Lucky 7 Bad Boys Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Pineiro, Charity

"I spent some time in prison, Bianca. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

  His pain was still raw, she realized, and would never heal. Well, not as long as he kept it locked up inside. Moreover, she wanted him to be able to trust her and be honest with her, which he hadn't been.

  "We need to discuss this and what it means to us."

  "No, Bianca. We don't. What happened has nothing to do with us," he said stiffly, his body taut beneath her hands.

  "It has everything to do with us. You should have told me," she urged.

  He bolted out of the chair and turned his back to her. He was silent for a moment and then he confronted her. "Of course. How stupid of me, Princess. I should have marched right up to a prospective client and said, 'Hire me 'cause I'm an ex-con and need the work.'"

  "Don't retreat into that I'm a rich little girl and you're a poor boy from the barrio crap, Rey. We've gone way past that," she replied, growing frustrated.

  "I told you once that there were things about me you might not like. Things I sure as hell don't like and don't want to dredge up again. I am what I am now. You have no right -- "

  "No right?" she shot back angrily and tapped her chest to emphasize her point. "You took me to your bed. You made love to me and made me love you. I think that gives me the right, Rey."

  Rey shook his head and took a step back when she went to embrace him. "I never lied to you. I was never dishonest," he said.

  She could tell that she was getting nowhere, but what would they have if they didn't deal with this? How would they deal with other rough issues in the future if they were even meant to have a future.

  "Sometimes you can lie by not saying anything at all, Rey."

  He remained silent. He just stood there, his arms crossed tightly against his chest. His legs braced slightly apart as if in a fighting stance.

  She laid a hand on the taut muscles of his chest and he flinched beneath her touch. Daring yet more, she moved her hand to cradle the line of his stubbornly set jaw and caressed it gently, almost sadly. "You of all people know how important it is that a foundation be sound. Otherwise, everything built on it doesn't matter. If the foundation isn't strong, it all comes crashing down eventually."

  "There's nothing else to say, Bianca. I am what you see. A good man, you once told me," he replied and held his hands out, his gesture pleading for her to take what he said at face value.

  She stepped away, but knowing she couldn't be satisfied with his answer. Walking out of the kitchen, she grabbed her bag, and was heading out the door of his apartment when he grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop.

  "Bianca," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Don't."

  "Don't what? Love you? It's too late for that, but I can't. . ." She stopped, choking with emotion. Sucking in a deep breath, she looked down and ran a hand through her hair to draw away the strands that drifted into her face. With another rough inhalation, she met his gaze.

  "No, not can't. I won't settle for anything less than all of you. Even the bad, Rey. But you're not willing to share that with me. Christ, you weren't even going to tell me, were you?"

  The look of shame on his face answered her even before he released her arm and softly muttered, "No."

  She nodded and bit her lower lip to fight back the tears she refused to shed. "When you're ready to talk, to be honest with me, you know where I’ll be."

  Without waiting for his reply, she walked out the door.

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Dream of me," he had beseeched her weeks earlier.

  Now those dreams had turned into nightmares, she thought as she rose after a sleepless night and headed to her kitchen to try and make something to help her rest.

  She opened her fridge and removed a quart of milk. Fishing a mug out of one of the overhead cabinets, she filled it with the milk and then rummaged through her assortment of spices. Finding her bottle filled with fragrant cinnamon sticks, she dropped one into the mug. She located the last necessary ingredient in Maya's grandma's secret recipe.

  Fragrant orange blossom honey.

  One time when she had visited Alex at school, she had come down with a cold and Maya had made her this wonderful remedy.

  Bianca added a generous spoonful of honey to the milk mixture and placed the mug into her microwave, heating the mixture until the milk was steaming.

  Removing the mug from the oven, she placed it on the counter to give it a few minutes to cool down and for the flavor from the cinnamon stick to seep into the liquid.

  Maya swore that she'd always felt better after a cold by taking her grandmother’s secret recipe.

  Bianca had discovered that the mix worked well on insomnia as well, something she'd been suffering from regularly since her fight with Rey days earlier.

  She'd left his apartment and used her cell phone to call Eduardo and Diane who had driven the short distance to pick her up and offered her a bed for the night. She'd explained to them what had happened. They had commiserated and told her they were sure it was something that would blow over quickly once Rey realized that it was best to get it out and get over it.

  It was now days later and Rey still hadn't approached her. In fact, he seemed to be doing his best to avoid her, managing the job from afar through John-John and coming over only at night after she had left.

  After the closeness they had shared during the last few weeks, it was downright lonely without him. In that short time, she'd grown used to the feel of his big body lying in bed next to her, his warmth surrounding her at night. She'd grown greedy for the way he could make her feel as they made love. Worse, she suspected she'd never find another man who could inject such a mixture of passion, humor, love, and excitement into her life.

  She missed sharing a sandwich with him at lunch hour and talking over the progress they had both made during the day. She longed for one of those quiet nights they'd come to share in his home as he'd sit at his desk, working and sketching, and she'd be off in his kitchen, the door propped open so that they could trade an occasional word while she experimented with a recipe for something new.

