Lawmakers by Tressie Lockwood, Dahlia Rose Read Free Book Online Page A

Della’s uncle his usual greeting. Still, it hadn’t been enough to ingratiate him with the man. Santi squared his shoulders and drew himself to his full height before approaching the house. He rang the bell.
    Why am I nervous? I have met with heads of countries in my time.
    The door opened, and the old man with a shock of gray, uncombed hair stood before him. “Oh, it’s you,” he said in a grating tone, “the pansy boy.”
    Santi clenched his jaw. The elder generation was to be respected. He didn’t like biting his tongue. “Good evening, Señor Hayes.”
    “I told you don’t be speaking that Mexican talk here!” He stepped back and allowed Santi to come inside.
    “Uncle Leonard!” Della rushed into the room, and Santi forgot his offense from the moment he saw her. “I told you Santi is Spanish, not Mexican. He’s from Spain, and I don’t appreciate you insulting him as if he’s somehow less than us. It’s racist. No one deserves that.”
    “Is there a difference?” her uncle insisted, but then he relented. Santi saw the hard expression soften a little when he faced his niece. “Well he keeps you out at all hours, and he doesn’t care about your school schedule. He’s got his money and doesn’t care about your future.”
    “That’s not true,” Santi said.
    Della grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door. “Don’t listen to him. Let’s just go. I don’t want a headache before we get out of here. See you later, uncle. I probably won’t be home tonight.”
    “Della!” The old man toddled behind them.
    She shut the door before he reached it and marched down the drive toward Santi’s rental. He had no choice but to follow. As Della stood beside the car, Santi took in her curvy figure. His slacks grew tight around his crotch, and he grinned. Even a grumpy old man was worth dealing with to have her.
    He drew up to her and rested his hands on her hips. Standing close, he luxuriated in how her ass rubbed against him. She was not too small or too tall but fit his body just right when she wore heels. He couldn’t get enough of her.
    “I’m hungry, Santi. Let’s go,” she pleaded. “Besides, you’re not copping a feel outside of my house. He’s probably looking through the window, and I don’t want to put up with nonsense later.”
    Santi held the door open for her and watched as she folded inside. He took in the smooth, chocolate legs, visible with the rise of her dress. “I’m sorry he doesn’t like me.”
    She rolled her eyes. “You could be black and live in the neighborhood, and he wouldn’t like you. Don’t sweat it, okay? I’m so sorry he was like that. I can’t get him to watch his mouth, and I don’t want him to hurt your feelings.”
    Santi walked around to his side of the car and slid behind the steering wheel. He chuckled as he turned over the engine. “Don’t worry. I don’t wear my feelings for all to see.”
    “On your sleeve, you mean,” she corrected.
    He blinked at her, and she laughed. Something stirred in him. What should he do about Della? His time in America would eventually come to an end. She leaned toward him, studying his face. When she laid a hand on his arm, a tingle of awareness lit throughout his body.
    “Hey, you okay?” she asked.
    “Fine.” He threw the car into reverse. “We go.”
    Santi first took Della out to eat. He allowed her choice of where she wanted to go and at her insistence gave in to her ordering for him this time. Of course, he drew the line at her paying the bill.
    “No,” he said, removing the check from her fingers.
    “Santi, it’s only fair.”
    “I said no, Della. End of discussion.”
    She folded her arms beneath her breasts. He assumed the stance meant business, but it served to entice him, and it did not change his mind. “You don’t call me Della much, so what is this punishment?”
    “Of course not, cariño .” He gave extra emphasis to the word. “It means I will not allow you to pay. In my