Hot Like Fire (4 page)

"She's a singer from Colombia," Garcelle told her
as she slid her hands into the tight back pockets of
her jeans.

"Ooh," she said as if enlightened. "My cousin
Cootie lives in Columbia."

It was Garcelle's turn to scrunch up her face.

"Kimani? Where are you?" a woman called out
from the front of the small store.

"That's my mother. Bye, Beyonce look-alike," the
little girl called over her shoulder before skipping
away.

"Adios." Garcelle just shook her head as she renewed her search for the pinto beans.

"That man is too damn fine."

"Yes, girl. Lord, why you make him so fine?"

"Girl, he makes the poom-poom go whoomp-
whoomp."

Garcelle's thick eyebrows arched a bit as she
heard two women in the next aisle laugh like they
were watching a comedienne do stand-up. Their
voices sounded familiar. Holtsville was a small town,
and she didn't doubt that she knew them.

"And he all up in that big ole house, just begging
a sistah to come take care of him."

"Well, you gone have to beat this sistah to the
punch, 'cause I got the lips and the hips to get the
job done."

Garcelle had to admit that they had her interest
piqued. She was sure they sounded like Rita and
Pita Kooley-a set of loud and rambunctious twins,
who lived in the trailer next door to her family's.
Between the two of them, they had six children
piled into a three-bedroom single-wide.

"I've had my eye on that man since we were in high
school."

"Hell, me, too. Matter of fact, I'll take any one of
them brothers."

"You got that right."

Garcelle moved down the aisle to get into the
short line for the cashier. When she heard the
voices come up behind her, she gave in to temptation and glanced back. Pita and Rita, just like she'd
thought.

Both were dressed in skintight leggings and tank
tops that revealed their curvy frames. It was quite
obvious they knew their assets and weren't afraid to
show them.

"You know we ain't the only ones with our eyes
on him," Pita said.

"Him moving back to his house is a sign and a
half that he's ready to stop mourning and ready to
start living, baby," Rita added.

Garcelle sat the can on the chipped and scratched
wooden counter as she dug in her back pocket for
her money.

"Are y'all talkin' 'bout Kade Strong?" Keisha, the
cashier, asked. Her shoulder-length hair was dyed
the shocking shade of royal blue.

Garcelle's heart slammed against her chest like a
head-on collision. Kade. Visions of her crimson
dress swirling around her like a parasol flashed
before her, followed by an image of Kade moving
closer to the dance floor to watch her, with the
most intense eyes.

"Sure are," Pita said in a drawn-out voice.

Keisha paused for a second, with a faraway look in
her eyes. "I heard he's moving back into his house."

"Sure is," Rita assured her. "But all these heifers
thinking 'bout plit-plotting might as well fall back,
'cause I got some tricks up my sleeve for that brotha."

Pita sucked air between her teeth. "Well, chick,
you ain't the only one with some tricks ... or treats."

The ladies all laughed together as Garcelle accepted her change and the brown paper bag holding her can of beans. She left them gossiping
animatedly as she stepped out of the store.

Kade moved back in his house, she thought as she
dropped the bag into the basket attached to her
ten-speed bike. Good for him.

Anyone who wasn't muy loco could see that Kade
was an attractive man. During their first meeting that
day at Kahron's house, Garcelle had found her pulse
racing-even as she put him in his place about insinuating that she was a lowly thief. Never had she
wanted to slap a man and kiss him all at once.

While working for Kahron and spending time
around the family, she'd learned Kade's story, and
her heart ached for the man, who seemed lost and
withdrawn without his wife. The only time he seemed
to open up was around his family ... especially
Kadina. He was one man who loved and adored his
daughter. That was one thing that had softened her
heart toward the man, who could seem very cold and
distant.

One thing the crazy women had said was true: his
decision to move back into his beautiful home was
a sign that he was prepared to move on ... the best
thing that he could do under the circumstances.

Garcelle rode the bike down the long and bumpy
dirt road leading to the trailer park. She enjoyed
riding her bike as long as her destination wasn't too
far. Otherwise, she flew around town in her old Volkswagen Cabriolet.

