the table, watching her twirl a strand of hair around her index finger. “Aren’t you from Georgia?”
“Yes, but I’ve lived in Atlanta—the city—all my life. There’s a difference.”
She had attractive features and was quite pretty, with long lashes curled at the ends and smoky, dark brown eyes. He didn’t say anything else for awhile, wondering what it would take to get her alone and how receptive she’d be to the opportunity. He watched her until she fidgeted and played with the earring in her ear, gaze bouncing from him to the table and back again.
“So you really renovated the house all by yourself?” she asked.
She was referring to the property he’d purchased out in the country and now lived in. “Pretty much. You should come see it.”
He kept his voice even, firm, as if to imply she had no other choice but to obey. He didn’t often take women to his house because they couldn’t appreciate the tranquility of the country. His closest neighbor lived miles away, and he was glad for the distance between them. Before he left Cuba, citizens didn’t have the right to own and sell property. The laws were changing, but it was nothing like here. He was proud of his place and the fact he could call it his own.
“I’ll think about coming out this weekend,” Talia said.
She broke the link of their connected gazes by picking up the ticket the waiter had placed there minutes before.
“What are you doing?” Tomas demanded.
“I’m getting the check.”
He snatched it away and leaned across the table. “What kind of pendejo would I be to let you pay, especially after I invited you to lunch?”
Her mouth fell open. “I assumed—”
“That’s the problem. Too much assuming.” He winked to let her know he was joking and slid from the booth. “Come on. I can’t spend all day here with you. I have to get back to work.”
Talia followed him to the front where he paid the bill with cash, and she waited at the door when he went back to the table to leave a tip.
“Thank you for lunch,” she said once they were walking back the way they came.
“You’re welcome.”
They fell silent. She’d been enjoying herself and hadn’t thought about work or the mess of her life during the entire hour. She wanted to walk slowly to prolong their time together, but his long-legged strides made it impossible to do.
“Is this part of the truce?” she asked lightly, reminding him of his request at the housewarming party.
He chuckled. “It could be. You’re not as bad as I thought.”
“Me?” she huffed. “Huh.”
They came to the intersection where she had to veer right to get back to her building. “I’m going this way. I work on the top floor over there.” She pointed to the gray stone building. “You’re headed back to the work site?”
He nodded but seemed hesitant to leave. Parting ways was turning into an inelegant process, and the thought that he wanted to delay saying goodbye as much as she did was at once peculiarly electrifying and disquieting.
“I’ll see you around,” Talia said.
“Maybe this weekend? There’ll be plenty of food.”
“But no drama?” She immediately regretted the comment and the negative memories it conjured. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“What you said doesn’t bother me. You think too much.” He took a look at his watch. “I better go.”
“Bye.”
“Hey.” He caught her wrist, halting her retreat. Goose flesh pimpled the length of her arm. Her body’s reaction startled her.
She squinted against the sun peering over his broad shoulders. They were standing at an incline on the sidewalk, so he loomed even taller than usual above her. His eyes were framed by long, sooty lashes, and they were almost as clear as glass, pulling her into their depths.
His lips weren’t particularly full, but their sensual lines promised passion and pleasure and from what she’d heard, it would not be false advertising. She could only imagine the ways in
“Yes, but I’ve lived in Atlanta—the city—all my life. There’s a difference.”
She had attractive features and was quite pretty, with long lashes curled at the ends and smoky, dark brown eyes. He didn’t say anything else for awhile, wondering what it would take to get her alone and how receptive she’d be to the opportunity. He watched her until she fidgeted and played with the earring in her ear, gaze bouncing from him to the table and back again.
“So you really renovated the house all by yourself?” she asked.
She was referring to the property he’d purchased out in the country and now lived in. “Pretty much. You should come see it.”
He kept his voice even, firm, as if to imply she had no other choice but to obey. He didn’t often take women to his house because they couldn’t appreciate the tranquility of the country. His closest neighbor lived miles away, and he was glad for the distance between them. Before he left Cuba, citizens didn’t have the right to own and sell property. The laws were changing, but it was nothing like here. He was proud of his place and the fact he could call it his own.
“I’ll think about coming out this weekend,” Talia said.
She broke the link of their connected gazes by picking up the ticket the waiter had placed there minutes before.
“What are you doing?” Tomas demanded.
“I’m getting the check.”
He snatched it away and leaned across the table. “What kind of pendejo would I be to let you pay, especially after I invited you to lunch?”
Her mouth fell open. “I assumed—”
“That’s the problem. Too much assuming.” He winked to let her know he was joking and slid from the booth. “Come on. I can’t spend all day here with you. I have to get back to work.”
Talia followed him to the front where he paid the bill with cash, and she waited at the door when he went back to the table to leave a tip.
“Thank you for lunch,” she said once they were walking back the way they came.
“You’re welcome.”
They fell silent. She’d been enjoying herself and hadn’t thought about work or the mess of her life during the entire hour. She wanted to walk slowly to prolong their time together, but his long-legged strides made it impossible to do.
“Is this part of the truce?” she asked lightly, reminding him of his request at the housewarming party.
He chuckled. “It could be. You’re not as bad as I thought.”
“Me?” she huffed. “Huh.”
They came to the intersection where she had to veer right to get back to her building. “I’m going this way. I work on the top floor over there.” She pointed to the gray stone building. “You’re headed back to the work site?”
He nodded but seemed hesitant to leave. Parting ways was turning into an inelegant process, and the thought that he wanted to delay saying goodbye as much as she did was at once peculiarly electrifying and disquieting.
“I’ll see you around,” Talia said.
“Maybe this weekend? There’ll be plenty of food.”
“But no drama?” She immediately regretted the comment and the negative memories it conjured. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“What you said doesn’t bother me. You think too much.” He took a look at his watch. “I better go.”
“Bye.”
“Hey.” He caught her wrist, halting her retreat. Goose flesh pimpled the length of her arm. Her body’s reaction startled her.
She squinted against the sun peering over his broad shoulders. They were standing at an incline on the sidewalk, so he loomed even taller than usual above her. His eyes were framed by long, sooty lashes, and they were almost as clear as glass, pulling her into their depths.
His lips weren’t particularly full, but their sensual lines promised passion and pleasure and from what she’d heard, it would not be false advertising. She could only imagine the ways in
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