Her Perfect Affair

by Priscilla Oliveras

  A blush of embarrassment crept up her neck and into her cheeks.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I kinda like it,” Jeremy said.

  He stepped closer, stopping barely an arm’s length away from her.

  Ay, how she longed to reach out, lay her palm against his chest, feel his heart beating as she lifted onto her tiptoes for his kiss.

  “Makes me feel like you’re comfortable enough to tell me what you’re really thinking,” Jeremy continued. “Even if it’s something you might not share with others.”

  “Well, if you’d just do what I tell you, things would be a heck of a lot easier,” she countered.

  He threw back his head and laughed, a deep, robust sound that enticed her to join in.

  She couldn’t resist and she grinned back at him.

  Reaching out, Jeremy hooked the fingers of her left hand with his right ones. Their arms swung gently back and forth between them.

  Her chest swelled. Desire, uncertainty, and hope for what might be melding together.

  “Feeling pretty cheeky all of a sudden, aren’t you?” he teased.

  “Just telling it like it is.”

  His chuckle sent a thrill scampering across her shoulders. Little did he know that it was him bringing out her cheeky side.

  “Come on.” She tugged him toward her bedroom doorway. “Let’s get you settled in.”

  The very idea had her shivering with the possibilities and what-ifs.

  For the next couple of weeks until Lilí arrived, Jeremy’s room would be right next to hers. Nervous excitement fluttered in Rosa’s belly, making her feel like a freshman coed, giddy at the thought of the hunky boy living on her dorm floor.

  Only, there was more at stake here than the possibility of sharing a table in the cafeteria. Or maybe a Friday-night date.

  They had bigger issues to contend with. She could only hope they’d figure out a positive resolution.

  * * *

  Jeremy rubbed a towel on the bathroom mirror, clearing a circle in the fog so he could see his reflection. He brushed his teeth with the new toothbrush Rosa had pulled out of a drawer for him, then set it in the ceramic holder.

  Her pink toothbrush hanging next to his blue one implied a sense of intimacy he’d be foolish to buy into.

  Hell, look how hard he’d had to push to stay here until Lilí came home for the holidays. Talk about driving a hard bargain. Rosa was quiet, but headstrong.

  His threat about calling Dolores had been a low blow. But at this point, he’d do whatever it took not to lose the chance to spend more time with Rosa.

  His gaze caught on a few bottles clustered in the corner of the black-and-light-brown-flecked granite counter. Picking up a bottle of hand lotion, Jeremy took a whiff of the coconutty-vanilla scent that was pure Rosa.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Let the scent course through him, soothing the insecurities he hid.

  Rosa represented goodness. When he was with her, the self-doubt he’d carried since childhood seemed to vanish. Making it seem possible for him to be the man he wanted to be for his family.

  When he opened his eyes, his reflection stared back at him, the bottle pressed to his nose. The sappy expression on his face snapped him out of his stupor.

  What was he doing standing here in Rosa’s bathroom, getting high on the smell of her body lotion?

  If that wasn’t a little crazy, at the very least it was a little weird.

  Shaking off the haze of his coconut-vanilla-induced stupor, Jeremy set the bottle down, making sure he put it back exactly where he’d found it. Rosa was so meticulous, she’d probably notice if it had been moved.

  After making quick work of wiping down the sink and hanging up his bath towel, he dropped his gym bag back in Yazmine’s room, then hurried down to the kitchen to grab a flavored vitamin-infused water for Rosa. If she got thirsty in the middle of the night, he didn’t want her traipsing down the stairs.

  Moments later, he was tapping on her door.

  “Yes?” she answered.

  “Are you still up? I brought you some water.”

  “Oh, thanks. Come on in.”

  He turned the knob and opened the door to find her sitting in bed, the cream covers pulled up to her waist. A leather-bound notebook lay on her lap, a mechanical pencil in her right hand. The bedside lamp cast a warm glow around her, giving the room a cozy atmosphere.

