Love Untrusted

By Tressie Lockwood

This work is sensual but clean.

Miguel Torres left his family behind years ago and cut ties. At the time, he couldn't forgive the lies and worse that tore them all apart. Then he gets a call from his dad pleading for him to come home. His oldest brother is dead, and his two youngest brothers aren't quite grown. Against his better judgement, Miguel returns to the small town where he grew up in Stump Valley, Texas.

Jasmeka Small loves family and loves people. She never thought anyone could get under skin until Miguel Torres shows up at the ranch where she works. Miguel is angry. He's mean. He's judgemental, and he's--broken. From the first moment they meet, sparks fly, and Jasmeka wonders if she should give in to the attraction she feels for Miguel. She's in no position to fall in love with him, and he can't stand the thought of staying in Texas.

There can only be one solution...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tressie Lockwood
• Release date: Feb 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386718444

Book preview

Chapter 1

The alarm went off on Miguel’s phone, but he was already awake, his arms behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He willed himself to hit the button but didn’t move. What was this lack of motivation in him lately? No, it was more like discontent. He felt restless, but he wasn’t sure where it was coming from. One would think with the dangers of his job and the challenges it brought, there wouldn’t be room for feeling the way he did.

Vas a apagar eso? came the throaty voice next to him.

He sighed and reached over to stab the button. The room plunged into silence again. Carmen’s murmur from beneath a pillow reminded him once again of what he’d been thinking about for the last few weeks.

Should he marry her?

The phone rang, and he groaned. He reached for it and pressed the button to mute it. Something stirred in him when he recognized the area code, tightness in his chest and distaste in his mouth. He was used to ignoring numbers that came from Texas despite the fact that the caller was usually just a telemarketer. Regardless, he hated reminders of its existence.

Carmen’s hand snaked out from beneath the covers and touched his bare chest. He moved away and sat on the side of the bed. Running a hand through his hair, he wondered again. Should he marry her? Did he love her? He wasn’t too sure what love felt. Certainly not for a woman—none other than his mother.

Carmen was all right when it came to women. She never nagged. Whenever he told her he needed space, she backed off without an argument. They weren’t full-fledged girlfriend-boyfriend, more like occasional lovers. Yet, he’d kept her around for a few years. She stayed the night sometimes but not often because he preferred total silence in his home.

But you’re thinking of marrying her.

He wasn’t getting any younger, and just like any man he might like kids that would carry on his name. His mom was hinting around that she wanted grandkids. Marriage—it scared him. Then again, going into marriage without heavy emotions might be a good thing.

Carmen grabbed his wrist, her eyes still closed. He stood and strode into the bathroom to study his face in the mirror. His hair stuck up in a buzz cut, but it was getting a little too long.

I’ll need a ring, he murmured, and the sour taste in his mouth increased.

Miguel, came Carmen’s voice from the other room. He says he’s your dad.

Miguel’s stomach dropped. He stomped into the room and glared at her. She sat up in bed, letting the covers slip a little in her distraction, but his agitation didn’t let his body respond as it might have. Why did you answer my phone?

She flinched. "Lo siento. He sounds really upset."

Everything inside Miguel told him to disconnect the call and block the line it had come from. He wasn’t a coward, so he answered. What do you want?

Is that how you talk to your father?

The scratchy voice that came from years of abuse and ignoring his health was more familiar than Miguel liked. The last time he heard it might as well have been the day before. Thiago sounded like he’d been crying, but Miguel had heard that before as well. Not to mention the slurred speech.

Come home, Miguel. Come home where you belong.

Miguel swore. "You call me after all these years and ask me to come back to Texas? It’s not going to happen. I don’t know in which bottle you found the cajones to contact me, but forget it. Goodbye."

Miguel moved to stab the End button on his phone.

He’s dead!

Miguel froze and then raised the phone to his ear. Qué?

His father sobbed. "He’s dead, my baby boy is dead. Oh, what will I do, hijo? What will I do?"

Miguel sank onto the bed again and stared down at the floor. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, but they refused to come together so he could understand what he had just heard.

Miguel? his dad called over the line.

You’re saying David is dead? he breathed. David, his oldest brother, named after his dad, but everyone called him by his middle name. He was fifteen years older than Miguel, but surely not old enough to die.

