The cabin is a bit dingy and overheated from the roaring fire in the open fireplace. Despite the warmth, Miguel's grandmother is wrapped tightly in a blanket. She rocks gently in a rocking chair, her head turning as the cooler air drifts in from the outside before Miguel can close the door. Despite his warning I recoil. Even the deep wrinkles etched in her face can't hide the scarring around her eyes. The milky white of blindness covers her irises but still manages to penetrate my heart.
"Miguel, eres tú?"
"Sí, Nana."
"Quién está contigo?"
He doesn't respond as he kneels down next to her chair, allowing her fingers to glide over his face.
"No te afeitaste."
"Lo sé y lo siento." He reaches out for me. "Nana, esta es mi amiga, Stacy."
The old woman's lips purse. "Ese es un nombre Americano."
"Stacy no es como el resto de ellos." He smiles. "Ella me gusta."
My return smile is awkward; I wish I knew what they were saying since they are apparently talking about me.
"Quiero sentir su cara." The old woman stretches out her hand for me.
Miguel scooches over to the side. "She wants to feel your face. It's kind of her way of introduction."
Not wanting to be rude, despite not really feeling comfortable with the prospect of her touching me all in my face, I hunker down. Cold fingertips glide over my skin, first along my jaw and then up my cheekbones. She avoids my lips as she finishes off with my forehead.
"Ella tiene características fuertes."
Miguel nods. "Stacy es una mujer fuerte."
"What did she say?" My cheeks prickle as he caresses me with his warm eyes.
"She said you have strong features and I agreed that you are a strong woman."
My face burns under the compliment. No one has ever considered me strong; in my family's eyes, I'm the runt of the litter.
"Do you mind if I read to Nana? The only other person who visits her is a girl from town who cooks for her, but she doesn't know how to read and my grandma likes it so much."
"No, of course I don't mind."
He grabs a book off the table and sits down in front of the fire with his back resting against the wall. "Here." He pats the ground in between his legs. "Sit."
I lean against him with my elbows resting loosely on his knees, the back of my head nestling against his shoulder. As he begins to read, his strong voice fills the room and I get lost in the melodic murmur of the foreign language. I tilt my head back a little to watch his full lips move and a hot flash shoots through my lower body. I touch my mouth. Even though the kiss was brief, it was amazing.
YOU ARE READING
War Bride
Mystery / ThrillerTrafficked -- Beaten -- Trapped When eighteen-year-old Stacy Degray sets off to visit Felipe, a charming guy she met on the internet, she has no idea that she is being lured to his home country Malaguay to be auctioned off as a soldier's bride. All...