  She looked like an innocent little girl waiting to be tucked in. Only, the images and ideas that came to his mind when he thought about Rosa in bed were far from innocent.

  Waiting for her to invite him in, he stayed hanging out in the doorway.

  “Are you working on something for school?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “After my nightly prayers, I usually spend a little time working on my poetry. Helps get my thoughts out of my head before sleep.”

  “May I?” He gestured toward her nightstand with the bottle of water.

  “Sure. I appreciate it.”

  Jeremy set the water down, accidentally knocking off a white envelope.

  He bent down to retrieve it, catching the signature and inscription scrawled in cursive across the front.

  Para mi Rosa. Con Amor, Papi.

  His rusty college Spanish skills worked at translating the words.

  For my Rosa. With love, Papi.

  Aw, man. The importance of the letter hit Jeremy square in the chest.

  Reynaldo had left one for each of his daughters, a private message of encouragement and love. The girls had mentioned the letters, but never shared their contents. This was the first time Jeremy had seen one.

  That Rosa kept hers by her bed spoke volumes of how much she loved her dad. How much she still missed him.

  She stared up at Jeremy, face scrubbed clean and ready for bed. Her satiny hair fell around her shoulders. The look in her eyes warm, yet subdued.

  He couldn’t help but wonder how difficult it was for Rosa to live here, in the home where she’d grown up. One that for years had been full of family and bustling with activity, but now remained mostly empty except for her. And Lilí when she was home on school breaks.

  “Didn’t mean to knock this off,” he said, setting the envelope back on the nightstand.

  “It’s okay. I use it as my bookmark.”

  Rather than stand and tower over her, or risk making her uncomfortable by copping a seat on the edge of her bed, Jeremy sat on the floor between her bed and the dresser.

  “How you holding up?” he asked.

  Rosa closed her journal, a finger stuck in between the pages to hold her place. “Nausea’s better. One of the teas must have helped.”

  “Good. What about everything else?”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I figure that wasn’t how you wanted to tell Dolores about the baby. What with your mad dash to be sick again.” He crooked a knee and propped an elbow on it. “I’m sure the conversation between you two while I was out buying the groceries couldn’t have been easy for you.”

  The sadness on Rosa’s face confirmed his suspicions.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for moral support.”

  She shook her head. “It was on me to tell her. I should have said something sooner. I just . . .”

  Her chest rose and fell on a sigh, the red material of her sleep shirt stretching with the deep breath. Reading is Sexy. The words taunted him.

  He dropped his gaze to his stockinged feet, away from her temptation.

  “It was hard enough talking with Principal Meyer today. But Dolores is like my second mom,” Rosa admitted. She picked up Reynaldo’s letter. Opening her notebook again, she lay the letter on the page, gently smoothing the envelope with her hands. “I don’t like disappointing people, especially my loved ones.”

  When she looked up, he caught the sheen of tears glistening in her brown eyes.

  “With the possibility of losing my job, even though there’s no actual policy I’m breaking as a single mom
, I can’t help but feel I’m letting a lot of people down.”

  Jeremy’s muscles tensed at her “single mom” comment.

  He wanted to argue that she had another option. Marriage. To him.

  If not for the vulnerability on her beautiful face and the hand pressed to the letter from her dad, Jeremy would have pushed the issue.

  Forget the advice his mother had given him. He couldn’t stop this compulsion driving his belief that he and Rosa should marry.

  They got along well. Usually anyway.

  Attraction wasn’t an issue between them. Obviously. Hell, the sex had been incredible.

  No question that he could provide for her and the baby, even though she didn’t seem to have any expectations when it came to his family’s financial status.

  But if she wanted to continue working at Queen of Peace, marrying him would silence any moral judgments against her being pregnant.

  “I can hear the arguments going on inside your head,” Rosa said, smoothing the comforter around her legs. “I appreciate you keeping them to yourself.”

  He lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug. Though, around her, he felt anything but lazy.