It was an accident. He’s gone, and we don’t know what to do. Thiago had gone back to sobbing. His words switched between English and Spanish. While Miguel spoke both languages fluently, he could hardly make out some of what his dad was saying, including how his brother died. All he understood with clarity was Thiago’s plea over and over for him to come back to Texas, the very last place Miguel wanted to be.

After trying to get a bit more information out of Thiago, Miguel managed to end the call. He set his phone down on the bed and ran a hand over his face. Carmen touched his back.

What’s going on? Is everything all right?

He hesitated. Carmen, I think we should cool off for a while.

She said nothing, and he twisted to face her. Her expression was blank. He wasn’t surprised. She worked for the department of justice as a budget analyst, whereas he was a U. S. Marshall. She didn’t face criminals as he did, but she saw the guys often enough, men and women hardened from their line of work.

His blurted suggestion was contrary to the way he had been thinking, but she didn’t know that. He figured it was for the best since he didn’t feel for her the way a man should. I’m going back home for a while, and I’m not sure when I’ll return.

She lowered her gaze. Isn’t that a little sudden? Are you taking a leave of absence or something?

If I can get it, which I most likely will. My oldest brother died, and my youngest brothers aren’t of age yet.

She gasped. I’m sorry. You never talk about your family.

Yeah, it’s a long story. I don’t have a choice but to deal with them. It’s better if I don’t leave you with expectations. Let’s end it here.

Miguel… For a moment, he thought he heard deep emotion in her tone. You’re probably right. Call me when you get back. If I haven’t moved on, we can do dinner or whatever. We’ll always be friends, right?

He smiled. That’s what I always liked about you. You’re easygoing. You’re not like other women.

She muttered something he didn’t hear clearly, but he had already started to plan the trip home and what he would encounter when he got there. He wasn’t looking forward to it at all.

Miguel strode along the terminal leading to baggage claim. He checked his phone again. The voicemail from his father said someone named Jasmeka Small would pick him up from the airport. He had no idea who that was but planned to rent a car as soon as possible. He didn’t like depending on anyone for any reason.

After he lifted his suitcase down from the conveyor belt, he swung around to find a woman about five foot four standing before him. African American with shoulder length wavy hair and big almond shaped eyes, she offered him a bright smile and pointed a finger at him. "You’re Miguel Torres, aren’t you? I would recognize you anywhere. Hola. I’m Jasmeka, but you can call me Jas. Everyone does."

Hola. Miguel’s voice came out rougher than he had intended. Sure, he wasn’t in the best of moods, but he hadn’t meant to take it out on her. He let his gaze slip down over her form, big breasts, a petite stature, and curvy body. The Texas sun led her to wear short shorts that showed off thick thighs and exposed a lot of her smooth cocoa skin. He’d been attracted to black women before, finding them incredibly sexy, but Jasmeka took his breath away.

When he couldn’t think of anything else to say because he was busy staring at her, she waited for him to have his fill. That surprised him. He snapped back to himself, amazed that his wandering eyes didn’t tick her off.

"Uh, si, I’m Miguel. You work for Thiago?"

Her eyes widened, and her eyebrows rose. Wow, you do call him by his name. I’d heard… I’m the cook actually. You’ll be enjoying my delicious food while you’re here. Do you have anything for me to carry?

She certainly wasn’t shy or modest. He’d give her that. Once more, he swept his gaze over her. There was no way she’d be able to carry his bag, and why would he need her to? She wasn’t much bigger than a preteen. Besides, he had packed his weapon in the bag, and he wouldn’t feel right until he had strapped it on again.

I have it. Just lead the way.

She nodded. Miguel paused a moment before moving into position beside her to take in the sway of her hips and the roundness of her rear. He chided himself for a second and then dropped the resistance. Why shouldn’t he look? After all, he and Carmen weren’t together anymore.

And yet I’d been thinking of marrying her. It went to show he knew nothing of love. He dismissed thoughts of his ex-lover and focused on getting through the next few days. With any luck, his brother’s funeral would go without a hitch, and he could settle any other issues quickly.

They reached the pickup that Jasmeka drove to the airport, and he held his hand out to her. Mind if I drive?

She blinked at him and then shrugged. Miguel waited for her to climb in on the passenger side of the truck and started the engine. He recalled the route from the airport to his father’s ranch, and it wasn’t more than an hour and a half away.

Jasmeka