Page 43 of For the Love of Animals

“How long will I be in Sonora for?”

“A month. Maybe two.”

“But my contract ends in three weeks.”

“You’ll be renewing, yes?”

“No.”

He turned into a statue, skin mottled like marble and his coffee cup paused halfway to his mouth. “No? What do you mean, no?”

“I got married at the weekend, and I’m moving to the United States.”

“You? Married to an American?”

Why did he sound so damn surprised? Was it because I’d somehow betrayed my country by hooking up with a foreigner, or the mere thought that I might not be the glacial virgin he’d always assumed?

I shrugged, a gesture reminiscent of my dear husband. “Yes.”

Captain P shook his head, as if this scene were a figment of his imagination. “Where am I meant to find another sniper in three weeks?”

“I’m sure being the resourceful man that you are, you won’t have any problems.”

And perhaps if he’d kept up to date on his paperwork or spoken to me as a person or taken his head out of his own ass occasionally, my departure wouldn’t have been such a shock. I had no sympathy whatsoever.

“Are you being sarcastic?” he asked.

“Of course not, sir.”

He shuffled some papers around, and his mouth set into a hard line. “Then you leave me no choice but to change my plans. The day after tomorrow, you will go to the south instead.”

“The south?”

“Yes, Carmen. The army battalion in Campeche needs help to disrupt drug supply routes.” Those thin lips curved into a nasty grin. “Don’t forget your bug spray.”

“It might not be as bad as you think, querida.”

Nate glanced up from his laptop as I paced the apartment, stepping around the piles of luggage he’d already packed.

“They don’t need me in Campeche. We don’t even have a GAFE team there. Captain Pendejo’s just doing it to spite me.”

“Captain Pendejo?” Nate chuckled. “I like that.”

“I’d like it more if he was the one heading south to get eaten alive in the jungle. Last time I was there, I got bitten fifty-seven times. And the mosquito spray melted my shoes. Fuck only knows what it does to my skin.”

“If I was a mosquito, I’d pick you too.”

My eyes rolled all of their own accord. “You’re so damn romantic.”

“Three weeks and it’ll be over.”

“The longest three weeks of my freaking life.”

Nate caught my hand as I walked past and smiled as he brought it to his lips. “Stay positive.” He closed the laptop and pulled me closer so I nestled between his legs. “Want me to take your mind off things?”

I nodded. It wasn’t only my upcoming trip, but also the call I’d just received from Grandma. One last goodbye because she thought she wouldn’t wake up tomorrow. I tried to stay upbeat, but it was hard to offer comfort when she sounded so miserable.

The noise of my zipper broke me out of my thoughts, and Nate pushed his computer to the side before lifting me onto the table. I’d have married him for that magic tongue alone. Ten minutes later, I’d forgotten Captain P and drug smugglers and family and my move to the US. I only cared about that little knot of nerves between my legs and what my husband was doing to it. Fuck. My back arched off the table as stars burst behind my eyes, and before I came back down to earth, Nate carried me over to the bed. Staying in a tiny apartment had definite advantages.

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