  He'd become a major part of her life very quickly and she had thought he'd felt the same way.

  But of course, how could she know that? she chastised.

  She thought that she'd known him only to find out he had secrets he'd been keeping from her. Hidden things in his life which he clearly didn't want to share, and yet, she felt she needed to know them so that they could build a life together.

  She'd be the first to admit she'd been shocked at his admission that he'd spent time in prison, but the statement hadn't bothered her as much as the fact that he hadn't told her and still refused to tell her why. The not knowing part was harder.

  Bianca grabbed her mug of milk and sat down in her bed. She sipped the milk as she considered why Rey couldn't understand.

  Why had Rey had kept it from her?

  As she slowly drank down the milk, she ran over all the times they had spent together and tried to insert a moment when Rey might have turned to her and said, "Hello, I'm an ex-con".

  In all fairness to him, she was hard pressed to find such a moment.

  From the second she had laid eyes on him, their relationship had seemed to be in fast forward. Truth be told, she had fallen so hard and so quickly for him, that she hadn't paused to think about his past life. She knew what he was now and had only imagined what the future might hold for them. The past had held no sway over their possible lives together.

  In fact, it had never occurred to her that the past would derail whatever was developing between them.

  As the hot sweet milk started to take effect, Bianca grew drowsy. She set the mug to the side, snuggled up bed, and let herself dream.

  He came to her in her dreams and she was home once again.

  * * *

  Rey lingered at his office over the cup of nearly ice-cold cafe con leche languishing on his desk. Before him sat the sketches for the one wall of Bianca's restaurant. Sketches he had been
busily drawing while she whipped up another unusual dish in the kitchen. Next to the sketches was a list of art students from the local high school whom he had hired to make the drawing a reality.

  He had planned on the surprise for the night of the big party to show off the restaurant to family, friends, and some very select food critics.

  A night that was now only a week away.

  Since breaking up with her, they had made incredible progress in finishing up the project, in part due to the long hours he had put in late at night to avoid seeing her and dealing with their problems.

  The wall would have been his gift to her to celebrate everything that she had become in his life.

  He had planned on taking Bianca home after the party and handing her the small box that sat next to the list which sat next to the sketches. He reached for the box and popped it open to reveal the glittering diamond solitaire inside. He'd had it for over two weeks.

  Time and time again he'd imagined how he would ask her to marry him and her response. Imagined setting it on her slender finger and the way she’d smile at him and love would creep into her amazing grey-green eyes.

  With a curse, he snapped the lid closed, berating himself for the foolishness he'd indulged in. He hadn't known her long enough for such plans. She didn't know the real him. The real man she would most likely not have wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She was a good Cuban girl and women like her didn't marry low-class ex-con Puerto Rican manual laborers.

  He recalled her words to him of the other night, when she told him to not resort to such stereotypes to justify what was happening, but it made it easier to do that somehow. It made it easier to think that it was her class and upbringing and his lack of both that was responsible for the situation he was in now.

  But he knew that was the cowardly way to avoid facing the truth. A truth that was very difficult to accept, namely that Bianca loved him with all her heart and he had turned her away by refusing to let her into his past.

  His past was his past and didn't warrant being brought alive again right now, except that somehow it had taken on a life of its own. He knew that somehow it might which was why he had discussed it with Maya and Daisy so many weeks ago. It was why they had advised him to tell Bianca before they became involved.

  He should have listened.

  Unfortunately, he had been too stupid and too afraid to follow their good advice. He had told himself that the past was so far behind him that he could just forget it.

  A total crock, he reminded himself.

  He knew that now and suspected he had known it all along. He knew it every time he took his shirt off in front of her and the scar, the physical reminder of what had happened, made him feel ashamed. It was a wound that had never healed and because of it, it was bleeding the life out of his relationship with Bianca.

  If there was even a relationship left after his lying to her, he thought. He had committed a lie of omission as she had pointed out to him. A lie that threatened the foundations of any relationship, namely trust and honor.

  He picked up the box again, opened it, and stared at the ring. It had cost him so much more than what he had earned in the whole year after his father had died.

  It was a sign of a prosperity he had wanted so badly when he was younger. But without the right person to wear the ring, he had nothing, he realized.

  Rounding up the list of students and the sketches, he called the high school, knowing he didn't have much time left before the big night and hoping that somehow, he could make her understand on that night just what she meant to him.

  * * *

  Bianca paced back and forth in front of one of the stoves in the kitchen. Beneath the black and white checkered fabric of her jacket, a drop of sweat trickled down the line her spine, following the indentation to the small of her back.

  She swiped at it, finally gave in, and opened the front of her jacket to give herself some air, especially now that they were down to the final act of their big event.

  The night had started promptly and with little fanfare.

  They had decided to leave any congratulations and celebrations for the end of the night, after their guests had savored a tasting menu of the dishes they would serve at the restaurant. During the cocktail hour, the waiters and waitresses they had chosen and trained the week before had paraded out plates with an assortment of treats to begin the evening.

