Tempting The Beauty Queen

“Well, after everything we went through...” Kenzie began clearing her throat. “If you weren’t interested, you should have said so, set the guidelines, not leave me hanging to get myself to the restaurant.”

“You’re mad because I stood you up?” Ramon asked softly. Kenzie responded by rolling her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Kenzie.”

“I’m not mad about just standing me up. If you weren’t interested, you shouldn’t have started things up with me and then stopped speaking to me. And don’t try giving me a lame answer like, ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’”

“What if that’s true?”

“Whatever, Ramon.”

“Seriously.” Ramon reached to his side and found her hand. “I’d just finished the reconstruction on the hotel. I didn’t need to get into a relationship at the time. I’d just opened the hotel and you were a distraction.”

“A distraction?” Kenzie’s bottom lip poked out. “Gee, thanks.”

“You’re taking that the wrong way,” Ramon said. He gave her fingers a squeeze. “Kenzie, you are like your hair, fiery and spirited. I moved to Southwood to start my business, not get into a relationship. One night with you and I almost forgot everything I came here for.”

“Yet you still slept with me.”

“I am a man,” Ramon answered, “an utterly weak man who succumbed to the most beautiful, irresistible, sexiest woman on earth.”

And she was a woman, and the two of them together made such a pair in bed. Ramon was the first man able to coax out a primal desire from her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get it again but was glad and irritated at the same time for at least having experienced the pleasure once—or half a dozen times. Kenzie licked her lips. The anger at him she felt disappeared. “Thank you for your apology.”

“Wait a minute,” said Ramon. “I didn’t apologize.”

“Yes, you did,” Kenzie replied. She pushed their hands onto his thigh and let go, patting his muscular leg before letting go. “You meant to.”

Ramon began to laugh. “What?” He patted Kenzie’s leg and chuckled. “I accept your apology also.”

Kenzie brushed his hand away. “For what?”

“For all your antics. I know you were the one behind loosening the salt shaker at that food truck at the park.”

The image of Ramon’s mountain of salt on top of his curly fries evoked a giggle. “I plead the Fifth.” She pushed his hand away.

“See, I knew you were behind all the crappy things done to me. At least I tried to be nice to you with my antics.”

“Are you going to admit to sending me magnolias this spring?”

“Why would I send you the first batch of flowers blooming this spring?” Humor flooded his tone. Their hand game stopped. Kenzie turned to face him in the dark. Without needing to see his face, she knew he was leaning close to her. She gulped. He’d remembered her favorite flower. Kenzie’s lips throbbed at the idea of kissing him again. Her heart raced with the idea of anything intimate between them again. He was a drug to her and getting addicted to him was not good for her soul.

“Kenzie,” Ramon said softly.

“Ramon... I...” Kenzie paused but she knew as she waited with her mouth open he was going to kiss her. Her world shook; her heart raced. And she swore her heart dropped.

“I think the elevator is about to fall.” In one quick movement Ramon pulled Kenzie onto his lap.

That familiar feeling of being on a roller coaster just before it went down the hill washed over her. Kenzie’s bottom lifted off Ramon’s lap. Her heart dropped. Ramon cradled her in his arms and absorbed the fall for her, protecting her once again.

* * *

There’d been no thought for his safety during the fall. Ramon just knew if the elevator made it to the floor there’d be nothing to absorb the hit. His first instinct was to protect Kenzie. When the elevator dropped, the hydraulics miraculously kicked in and the bounce jarred the elevator doors open to the lower level. Ramon hadn’t noticed the windows from the outside but the light spilled into the hallway where the doors opened.

“Okay, so this time I’m going to thank you,” Kenzie said, wiping the gray dust and dirt off her face.

The sound of her voice filled him with pride. She was okay. Ramon helped her, using his thumbs against her cheekbones, wiping until he saw the freckles. Relief hit him. His heart ached at the fear of something happening to her under his watch. Aside from family, it felt odd to care about someone enough to feel responsible for them.

Most of the businesses in Southwood had commercial space on the first level and residential on the next floor or two. This was a common usage in old towns. No one wanted to live away from their businesses for security reasons. Ramon understood the terror small African-American towns felt when angry white neighbors sought to destroy their homes. Since then, there had been subdivisions in Southwood, but people still lived in these split-plan residences. Without the use of cell phones or any other modern technology a postman in the past never knew when he’d have to meet an incoming stagecoach with the US Postal Service or send a telegraph.

Focusing back on the woman in his lap, Ramon blinked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Kenzie’s voice was weak but she tried to smile. “Just shaky.”

“That’s to be expected,” he said, easing her off his lap, where the proof of desire grew. That old, familiar, lascivious feeling crept through his veins. Logic fought the uncontrollable rush of excitement and impulse to touch her again. “Let’s get out of here before something else happens.”

