Chasing Marisol (Blueprint to Love Book 3) by Lauren Giordano Page B
Authors: Lauren Giordano
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like a brother to us. He basically grew up in our house."
"Does everyone work for Specialty?"
"Jake runs the show. Harrison manages accounting and I head up estimating."
"And Andrea?"
"She works in marketing, but only part-time. Her girls are teenagers now, but she always wanted to be there when they got off the bus." Jeff took a step into her kitchen and she took another step back. "Tell me about your parents. Where is Ortega from?"
She smiled. "We are the definition of an American family. My father is Cuban, but born here— in Miami. He works for a defense contractor near D.C."
"And your mom?"
"My mother is Bridget. They met at Florida State. She has flaming red hair and blue eyes. We're all a weird blend of Cuban and Scottish."
He grinned over her word choice. "What's weird about that?"
"Well, I have a sister with strawberry blond hair, a brother who looks Hispanic like me— except for our eyes and a sister with red hair and dark eyes like Dad. You should see the family portrait."
He took a step closer. "The way I see it— you get that beautiful, golden skin from your dad and your amazing eyes from your mom."
"I . . . thank you. I-I guess so." Mari drew in a steadying breath, the compliment sending a jolt through her system. When it came to flirting, she was seriously out of practice. "Why— don't I get our drinks? We can sit in the living room. It's just down the hall." She ducked into the pantry, suddenly in serious need of regrouping.
"Why don't I help?"
To her dismay, Jeff followed her into the tiny space. Great— now she had a large, attractive man crowding the suddenly claustrophobic room. She adored her cottage and all of its charming nooks, but her pantry left much to be desired.
Again, she wondered why she was so thrown off balance by a few compliments. Lord knew she'd heard it all before— from guys just like him. Only this wasn't just another guy. This was the man she'd been thinking about— for weeks. Against her will. His smile— and that dimple— had slipped into her subconscious and wormed their way into her brain.
Scooping a few brownies onto a plate, Mari was supremely conscious of him watching her actions. Her pulse skittered with anticipation— or perhaps it was fear. This date had been a big step. One she'd been nervous to take. Out of habit, she licked the chocolate crumbs from her fingers.
"You can take these into the living room. I'll be there in a moment." She spoke over her shoulder as she opened the refrigerator to retrieve a beer. She'd already decided on water for herself. Cold water. With lots of ice.
When she extracted herself from the fridge, she discovered him standing right behind her. She was good and wedged— the counter at her back and Jefferson standing before her. "What are you doing?"
His gaze locked with hers, Jeff carefully set the plate on the counter and took a step closer. "The way I figure it— we're both wondering what it will be like when I finally kiss you. I thought maybe . . . we should just get it out of the way now."
Her breath caught in her throat. It was suddenly overly warm in her too small kitchen. "Actually, I-I'm not wondering at all," she lied. Her face heated with embarrassment.
Jeff's eyes snapped with humor as he examined her face before slowly grinning. "I'm gonna call liar on that statement. Possibly even 'pants on fire'."
"I do not lie." Except perhaps to herself. Because kissing him sounded like an amazing idea. A spectacular idea. He took a step closer and Mari's pulse ricocheted. "I don't think this is-" He reached out, gently tucking a strand of seriously out-of-control hair behind her ear. She gulped in a breath of air. "-a good idea."
"Soft and beautiful." Jeff acted as though he hadn't heard her. His hand slid around to cradle her head, his fingers tugging through the weight of her curls before they paused to massage her nape. Mari had to bite back a groan over the sensual touch.
"I've been imagining this for at
"Does everyone work for Specialty?"
"Jake runs the show. Harrison manages accounting and I head up estimating."
"And Andrea?"
"She works in marketing, but only part-time. Her girls are teenagers now, but she always wanted to be there when they got off the bus." Jeff took a step into her kitchen and she took another step back. "Tell me about your parents. Where is Ortega from?"
She smiled. "We are the definition of an American family. My father is Cuban, but born here— in Miami. He works for a defense contractor near D.C."
"And your mom?"
"My mother is Bridget. They met at Florida State. She has flaming red hair and blue eyes. We're all a weird blend of Cuban and Scottish."
He grinned over her word choice. "What's weird about that?"
"Well, I have a sister with strawberry blond hair, a brother who looks Hispanic like me— except for our eyes and a sister with red hair and dark eyes like Dad. You should see the family portrait."
He took a step closer. "The way I see it— you get that beautiful, golden skin from your dad and your amazing eyes from your mom."
"I . . . thank you. I-I guess so." Mari drew in a steadying breath, the compliment sending a jolt through her system. When it came to flirting, she was seriously out of practice. "Why— don't I get our drinks? We can sit in the living room. It's just down the hall." She ducked into the pantry, suddenly in serious need of regrouping.
"Why don't I help?"
To her dismay, Jeff followed her into the tiny space. Great— now she had a large, attractive man crowding the suddenly claustrophobic room. She adored her cottage and all of its charming nooks, but her pantry left much to be desired.
Again, she wondered why she was so thrown off balance by a few compliments. Lord knew she'd heard it all before— from guys just like him. Only this wasn't just another guy. This was the man she'd been thinking about— for weeks. Against her will. His smile— and that dimple— had slipped into her subconscious and wormed their way into her brain.
Scooping a few brownies onto a plate, Mari was supremely conscious of him watching her actions. Her pulse skittered with anticipation— or perhaps it was fear. This date had been a big step. One she'd been nervous to take. Out of habit, she licked the chocolate crumbs from her fingers.
"You can take these into the living room. I'll be there in a moment." She spoke over her shoulder as she opened the refrigerator to retrieve a beer. She'd already decided on water for herself. Cold water. With lots of ice.
When she extracted herself from the fridge, she discovered him standing right behind her. She was good and wedged— the counter at her back and Jefferson standing before her. "What are you doing?"
His gaze locked with hers, Jeff carefully set the plate on the counter and took a step closer. "The way I figure it— we're both wondering what it will be like when I finally kiss you. I thought maybe . . . we should just get it out of the way now."
Her breath caught in her throat. It was suddenly overly warm in her too small kitchen. "Actually, I-I'm not wondering at all," she lied. Her face heated with embarrassment.
Jeff's eyes snapped with humor as he examined her face before slowly grinning. "I'm gonna call liar on that statement. Possibly even 'pants on fire'."
"I do not lie." Except perhaps to herself. Because kissing him sounded like an amazing idea. A spectacular idea. He took a step closer and Mari's pulse ricocheted. "I don't think this is-" He reached out, gently tucking a strand of seriously out-of-control hair behind her ear. She gulped in a breath of air. "-a good idea."
"Soft and beautiful." Jeff acted as though he hadn't heard her. His hand slid around to cradle her head, his fingers tugging through the weight of her curls before they paused to massage her nape. Mari had to bite back a groan over the sensual touch.
"I've been imagining this for at
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