzzled my neck. "You're so warm and soft and scented."
"You're so warm and hard and drenched with virtuous lust."
"I just want to comfort you, Del. Nothing more. I swear."
"It's not like you to fall short in the romance department, Montoya," I drawled.
He seemed surprised, but my mood had peaked the moment he entered the room. All the nightmares of the last two days had shot into the distance like a fey maze. Mama Helena had been wrong and Ric right. I'd needed some pampering to ease my stress and now I was buzzed on cheap champagne and a fierce willfulness to be taken extreme advantage of.
"Look, Ric. What I was put through years ago was inexcusable, painful, and traumatic, but now I know the truth. I'd imagined a lot worse than an insensitive bureaucracy resorting to the sexual double standard."
"Delilah, are you sure you're all right with it?"
"Not ... yet, but it has nothing to do with us. I'm supposed to be unfairly punished again? No sack time with you? I'm feeling like a new woman. Have you got the moxie to get me over on my back for the first time and crush me into the mattress with your manly needs?" I challenged before his lips hushed mine.
I could say he groaned, he growled, he rasped, he husked, but what he did was say nothing, just moved his lips to the sweet spot on my nape he'd made his signature start and stop of our erotic journeys. The moment they touched my damp skin I folded like a bad poker hand onto the trinket-laden bed. He was already there, and rolled me over on top of him.
"You taste so sugary, so salty, so sharp," he murmured into my neck, "just sleeping partners for now, I swear."
"With benefits," I said, laughing softly until we were silent but not still, my lips glued to his neck scar, until he came and I fell asleep from emotional exhaustion and, my current BFF, cheap champagne, satisfied. There was nothing anybody had done to me in the past to stop me from being what I wanted to be in the future.
I AWOKE SLOWLY, still habitually lying on my right side, aware of dim light illuminating the bed. Ric was awake, watching me, his head braced on his elbow and hand, the soft light from the parking lot caressing the sharp lines of his forehead, nose, and cheekbones. He belonged on a twenty-foot-high pillar