Sunday Morning, 6:45 AM
Santos woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. She sat up, realized she was naked, grabbed Ramirez’s shirt from the floor, and slowly walked into the kitchen.
Ramirez stood at her stove, wearing nothing cooking breakfast.
Santos: “You always cook naked?”
Detective Ramirez: “Only for you but I’m a man of many talents.”
Santos: “If the grits are as good as your other skills with no lumps, I might have to keep you.”
Detective Ramirez: “That’s the plan.”
He plated food for both of them, and they ate at her small kitchen table, comfortable in the morning after.
Santos: “So, what happens now?”
Detective Ramirez: “Well, I was thinking we could shower—together, obviously—and then maybe round two. Or is it round five? I lost count.”
Santos: “I meant with us. With work. The Henderson case is over, so you’ll be going back to your precinct.”
Ramirez set down his fork and took her hand.
Detective Ramirez: “Santos, I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you want me to. Captain Rodriguez already knows we are together—the entire department knows, thanks to your tsunami announcement—it’s all out in the open.”
Santos: “But the long distance—”
Detective Ramirez: “Just thirty minutes After this? After you? I’d drive three hours each way if it were meant to see you again.”
Santos: “You are serious about this.”
Detective Ramirez: “As a heart attack. Santos, I know it’s fast. I know it’s crazy. But I also know that what I feel for you is real. And I want to see where this goes. If you do.”
Santos looked at him—this man who’d crashed into her life like a force of nature, who had turned her world upside down, who had shown her pleasure she didn’t know existed.
But more than that—this man who’d saved her life, who had brought her flowers, he cooked her breakfast, who was looking at her like she was the most important thing in his world.
Santos: “Okay.”
Detective Ramirez: “Okay?”
Santos: “Yeah. Let’s do this. Let’s be crazy together. But Ramirez?”
Detective Ramirez: “Yeah?”
Santos: “If you ever handcuff me to another stairwell without following through immediately, I will hurt you.”
Ramirez started to grinned.
Detective Ramirez: “Deal. Although speaking of handcuffs…”
Santos: “Really? Already?”
Detective Ramirez: “What can I say? You inspire me.”
Santos: “You are insane.”
Detective Ramirez: “And you love every bit of it.”
Santos couldn’t argue with that.
Because she did. She absolutely did.
Storm season had officially begun.
And Santos was ready to weather every hurricane, tsunami, and apocalypse that came her way.
As long as they all came in the form of Detective Ramirez and his very, very talented tongue.
[TO BE CONTINUED…]