Framing Felipe (16 page)

comfortable.
We’re
almost
fully
booked
because
we’re
hosting
a
family
reunion
group,
so

FRAMING FELIPE
–
61
–
Holley Trent

that
means
everything
is
operating
on
a
schedule
tonight.
No
room
service,
but
you’re

welcome
to
help
yourself
in
the
kitchen
as
always.”
He
turned
on
the
heel
of
his
Converse
to

retreat
into
the
tavern,
but
stopped
and
spun
back
around
to
point
at
them.
“Uh,

housekeeping
is
still
working
on
clearing
out
the
last
couple
of
rooms.
It’ll
be
a
while
before

your
rooms—”

“
Room
,”
Felipe
interjected.

Sarah
rolled
her
eyes.

Eric
shifted
his
weight
to
his
other
leg.
“Right,
your
room.
It’s
gonna
be
a
bit
longer.
Just

leave
your
bags
in
the
truck
and
housekeeping
will
put
them
outside
your
room
after

they’re
done.”

He
turned
once
more,
and
Felipe
and
Sarah
followed
him
into
the
kitchen.

“What
happened?”
Sarah
asked.
“You’re
usually
a
bit
more
efficient
than
that.”

Eric
tossed
his
towel
onto
the
counter
and
accepted
a
bowl
of
whole
red
apples
from

the
line
cook
as
he
passed
by.
Sarah
knew
they’d
end
up
in
the
famous
strudel.

“Thanks
for
noticing.
If
you
don’t
know,
that
means
Astrid
hasn’t
heard
about
it
either.

Keep
it
that
way,
will
ya?”

Eric
wasn’t
particularly
trouble-‐prone,
although
he
wasn’t
one
to
back
down
from
a

fight.
Although
Astrid
was
the
far
more
belligerent
of
the
two,
Eric
had
his
own
reputation

for
brawling.
He
didn’t
start
the
fights,
but
he
sure
finished
them.
When
it
came
to
his

business,
though,
he
kept
all
that
stuff
squeaky
clean.
Sarah
couldn’t
imagine
what
kind
of

kink
would
have
him
so
far
behind
schedule.

“What
happened?”

Eric
flicked
his
paring
knife
over
the
first
of
the
apples.
“Did
something
dumb
and

signed
up
with
one
of
those
daily
deal
companies.
Offered
a
fifty-‐percent
coupon
since

we’re
in
a
shoulder
season.
Had
a
bunch
of
folks
visiting
who
would
have
never
otherwise

afforded
it.
Trashed
the
place.”

Sarah
cringed.
Yeah,
she
wouldn’t
tell
Astrid.
The
teasing
would
be
far
too
epic.

Eric
pushed
the
bowl
down
the
counter
toward
Felipe
and
cocked
up
an
eyebrow.
“If

y’all
don’t
want
to
go
relax
before
dinner,
feel
free
to
grab
a
knife
and
start
peeling.”

Sarah
did
reach
for
a
knife,
but
Felipe
said,
“Nope,”
and
pulled
her
in
closer
as
he

started
his
stride
away
from
the
sweltering
kitchen.

FRAMING FELIPE
–
62
–
Holley Trent

When
they’d
cleared
the
kitchen
and
dark
dining
area
to
enter
the
airy
great
room,
she

tried,
finally,
to
duck
out
from
under
Felipe’s
arm.
Enough
with
the
play-‐acting.

Felipe
sank
into
one
overstuffed
sofa
Sarah
knew
to
be
particularly
sleep-‐inducing
and

pulled
Sarah
down
on
his
lap.

“Quit
struggling.
Do
you
have
somewhere
you
need
to
be?”
He
leaned
back
so
his
neck

was
against
the
armrest,
and
his
ankles
were
crossed
at
the
other
end
of
the
sofa.
Looping

his
arms
around
her
waist,
he
pulled
her
down
on
top
of
him
and
rolled
her
over.

Because
she
felt
like
he
expected
it,
she
struggled
somewhat
ineffectually
to
get
up.
He

was
wiry,
but
strong,
and
she
was
tired.

She
sighed.
“I’d
like
to
have
my
own
seat,
is
all.”
Truth
be
told,
he
made
a
pretty
nice

pillow.

“Just
be
still.”
He
pulled
her
shoulders
down,
so
her
torso
was
pressed
against
his,
and

her
face
nuzzled
against
his
neck.

“What
are
you
doing?”

“You
need
to
relax.”

Yeah,
she
was
getting
there.
Still…
“I
can
do
that
over
there.”
She
pointed
to
the

flanking
sofa—a
plaid
one
Tamara
regularly
claimed
as
a
favorite.
It
had
good,
firm

cushions
and
was
situated
for
a
perfect
view
of
the
television.

“Maybe
I’m
cold
and
need
a
body
to
keep
me
warm.”

“You’re
full
of
shit,”
she
murmured
against
his
neck.
His
warm,
musky
neck.
Her
lips

were
gliding
over
his
Adam’s
apple
before
she
realized
what
she
was
doing.
She
pulled
back

and
tried
to
push
up
on
her
arms.

He
held
her
still.
“Do
that
again,”
he
said,
and
there
was
a
note
of
command
in
his
voice.

“Feels
nice.”

“No.
I
shouldn’t
have
done
it
the
first
time.
Let
me
up.”

“Just
stay
where
you
are.
Get
used
to
it.
Is
it
so
terrible,
being
there?”