She was just turning into their front yard when a
black Chevy Caprice slowed to a halt beside her. The darkly tinted driver's side window went down,
but Garcelle didn't need to see the driver to know
it was her ex, Joaquin Consuelo.

Garcelle gave him an eye roll and continued
riding on.

His car continued to roll slowly beside her.

She slammed on the brakes. "What do you want,
Joaquin?" she snapped as she put her feet on the
ground and balanced the bike between her legs.

"You," he answered simply.

Garcelle arched her eyebrows, with plenty of attitude, as she felt her anger rise. "When you had
me, you wanted other women, remember?" she
asked, her accent thickening with her irritation.

"Garcelle, I never cheated on you," he said, placing the car in park.

A year into their relationship, Joaquin, through
hard work, had saved up enough money to start his
own landscaping business. And it flourished quickly.
More money than he was used to started to roll in,
and things between Garcelle and him started to
change.

"No, you just broke up with me because you
didn't want to be tied down," she snapped. "The
dinero and your business went to your head. The
women were crawling all over you, and you wanted
anything in a skirt. What? The grass-or should I
say ass-wasn't better, like you thought?"

"I just wanted to check on you and see how
you're doing."

"I'm doing fine," she told him, climbing back
onto her bike.

"You looking fine as hell, too," he said, his eyes
taking in her long, shapely legs and round buttocks in
the cutoff jean shorts she wore. "Damn fine, bonita."

Garcelle hated that her pulse raced. She absolutely
hated it.

Joaquin was gorgeous. He had angular features,
a tall frame, and those dark and swarthy Marc
Anthony type of gorgeous looks. Garcelle had
fallen for him hard the first time he asked for her
number. They had been inseparable during the last
year of the relationship, and his sudden declaration
two months ago that he wanted his freedom had
rocked Garcelle's world. She was just starting to feel
fully recovered. She was just starting to feel like the
old Garcelle.

No matter how fine he was. No matter how good
she knew the loving was. No matter how much she
used to miss him and crave him like a drug. There
was no more Joaquin and Garcelle. They were finito.

Garcelle pushed off on her bike. "Adios, Joaquin,"
she called over her shoulder.

"Garcelle-"

"A-di-6s! "

Garcelle cruised into the front yard, jumped off
her bike, and parked it next to her car, which was
in dire need of a paint job and some other repairs.
It was over twenty years old, but she loved it because
she'd bought it with her own hard-earned money.

She barely took a second to grab her bag from
the basket before she dashed into the house. She
didn't even waste her time to see if Joaquin had left
her alone as she'd ordered. She had a dinner of
chili con carne to finish before her familia got
home for the evening. Although she said she was
tired of taking care of them, Garcelle knew they deserved a home-cooked meal after a hard day of
work at the Circle S Ranch. Even little Paco would
spend his summer days helping out.

Garcelle added the beans to the chili and stirred
it slowly before she tasted the broth. She added a
little more crushed red pepper and salt before she
replaced the lid and turned the electric burner on
low. She was just gathering the ingredients for a
quick corn bread when there was a knock at the
front door.

Thinking it was a persistent Joaquin, Garcelle
slammed the spoon on the counter, sending bits of
the cornmeal batter flying. She turned and stormed
out of the kitchen on her long, shapely legs and
snatched the front door open. "Are you stupid or just
crazy ... ?"

The rest of her tirade trailed off into nothing as
she looked up into the surprised face of Kade Strong.

Garcelle rose up on her toes to look over his
shoulder. There was no sign of Joaquin or his car.
Dropping back down on her feet, she gave him a
weak smile. "Sorry. I thought you were someone
else," she explained, with a faint smile, as she leaned
against the open door.

"I can come back," he offered, sliding his large
and strong hands into the pockets of his tan Dickies
pants.

Garcelle reached out to lightly touch his arm.
Her eyes didn't miss the way he flinched slightly
from her touch. She instantly withdrew her hand.
"How can I help you?" she asked coolly even as she
noticed the descending sun illuminating off the big
silver curls in his hair.