  Excited. Frustrated. Hungry. Determined.

  Definitely determined.

  “I’ve made it clear what I think we should do,” he reminded her. “Say the word and we’ll get married.”

  “Jeremy—”

  “Hey, you’re the one doing the mind reading. I was keeping quiet.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him in protest.

  Man, even when he wanted to be frustrated at her hardheadedness, he couldn’t be. Not when she looked so cute.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?” he asked, his thoughts meandering through the list of everything about her that he found appealing.

  “Why this compulsion for us to get married? Other than,” she quickly threw in, stopping him from giving his automatic response, “because it’s the right thing to do. I can’t help feeling like that’s not your only reason.”

  His pulse skipped a beat, surprise at how well she could read him, robbing him of speech.

  “I’m sorry, it just . . . it seems like there’s something you’re not telling me. Something . . .” She shook her head, rubbing at the frown lines between her brows. “Never mind, I’m probably being silly.”

  She looked down at her journal, rubbed a finger over Reynaldo’s signature, then closed the book and carefully set it on her nightstand.

  She wasn’t being silly. Her intuition had picked up on his insecurities. He should tell her about Roger. Now was his chance.

  If anyone would understand his compulsion to be better, do better, it was Rosa. The Fernandez sister everyone thought of as “the good girl.”

  He should be able to trust her with the ugly truth of his past.

  Right?

  Taking a deep breath, Jeremy opened his mouth to tell her.

  What came out instead was, “So you think the meeting with your principal went okay, then?”

  Rosa’s shoulders sagged at his question, mirroring his own disappointment with himself. “It could have gone better, could have gone worse. Once I meet with Father Yosef, I’ll know more.”

  Another tough conversation looming on the horizon for her. Damn.

  “Summoned to the priest’s office. I bet this is a first for you, huh?”

  “Of course!” Rosa’s Duh! expression was classic. “That’s Lilí’s territory, not mine.”

  Her surly tone made him chuckle, easing his discomfort at the turn their conversation had nearly taken. And his fear that her view of him might change once she knew about his connection to Roger.

  “It’s true. Ask Yaz—she’ll agree.” Rosa tugged her covers higher up her torso with a huff, her signature Mona Lisa grin tinged with a saucy slant.

  It was a good sign that she could poke fun at what they both knew wasn’t really a laughing matter. Her job was important to her, as was her reputation in her community.

  Man, what a mess they’d made of things.

  And yet, his only regret in all of this was the distance Rosa had put between them since that night.

  Resting the back of his head against the dresser, he watched her adjust the pillow between her and the bed’s headboard.

  Her face was still a little pale, more a faded tan than green though. Dark shadows and a feather of tiny lines rimmed her eyes, evidence of her fatigue. But she didn’t seem as fragile as she had earlier when he’d carried her from the library. Or when she’d gotten sick after Dolores’s arrival.

  Apparently satisfied with her pillow fluffing, Rosa sank back against it. She rolled her head to the side and shot him a sweet, more than likely unintentionally sexy smile.

  Pleasure washed through him.

  God, this felt good. Sitting here with her. The house quiet around them. Rosa looking cozy and comfortable, both under her covers and with him. He could almost forget about the difficult conversations they were avoiding. The decisions, his secret.

  This was what he’d missed between them. What he wanted to focus on. The sense of ease he felt when he was with her. The way she seemed able to relax and be herself around him, too.

  If her getting rest wasn’t a priority, he’d stay like this all night.

  “I’m not looking forward to meeting with Father Yosef,” she admitted.

  “I can go with you if you want. For moral support,” he added when she started to shake her head no. “The two of us are in this together, Rosa. Good or bad. Whether that’s drinking warm rice water or standing at your side when you’re sent to the priest’s office. It doesn’t matter. I’m in.”

  She stared down at her lap for so long he wondered if she planned to ignore his offer.

  “Let me think about it, okay?” she finally said.