Kenzie stood first but used his shoulders to steady herself, not realizing her breasts were in his face. Given what just happened, Ramon knew this was not the right time to reach around for her hips and pull her back to him. This was how things worked when he was around Kenzie. She took all common sense out of the equation, just as she had last summer when he needed to concentrate on business.

Ramon cleared his throat. “Let’s try to find a way out of here.”

Once he reached full height Ramon brushed off the debris from his jacket and did the same to Kenzie’s body. His hands smoothed over the soft contours of her hips and breasts. Again Ramon needed to mentally call out the starting lineup of the Yankees.

“Are you okay?” Kenzie asked him.

Ramon glanced down at his pants, afraid of what she was asking, but realized she meant after the elevator’s fall. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Despite the decrepit state of the building the ground floor wasn’t in a state of disarray. Dust piled on either side of the hallways. A half dozen doors stood outside the elevator shaft and Ramon grabbed Kenzie’s hand to help walk her through the threshold of the door he figured was the exit. A pile of ceiling tiles blocked them and they had to step over it. The red heels she wore were covered with gray dust and the fabric of her jeans was frayed at the knees.

If Ramon had to hold her hand the whole time, he was going to end up pressing her against the wall and kissing her senseless. They needed to get out of here. Alexander Ward should be here by now and Ramon didn’t want the man to think he’d changed his mind about buying the place. It did need a lot of work but he couldn’t beat the downtown location. “Wait here,” he told Kenzie.

Ramon left Kenzie’s side and jogged down the end of hall to the exit door. The silver bar wouldn’t budge. Damn it. Guided by the glow of her cell phone, he hurried back to Kenzie. “It’s locked.”

“Still no service. We can check some of these old offices,” Kenzie suggested, making her way to the first door. Ramon followed her inside to the empty space. The faded paper covering the glass offered light but not a view of people walking around outside. Since Ramon was taller, he started toward the window to peel off the paper but Kenzie did some cheerleading jump and tore off a corner, bringing the whole sheet down. Impressed with the move, Ramon clapped for her and she took a bow.

“Six years of middle and high school cheerleading,” she breathed, “are finally paying off.”

“Are you sure? You’re breathing heavier, unless you’re having another panic attack.”

Kenzie’s eyes widened and her face flushed a deep pink. “I’m older.”

“Ancient,” Ramon teased. He held his hand out for her to take. “Let’s check another room—no one is out on the street here. Maybe we’ll come across the stairs.”

“I think the stairs are filled with furniture.”

“Why do you think that?”

Kenzie moved out the door and explained. “When I was in high school, kids loved coming here and running through the halls, especially during Halloween. This place is haunted.”

“What?” Ramon scoffed and closed the door behind them.

“I’m serious. I heard some kids came out Halloween Eve and things would be rearranged from the last time. So they’d booby-trap the place with rearranged furniture and come back and things would be different the next day.”

“Sounds like kids were playing tricks on each other if you ask me.” Ramon imagined his older cousins doing the same thing to the younger group.

“Maybe, but I believe this place is haunted. I grew up hearing a story about the forties. My great-aunt came here and sent letters to her soldier boyfriend off in the war. She came here every day and mailed a letter. Her beau came back and married another woman from Peachville.”

Southwood bordered three other cities—Peachville, Samaritan and Black Wolf Creek—and had become home of their first post office. Like Southwood, the other cities were founded by citizens tired of the Civil War. Union soldiers tore through South Georgia and burned old buildings and land. When Confederate soldiers came home to nothing, some left and some stayed. Those who stayed worked with the lasting people of the land, former slaves and Native Americans, and rebuilt each city. All three worked in unison into the next century. With so many single women writing to shipped off military men during wartime, this soldier had probably met another woman.

“I think your aunt’s boyfriend was a player.”

Kenzie stopped walking and pondered his statement. Her lips twisted to the side and finally she nodded. “I never thought about it like that. But your belief doesn’t answer the question about the noises heard here. The theater next door flooded last summer, which is why we had to hold Miss Southwood at Magnolia Palace.”

“So?”

“So the flood started from here. The water has been turned off for decades.”

“I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.” They came to the next office. Kenzie took a step inside but Ramon held her back. “Let me inspect first in case there’s a ghost.”

“Okay,” Kenzie sang skeptically. “But if there’s a ghost demanding the blood of a virgin, you’re out of luck.”

His blood pulsed, as he knew firsthand Kenzie wasn’t a virgin, then settled with a splash of jealousy. Sex with her was addicting and it took everything he had to keep his distance. Clearing his throat, he entered the room. The smell of mildew assaulted his senses. Like the previous room the windows were boarded up with paper. Ramon moved to take the paper down before Kenzie.