“Terror
wouldn’t
be
the
word
I’d
use
to
describe
it.
I
just…”

His
fingertips
danced
down
to
her
waist,
and
lingered
at
the
small
of
her
back.
They

tickled
the
stretch
of
exposed
skin
between
her
shirt
bottom
and
her
pants’
waistband,
and

Sarah
drew
in
a
sharp
breath,
her
gut
and
things
much
lower
contracting.

FRAMING FELIPE
–
63
–
Holley Trent

No,
it
wasn’t
that
she
found
him
abhorrent
at
all.
It
was
just…she
didn’t
know
how
they

could
possibly
sustain
such
a
coupling.
Or
if
he’d
even
want
to.
She
didn’t
do
casual,
and

although
her
attitude
sometimes
had
a
tinge
of
misandry
about
it,
the
truth
was,
she

tolerated
men
just
fine.
At
least
the
ones
she
considered
her
equals—Eric,
Patrick,
her

father,
her
brother.
It
was
a
short
list,
really.

Given
what
she
was,
though,
she
wasn’t
sure
she
was
capable
of
the
give
and
take

required
to
keep
any
sort
of
real
relationship
from
exploding
upon
impact.

It’d
been
a
long
time
since
she’d
even
tried.

And
Felipe?
Well,
he
was
a
circus
performer
with
no
home
and
a
lot
of
baggage.

“
Bésame
.”

“I
don’t
want
to
kiss
you,”
she
lied.

“Why
not?”

Of
course
he
would
ask
that.
She
didn’t
have
a
good
response,
so
did
the
next
best
thing

and
turned
the
tables
on
him.
“Why
do
you
want
me
to
kiss
you?”

He
didn’t
pause
at
all
.
“Eventually,
I
think,
you’ll
give
all
of
yourself
to
me.
Your
lips
are

just
the
start.”

She
pushed
up
onto
her
elbows
and
stared
at
his
placid
expression.
Cocky
bastard.
She

didn’t
know
if
she
wanted
to
smack
him
or…

He
narrowed
his
eyes.
“Is
this
uncomfortable
for
you?”

She
had
to
think
about
it—really,
truly
think.
It
wasn’t
her
proximity
to
him
that
set
off

her
sensors.
Having
her
body
pressed
against
his
wasn’t
really
that
bad
a
place
to
be.
What

really
set
her
alarm
bells
off
was
the
little
voice
in
her
head
whispering
that
if
she
gave
him

an
inch,
she’d
want
to
give
him
a
mile.
She
would
give
him
everything
she
had,
and
she
had

no
idea
why.

She
didn’t
like
that.

“Let
me
up.
I
need
to
check
on
Eric.
Maybe
help
with
those
apples,
if
it’ll
speed
things

along.
I’m
hungry.”

He
let
go
of
her,
but
didn’t
budge
from
his
reclined
state.
There
was
an
intensity
in
his

eyes
she
didn’t
like.
It
told
her
he
wasn’t
done
with
the
subject.

FRAMING FELIPE
–
64
–
Holley Trent

She
had
both
feet
on
the
floor
when
Eric
strode
in
whistling,
pushing
a
portable

catering
table
in
front
of
him
with
the
help
of
the
line
cook.
“I’ve
got
all
your
favorites,

Sarah.
Whipped
sweet
potatoes,
succotash,
devilled
eggs…”

This
was
one
of
the
reasons
Eric
was
on
her
shortlist.
Sarah
laughed
and
strode
to
the

serving
table
Eric
unloaded
plates
onto.

“Enjoy
it.
Once
the
folks
upstairs
start
smelling
it,
they’ll
make
their
way
down
and

disturb
your
romantic
interlude.”

Sarah
rolled
her
eyes.
“Go
away.”

“I
will.”
He
winked
and
sauntered
backward
toward
the
kitchen.
“But
not
because
you

told
me
to.”
He
blew
a
raspberry.

She
mumbled,
“Ass,”
while
uncovering
the
serving
dishes.

“Runs
in
the
family,”
he
called
back.

Felipe
walked
over,
hands
stuffed
into
his
jeans
pockets,
and
eyed
the
spread.
“Known

him
long?”
he
asked.

“About
as
long
as
I’ve
known
Astrid.”

He
wrapped
his
fingers
over
the
back
of
one
of
the
chairs
and
edged
it
away
from
the

table
slowly,
his
eyes
trained
on
the
seat.
“You
have…history?”

She
stopped
scooping
succotash
and
gave
him
a
look
he
didn’t
see.
“History?”

Now
he
trained
his
eyes
at
her,
but
it
wasn’t
the
clear
gray
of
his
irises
she
paid
much

attention
to.
It
was
the
fine,
twitching
muscles
in
his
jaw
hinges.
“Do
you
have…a
past?
With

him?”

“You
mean,
did
we
date
?”
Any
other
man
she
would
have
told
none
of
your
business
,
but

somehow,
it
felt
a
lot
like
Felipe’s
business.

“Yes.
Date,
I
guess.
He
is
your…
ex
novio
?”

Did
all
men
think
that
if
you
were
friendly
with
a
guy
it
was
because
he’d
been
in
your

pants
before?
She
shook
her
head
and
resumed
filling
her
plate.
“No.
Just
a
dear
friend.”

Footsteps
on
the
staircase
beyond
the
north
wall
made
her
speed
her
pace.
The
other

guests
would
arrive
soon.
She
grabbed
a
second
plate
and
heaped
portions
onto
it
as
Felipe

seemed
frozen—fixated,
even.
“We’re
a
close-‐knit
group,”
she
said
and
bobbed
her
head

toward
the
pile
of
utensils
on
the
table.