  “Sure.”

  He wanted to press for more, but he’d promised not to do that. As difficult as it might be for him.

  She put a hand over her mouth to cover a yawn.

  Time for him to go.

  Pushing himself off the floor, Jeremy rose to stand. “You should get to sleep. I’ll be right next door.”

  She craned her neck to look up at him so he sank onto the edge of her bed.

  Her thigh pressed against his hip, but she didn’t scoot away.

  “Call out if you need anything,” he reminded her.

  “I’ll be fi—”

  “Fine, I know.” He smiled to soften the words. Then found himself getting lost in her eyes. So open, honest.

  The tip of her tongue snuck out to run along her bottom lip before she caught it with her teeth. No way did she mean it as an invitation. Still . . .

  He leaned toward her, driven by the urge to forget caution and kiss her delectable mouth like he’d wanted to all night. Remind her how good they were together.

  Her brown eyes flared, the dark depths brightening with . . . desire? Uncertainty?

  The uncertainty had him stretching to press a kiss on her forehead instead. He inhaled her sweet scent, certain he’d dream about it, about her, when he finally fell asleep.

  Gently, he caressed her silky hair, amazed by how drawn he was to her. How badly he wanted to protect her, care for her.

  “I’m here if you need me, okay?”

  He waited for her nod before stepping away.

  “Jeremy?”

  Her soft voice made him pause as he reached the doorway.

  “Thank you,” she offered. Her sweet smile had his insides melting faster than a snowman under the midday sun.

  “My pleasure,” he answered truthfully. “Get some rest.”

  He pulled her door shut behind him, then strode down the hall to Yazmine’s room, thinking that at least one of them should sleep tonight.

  As far as he was concerned, he’d be keeping one ear tuned for the slightest sound of distress from Rosa.

  Not to mention that, with her nestled all alone in her queen-sized bed on the other side of a thin wall, his body woul
d be too keyed up to relax and fall asleep.

  Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Twelve

  Thursday afternoon found Rosa and her Poetry Club regulars spread out at several tables in the library.

  “So, you’re sayin’ we gotta have the open mic poetry slam here? In the library?”

  There was no missing the skepticism in Iván’s question.

  The library, with its musty books, plastic chairs, laminate-topped tables and industrial-grade carpeting didn’t necessarily scream “young and hip, listen to my words as I tell it like it is”—the underlying vibe of her students’ spoken-word pieces.

  The beat of their verses, the emotion behind the words . . . they deserved the low lights and intimacy of a coffee shop. Not the harshness of institutional fluorescent lights.

  While Iván bemoaned the lack of ambiance, Rosa surreptitiously gauged the reactions of the rest of the students.

  On her right, Carlotta sat in silence, busily picking at her nails. Ever since Rosa had gotten sick earlier in the week, the teen had been sticking close to her.

  Carlotta had eyed her with worry-tinged suspicion when Rosa had mentioned that she’d be working half days until the holiday break while she dealt with a medical issue. Thankfully, the girl hadn’t asked any questions.

  At the next table over sat Ricky. With his side-fade-cut hair and peach-fuzz goatee, the senior responded to Iván’s complaint with the typical tough-guy, sí compadre approving jerk of his chin. However, she’d seen his eyes bug out when Iván had asked why they weren’t using the school’s auditorium for their open mic night.

  Barbara and Marla sat at another table, their blond heads together, giggling over something one of them had written in a notebook. Their smiles had wavered, worried looks exchanged when Iván first brought up the idea of stepping out onto the auditorium’s huge stage all by himself.

  Then there was Javier, the last one in the group. Javier sat at her table across from Carlotta, quiet and mellow, per his usual. The clean-shaven and baby-faced junior cut a glance at Carlotta, quickly averting his gaze when she happened to look up at him.

  Rosa couldn’t help but smile. Those two had been dancing around each other since the first Poetry Club meeting back in September. No telling when one would be brave enough to make the first move.