“We’re looking out the back windows,” he deduced. “Let’s try a room facing the street.”

“Makes sense,” Kenzie surprisingly agreed. She turned and crossed the hall before he had a chance to exit the room and like before, did her cheerleading jump and tore down the papers. Bright light spilled into the room. Dust particles floated through the rays of sunshine. “Bingo!” She banged on the windowpane. Her red-tipped nails sounded off in a rhythmic beat and the hairs on the back of Ramon’s neck rose. He recalled what those nails had done to his back.

Ramon cleared his throat again. Kenzie turned and faced him. “I think we need to hurry up and get you out of here. You sound like your throat is closing or something.”

“Or something,” Ramon agreed. Sweat began to form under his arms. He took the jacket off and laid it on the desk once he entered the musty room. “Do you see Alexander out there?”

Her hand paused in midair, about to knock on the window, Kenzie turned to face him with a scowl on her face. “I’d rather he not be the one to rescue us.”

“History between you two?” Ramon inquired before holding his hand up and swallowing down his first bitter pill of jealousy. “On second thought, this is a small town. Everyone has dated everyone else at one point.”

“I don’t want Alexander to know I’m here. He purposely didn’t tell me about selling the place.”

Ramon wiped his finger against the dusty, cluttered desk. “Not too sure I want to buy the place after all. Seems like a lot of work.”

“Plus you need to make sure you maintain the history of the place,” she reminded him with a sweet grin.

“Oh yes, that it’s haunted.”

The sweet grin disappeared and Kenzie shook her head from side to side. The button Kenzie swore he’d ripped off had indeed disappeared and he was left with a view of her lacy white bra. Ramon swallowed hard and tried not to stare at the swell of her breasts. Dust flew from her curly hair. Her bun was now loose and her curls dangled.

“Laugh all you want. Try spending the night here.”

“I have several bedrooms at my hotel to choose from,” Ramon said.

Kenzie rolled her eyes. “Yes, I am well aware.” She took a step back and craned her neck for a better view out the window. “Let me get on your shoulders.”

The idea of Kenzie’s legs wrapped around his shoulders did something to him. “No.”

“C’mon, I’m not that heavy.”

Ramon rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. “As much as I like your legs wrapped around me, I don’t think doing it now that we’re friends again is a wise idea.”

Getting the hint, Kenzie pulled her blouse together. “Oh.”

“I’ll check.” He moved closer into the room and peered out the dirty glass. “There are more people.” Like Kenzie had done a few moments ago, he banged on the glass. Behind him his companion began pushing the desk against the wall. Before he had a chance to question her, she kicked her feet out of her heels and climbed on top of the desk. Ramon glanced down at the legs of the furniture wobbling. “That’s not safe—get down from there.”

“The two of us banging together will make more noise.”

Ramon paused at her statement. How could being trapped in a building be so erotic? “Kenzie.”

“Hey! Hey!” she screamed at the window.

The jiggling of her body made the desk move more. Ramon wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her off the top. She kicked the top drawer by accident and the compartment fell down, causing old papers to fall to the dust covered ground. Like a child on Christmas morning, Kenzie squealed in delight and shimmied out of Ramon’s eyes. “Oh my God, what’s this?”

“Old papers,” Ramon answered. He knelt beside her and as she whipped her hair off her neck he whiffed the sweet, magnolia scented products in her hair.

“But what kind? Look here,” she said, lifting up what looked like a legal document stapled to a blue construction-like paper. “Bank papers? Deeds? Oh, look.” Kenzie scrambled around the floor and found a brass key. “What do you think this is for?”

Ramon inspected it. “It’s too big for a desk drawer.” He stood up, went to the office door to close it, where he found a closet. “Throw me the key.” She did, but it landed on the floor halfway between them.

“I was a cheerleader, not a quarterback.”

Grumbling, Ramon retrieved the key. The lock turned but the door wouldn’t open. Humidity often caused wood to swell. Kenzie was already behind him when he shouldered the closet open. Musty air hit their noses.

“Son of a bitch,” Kenzie said from between gritted teeth. “Someone has been in here and tried putting in an air-conditioning unit.”

Ramon followed Kenzie’s glare up to the ceiling of the closet. A silver-coated pipe hung from the top tiles. Rust-colored water stained the walls and the floor. Ramon would rather leave the belongings inside and return with a face mask but Kenzie had already started dragging the plastic bags out. She grunted and tugged at the top bag, an old army-green duffel bag. Ramon took it from her hands and tossed it behind them with ease. The next bags, oddly shaped, weren’t as heavy. Kenzie pulled a picture frame from the top bag.

