Page 35 of Lust in Translation

“I’m so worried about Coal,” I say, changing the subject, trying not to think about how my skin is on fire where his hand just grabbed me. “I know it’s stupid to be this upset about an animal, but he got out because I was such a mess last night and didn’t close the door. It was all my fault. The first thing I was supposed to care for after Noel passed, and I can’t even manage to get it right.”

“He should have stayed in the house. They call it survival of the fittest for a reason. Some animals are stupid. The cat is stupid.”

“Why does that not make me feel better? At all.”

Leo chuckles and ushers me forward into a side door. “Don’t worry. You’ll find him. Watch your step.” Holding the door for me, I step through and shake the snow from my shoulders and hair.

When we get to the cage room it’s mostly empty, but I hear men laughing and joking somewhere in the huge expanse of the room. It reminds me of a black, dicey warehouse. Something out of a horror movie, the cages are better equipped to store people instead of guns and cold weather gear. We pass by Long’s cage. I know it’s his because each locker has a name plate on the front. “Sexy Simmons,” Long barks out. “You are speaking my language, baby,” he rasps out in perfect Spanish, a sarcastic hint to his tone letting me know he’s joking.

Leo laughs and tells him to shut up, using English and harsh, humorous words. I say something quickly in Spanish I know the men won’t catch and follow Leo to the end of the long row. “I’m here,” he says, opening the gate and using a key to unlock the padlock. There’s plenty of room for both of us. “Also, how do you know how small Long’s dick is?” Leo asks, pressing his lips together into a firm line as he opens a big, rubber container and begins unloading things from it.

“You heard me?” I ask, laying anI am innocentpalm across my chest.

He laughs, shrugging. “He does have a small dick.”

“He’s a funny man. I get it. Doesn’t mean I can’t be annoyed by it,” I reply.

Leo tells me a story to retrieve his friend from the negative mental place I’ve sent him. We’re both laughing by the end of the story and I feel bad for what I said about his penis to begin with. Long is his good friend with a raunchy sense of humor. Everyone can’t be politically correct, I suppose. Leo pulls out an electric warming pad from a different box. “Here it is,” he says, tossing it into the storage bin he just emptied.

“Thank you so much, Callaway. It would have taken me over an hour to get to the hardware store and back, and I want to get home and start looking as soon as I can.” I sit on a folding chair. “I should have known you’d have all of this stuff. It’s like you guys are your own hardware store.”

“Pretty much. The gear we’re issued is extensive. A lot of it we never use. Guess it’s better to be prepared just in case we need to save a cat, right?”

Even though I feel like crying, I laugh. “Right,” I reply.

The urge to hug him arises. I stand and we’re in close-enough proximity that leaning in would be the easiest thing in the world. I could reach out and touch him. Because I can’t control my hand, I finger the collar of his jacket and dust an imaginary piece of fuzz from his lapel.

He shakes his head, the rest of his body remaining shock still. “Finding excuses to touch me?” Leo grunts, lashes lowering as he peers down at me.

I break his gaze and watch my hand instead. I slide it down, touching each button as I go. “No. No excuses. I’m touching your shirt. Not you.”

He swallows hard and sneaks a glance over his shoulder. We’re far enough away from the other men. There are about thirty, nine-foot-by-nine-foot cages separating us. He meets my eyes. Leo licks his lips. “Hey, how about we go set this up? Get Coal back home before it really starts dumping on us?” Logical words, yes, but they’re seeping out of his perfect, forbidden lips. I’m transfixed. Trapped. An animal caged.

“Kendall, please. Don’t look at me like that.” Leo pulls away from me and picks up the storage bin with the heating pad inside. “I’m serious,” he deadpans, the big container creating an ocean of space between our bodies.

I narrow my eyes. “Like what? Like you look at me?”

His burly chest heaves as he blows out a long breath. “Like you want to fuck me. For God’s sake, you make being your friend the most challenging experience on planet Earth.”

“Oh, but it’s okay for you to look at me like you want to fuck me?”

“Don’t say fuck, Kid.” Leo walks out of his cage, holding the door open for me to exit, the box held under one arm. “The difference is I can control myself,” Leo hisses, teeth clenched, voice low. “You’re out of control.”

“And you can’t control me.”

He bites his lip. “I want to. Trust me, do I want to fucking control you. In all ways. But newsflash, you’re a married woman.”

My legs shake as my body and mind war with each other. “Go be uncontrollable with Adam. That’s what you’re saying? That’s what you want me to do?”

“No,” Leo yells, and then looks down the hall, setting the box down. Long and the buddy he was joking with stopped talking loudly so I know they’re listening or trying to hear what we’re talking about. “I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my mouth.” Leo blows out an irritated breath and runs a free hand through his hair. “Let’s go find Coal, okay?”

I’m frustrated. “Way to use my cat to get out of this conversation.”

“Turning the same tricks you do, then, aren’t I? That’s your M.O., so I’ve learned from the best.”

I spin on him, pressing a finger into the center of his chest. “Screw you, Leo. You don’t know anything at all.”

“Don’t I?” He opens his arms—challenging.

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