  Small and light empanadas filled with crab instead of the traditional meat filling. Crisp sticks of yuca, deep fried until golden and served with an ancho chile mayonnaise for dipping. Flat triangular pieces of a traditional Cuban-style sandwich, hot and grilled until the cheese was just beginning to ooze from the edges of the bread. Finally, deep fried, golf ball sized mashed potatoes stuffed with a mix of ham and spicy chorizo sausage.

  As the appetizers had been going around, Bianca had taken a quick peek from the kitchen, trying to gauge the responses of the diners and also trying to see if Rey had showed up.

  She hadn't seen him in the three weeks since Anthony's visit although she knew he'd been by the site, especially in the final week to deal with all the last minute detail work and the mysterious wall that had been blanketed with a tarp for the whole week.

  She had asked John-John what was going on, but he had refused to comment, only saying that Rey had asked that no one look behind it since it was a surprise for the big night.

  Based on John-John's comments, she had guessed that Rey would be here tonight, but so far she hadn't seen him. Unfortunately she didn't have the time to keep on searching. The guests would be seated shortly for the serving of the salads and samples of the main dishes.

  She shut the door to the kitchen, returned to the stove where she began to portion out the citrus-marinated pork they had roasted until it fell off the bone. To complete the dish, the pork would be dressed with a gravy made from the roasting juices. It would then be served alongside a small mound of white rice covered with earthy black beans. To finish the dish, a huge batch of ripe plantains were already being fried by her sous chef. Once plates were filled with the sample of the first offering, she turned to watch as Diana prepped her dish.

  Satisfied things were going as planned with her partner, Bianca took a moment to check the ovens and the variation on a Chicken Kiev that they had concocted. Finely sliced breasts of chicken had been filled with a Mexican queso fresco and spicy chorizo, rolled, breaded and deep-fried. They had just come out of the fryers a short time before and were now sitting in the ovens to stay warm. She glanced over at a worktable and watched as one of the assistants finished up the fresh pico de gallo that would be spooned over the chicken. On that plate there would also be some fragrant saffron-scented yellow rice scented with peppers, onions, corn, and green beans.

  That left Eduardo on his grill to deal with the red snapper they were also offering. He was grilling up the fillets. They had marinated for a few hours in a lemon, garlic, and parsley mojo. Once the grilling was finished in a few minutes, the fish would be placed on a fine layer of mashed plantain and then topped with finely sliced rings of caramelized onions. In deference to the delicateness of the fish and the starchiness of the plantains, a small avocado salad would be the last part of the dish.

  The first of the waiters returned from serving the salads. In the madness that ensued, plate after plate was finished and when the empty salad plates started coming in, the dishes from the sampling menus went out.

  The flurry of activity died down about twenty minutes later and seeing that everything was going according to plan, Bianca and her friends took a minute to breathe and then started getting cleaned up for the dessert and after-dinner celebration. They had reserved an office for themselves on the second floor, complete with a shower.

  They took turns going up there, showering, and changing of clothes.

  Bianca went first, cleaning up and slipping into a pair of black trouser pants and a silk tank top in an orangey-red color. A short bolero-style jacket completed her ensem
ble and she ran downstairs to check on what was happening in the kitchen.

  Everything seemed to be running smoothly and the desserts were already being dished out by the staff.

  She was pleased at how well they had chosen their employees. They all seemed professional and competent, certainly able to handle the load they would be getting on a regular day after handling a party of this size.

  For the desserts, they had selected the guava cheesecake that Bianca had tried out at Rey's. Diana had contributed a rich traditional Cuban-style bread pudding. Eduardo's dulce de leche-filled empanadas would be served hot over vanilla ice cream and drizzled with chocolate sauce.

  The empanadas were her favorite. The rich caramel of the dulce de leche covered with the chocolate was absolutely sinful over the ice cream.

  As she did some last minute supervision over the desserts, Eduardo and Diana came down and seeing that everything was under control, they instructed the head waiter to start preparing for a champagne toast to celebrate the opening.

  Bianca glanced at her friends. “Are you ready?”

  They nodded, but as she turned to go, Eduardo laid a hand on her arm and held her back. "Rey showed up a little while ago. He's sitting with your family and friends."

  She was surprised that her brother was being so tolerant. When she had told him and Maya about what had happened, Alex had been quite angry. But of course, Daisy was sitting at the same table. He couldn't very well make a scene in front of Maya's best friend, no matter how he felt about Rey.

  Bianca said nothing. What was there to say? she thought.

  Walking to the door of the kitchen, she opened it a crack, and peered into the restaurant.

  Rey was seated at the main table, right next to his sister Daisy and their mom. There'd be no avoiding him, but then again, she was tired of everything that had been happening the last week, what with Rey being there only at odd hours and working on the mysterious wall.

  Thinking of the wall, she glanced at it. The wall was still covered with a tarp from the space by the coat check and bar to where it curved and faced the main eating area of the restaurant.