"You could pretend my being here doesn't annoy
you," he said in a dry tone.

Garcelle bit back the smile that threatened to
spread across her face. "Well, hello, Kade Strong. It
is so splendiferous to see you on this glorious day. I was just saying how wonderful it would be to see
Kade Strong, and here you are. I'm so lucky," she
said in a loud, exaggerated voice, her tongue rolling
over his last name.

He smiled. It was slow and even kind of hesitant,
but it was a smile, nonetheless. "That's some bigtime overkill, but I'll take it over the sour attitude
you give me most times."

"Being called a thief makes you, how do you
say ... sour," she told him as she crossed her arms
over her chest.

"Damn, you sure can hold a grudge," he balked,
with an incredulous expression, as he looked down
at her.

Garcelle looked up at him, with a soft smile,
which she didn't bother to hide. "No, I just like to
give you a hard time, Kade Strong," she admitted.

He pulled his hand from his pocket and extended it to her. "Truce?" he asked.

He really is a beautiful man, she thought as she slid
her hand into his. "Truce," she agreed just as warm
shots of electricity radiated across her hand and up
her arm to harden her nipples into tight buds. Garcelle looked down at his bronzed skin against the
soft caramel of her own. The warmth continued to
spread across her body with ease.

She snatched her hand away.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Uh, no. Uh-uh. Everything's good," she said, looking up at him as she wiped a sudden flood of sweat
from her forehead. "How can I help you, Kade?"

"I'm moving back into my house this week-"

Garcelle snorted. "So I heard," she said dryly.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

Garcelle forced a smile. "Nothing."

Kade shifted his weight on the porch and cleared
his throat. "Anyway, I need help with Kadina this
summer, and Bianca said you might be interested,
since you only work for them like once a week for
half a day."

"Like a ninera?" she asked.

"A what?" Kade asked.

Garcelle laughed. "You call it a ... a nanny.
Sometimes it's easier for me to say certain things in
Spanish."

"It's funny that you look black, but you're Mexican.

Garcelle rolled her eyes. "I'm Dominican. Latinos come from more places than just Mexico or
Puerto Rico. Okay?"

Kade licked his lips and looked apologetic. "I
didn't mean any disrespect."

Garcelle laughed softly as she reached up to lightly
pat his cheek like he was a child ... a big, six-foot fiveinch, muscular, good-looking child. "Don't worry.
We'll have all summer, while I'm watching Kadina, to
teach you more about Latinos, Kade Strong."

"So you'll take the job?" he asked as his eyes
locked with hers.

"Si," she answered, with a nod.

"Good," he said, with a nod of his own. "Can you
start Monday?"

"Si. „

"Great. Bye then, Garcelle." Kade turned to leave.

"Adios, Kade Strong." Her eyes drifted down his
strong back to his tight buttocks in the uniform
pants he wore. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Kade turned suddenly.

Garcelle jerked her eyes up to his face as a warm
blush flooded her cheeks.

"One more thing, Garcelle," he said, his eyes
sparkling with humor. "Are you always going to call
me by my full name?"

Garcelle stepped back and began to close the
front door. "Si," she said playfully before closing the
door.

She leaned back against the closed door and
breathed out through pursed lips as she waited for
her heartbeat to slow down.

"jUno ... dos ... tres ... cuatro ... cinco ...
seis ... siete ... ocho ... nueve ... diez!"

Garcelle smiled with pleasure in the rearview
mirror as she looked at Kadina, who sat buckled in
the backseat of her car. "Very good. You learn so very
quickly. Your father will be proud when you recite
the numbers for him when he gets home tonight."

Kadina nodded as she sipped from the bottle of
fruit punch she held. "He already says I'm starting to
talk like you. I'm picking up your ashent," she said,
with pride.

Garcelle laughed. "That's ac-cent," she stressed.

Kadina laughed as well. "Yup, that's what he said."

Garcelle steered her Cabrio carefully as she drove
them to Kahron and Bianca's to deliver the meals
she'd cooked for them at Kade's. She would clean the
house and warm up one of the dishes for their dinner.