“The date,” Kenzie breathed. “This photograph was taken over a hundred years ago.” She pressed her finger at the date on the corner of the faded, yellowed newspaper clipping. Ramon wondered if she’d paid attention to the picture first. The image in the article was of a sheriff and his men standing over a body. The sheriff held a most wanted sketch and his deputy held up a picture of a newspaper. The fold of a paper obscured the names tagged in the photo.

“I need to look these names up, of course,” said Kenzie. “What else is in here?”

They found more photographs, including some of the post office they stood in when it was first built. The streets were filled with mud. Instead of a sidewalk there were boardwalks. Mud tarnished the hems of the proud women’s dresses. A box contained old, loose black-and-white photographs from weddings and men dressed up in military garb standing in front of an old bus, being shipped off to war. Another framed photograph showed the original structure of the schoolhouse.

“Before Southwood High and Southwood Middle,” Kenzie began, “everyone was taught in the one school. Now it’s used as a shed by the elementary school.”

“I remember my folks talking about being taught in one school back in Villa San Juan.” Ramon had grown up in a Florida island town so small, they’d only needed one for a long time. He realized Southwood and Villa San Juan weren’t so different.

“It wasn’t until the late fifties the little school had enough students and funding for a total of three brick and mortar buildings. After the Second World War, while African-Americans from other towns were coming back to the same segregation they’d left, Southwood’s citizens banded together as they always had since the Civil War.”

“Why don’t you teach history?” Ramon inquired. “Didn’t Mr. Myers retire?”

Kenzie pulled her hair up into a bun, exposing her long neck. “I wouldn’t mind. I’ve substituted before. I can’t possibly think about teaching right now. That’s all I need my great-aunts and uncles to hear. I’m going to show up at these weddings and be labeled the spinster teacher. And now it looks like I’ve just hit the jackpot of artifacts. I can’t wait to show all this off at the gala this month, providing the new buyer lets me keep them.”

Ramon knew she meant him. He shrugged his shoulders. “I haven’t decided yet. There is a lot of damage and I’ve got to keep up the historic regulations.”

“True,” she agreed, still rifling through the closet.

Ramon glanced around the room. The closet had now been turned inside out. In Kenzie’s search, she tossed some things on top of the original bag. Small pieces of paper spilled out from a hole on the side.

“What’s this?” he asked, picking up a square card.

“I have no idea,” Kenzie said, inspecting it in his hand. “I can barely make out ‘Southwood’ at the top. Damn the water damage. I can’t tell. What do you think it is?”

“My gut says an election ballot,” he half teased her. “Maybe the current mayor didn’t win.”

“I wish.” Kenzie frowned. “I hate Anson with a passion. Unfortunately, when he came along, we were doing electronic ballots. No, these look much older. Hmm, the mystery grows. I told you this place was haunted—you may want to rethink buying it.”

“I don’t believe for one minute it’s haunted.”

“You don’t sound too sure.” Kenzie poked his chest. “Scared?”

“I need to come up with a proposal for how I’m going to keep the historic features intact. Maybe I need a historian, someone who can help me with the Economic Development Council.”

“Good luck,” Kenzie huffed and folded her arms across her chest.

“Kenzie, c’mon, why don’t you help me?”

“Why would I want to help you buy this place and turn it into something stupid like a hotel?”

“I already have a hotel. I can offer you something you don’t have.”

Chin jutted forward, Kenzie squared her shoulders. “What can you offer me?”

“If you’ll help me with the proposal, I’ll be your date for all your functions this month.”

“No thanks,” Kenzie quickly responded with a frown. The corners of Ramon’s mouth turned upside down. “Oh come on,” she breathed, “you don’t think I would allow you the chance to stand me up again.”

“We’ve moved beyond that, Kenzie.”

“Oh sure,” Kenzie said, rolling her eyes. “In a matter of minutes we’ve moved on. Whatever. Besides, anyone in town will know we hate each other.”

“There’s a thin line between...”

Kenzie stopped the following sentence from flowing by pressing her two fingers against his lips—that almost kissed her a few moments ago. The same lips that kissed her naked body on a bed of magnolia petals under the full moon.

“You know we can sell chemistry.” Ramon wrapped his left hand around her fingers and kissed the tips.

Kenzie waited a beat or two before pulling away with a step backward. “How so?”

Ramon stepped forward and as if in a dance move, Kenzie backed up against the wall, right where he wanted her. He pressed his hands on the wall on either side of her head. Beneath her blouse her skin rippled with goose bumps. When he dipped his head lower toward hers she pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. Chuckling, Ramon caressed the side of her face.

“Because we can’t deny it.” His lips were practically on hers. He tasted the sweet lemon frosting on her breath.

“Mr. Torres, is that you?” someone yelled and banged on the outside glass.

Kenzie pressed her head against Ramon’s chest and grabbed the lapels of his jacket while Ramon cursed in Spanish. “Think my offer over, sweetheart.”

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