He almost decided to drop the idea of convincing them to get a different building. Almost. That was the whole reason he'd come over.
The oven timer dinged.
Talia jumped up. "My rhubarb pie is ready."
Cruz was nearly full after the lasagna, asparagus, and garlic bread he'd inhaled.
She opened the oven and a sweet aroma made Cruz's mouth water. "That smells delicious."
"It was my wife's recipe," Allen said.
"Was?" Cruz asked before he could filter himself. He cringed. "Sorry. Don't wanna pry."
"Don't be. I'm the one who brought her up. She passed away recently, and that was part of the reason Talia and I moved away. It was a little much with all the memories."
Cruz squirmed in his seat.
Talia set the pie on the counter. "It won't be as good as Mom's, but it shouldn't be bad."
Allen shook his head. "She's too humble—usually."
She turned around. "Hey, now."
Cruz cracked a smile, finding that he actually enjoyed spending time with them. But that went against his plans. He needed to remain level-headed if he wanted to convince them to find another building. If he started to like them, it would be too easy to back down.
Before long, he was eating the sweet, sugary goodness that was Talia's rhubarb pie, and for a moment he would have walked away from the dream just for another slice.
"Want some more?" Talia asked, appearing pleased.
"Still got some." Cruz took another bite, getting whipped cream on his nose.
She grinned, eying his mess. Talia was even more beautiful when she smiled.
Stop!
Cruz glanced down, picked up his napkin, and wiped his face. How could he even let himself think of her as pretty? A means to an end—he needed to get them to go back on their purchase. That was it.
Allen scooted his chair back away from the table. "I don't know about you kids, but I'm stuffed. Who's up for Yahtzee?"
Cruz hadn't played that in years. He hadn't even liked it as a kid, but that probably had more to do with Brayden always winning than the game itself.
"Do you have time?" Allen asked.
"Sure. You'll have to remind me of the rules, yo."
"Don't trust him," Talia teased. "He cheats."
"What?" Allen exclaimed. "I play fair. I just happen to win a lot."
Cruz laughed. "You guys remind me of my family."
Six
The three of them sat at the freshly cleared table while Talia's dad set up the game. Cruz sat back in the spot where he'd had dinner and pulled his sleeves up above his elbows, almost to his shoulders. His muscles nearly exploded out from the fabric. Talia had a hard time keeping her eyes off him.
He had one tattoo near where his sleeve rested that was a heart and a flower with the word Mom. A black and white dragon wrapped around the lower part of that same arm, and its tail looped around the neck.
Cruz glanced Talia's way, and caught her staring.
"Interesting tattoos," she said in hopes he wouldn't know she'd been checking out his muscles.
He gave her a funny look. "You like them?"
Talia shrugged. "How does your mom like that one?" She gestured to the heart.
Cruz flexed as he peered down at it.
Her own heart nearly jumped into her throat.
"It's growing on her," he said. "Her tears are down to a minimum now."
The corners of Talia's mouth twitched. "That's a good thing?"
He crossed his arms over his chest, flexing them—on purpose or was that just natural? He nodded and smiled.
"So, she likes them?" asked Talia.
"Yeah. She likes my dragon—she says he's cute. Not quite what I was going for, but whatever." He rubbed the top of the dragon's head almost like it was a pet.
She'd never been one for tattoos, but she kind of liked them. The artwork was really impressive.
Her dad cleared his throat. "You two ready to start this game?"
"Yes," Talia exclaimed, embarrassed by her staring.
"Let's get this party started." Cruz leaned forward.
Dad shook the dice, left down the two twos, scooped up the remaining ones, and rolled again. He picked all those up and then rolled again, getting one more two. "Six points for me under the twos column." He pushed the dice toward Cruz.
Cruz rolled and immediately got three fives. He rolled again and got one more.
Talia shook her head. He had to be one of those people who had all the good luck. Between him and her dad's usual wins, she didn't stand a chance.
He rolled again, and Talia held her breath, expecting him to get another five. It rolled and then stopped on one.
"Oh," said her dad. "You almost had a Yahtzee. Twenty for the fives?"
"Sure."
Allen wrote the total on the card.
Talia grabbed the five dice, and when she did, her hand brushed Cruz's. Her breath caught, but she recovered quickly and rolled. No two dice were the same. She sighed and then picked them up and rolled again. Again, no sets.
"You almost have a small straight," her dad pointed out.
"But I'm missing the one in the middle," she said.
"It's just a game," Cruz said, his voice teasing.
"Thanks." She picked up all the dice and rolled again. This time she got three sixes.
Her dad glanced down at the scorecard. "Chance or sixes?"
Talia made eye contact with Cruz, suddenly ready to turn this into a playful challenge. "Sixes."
The three of them played the most competitive game of Yahtzee Talia had ever experienced. She and Cruz nearly turned it into a contact sport. Her dad ended up winning by a landslide, and Talia beat Cruz by a whole two points. She danced in her seat while he rolled his eyes at her, barely hiding a smile.
Her dad glanced at her. "Talia, would you mind putting the game away? I'd like to ask Cruz something in the other room."
Cruz looked a little startled, but got out of the chair and followed her dad into the living room.
Talia rose and gathered the dice, score sheet, and the pencil while she listened to her dad make small talk about the church building. He always warmed people up with food, fun, and small talk before asking a favor.
"…and we were hoping you and your brothers wouldn't mind helping us get the sanctuary organized?"
There was a silence, and Talia inched toward the doorway.
"You want all five of us to help?"
"There are five of you?" asked her dad, sounding excited.
Talia took a step back, trying to imagine five Cruzes. Her face and neck heated.
She moved back toward the doorway. Cruz was speaking.
"I'm sure we could probably help you out, but I wanted to see if you'd consider a different building for your church. Sir."
Talia's mouth dropped open. Was that why he had agreed to come over?
"I'm sorry, son, but we've already purchased it."
"There's another available one in a better part of town," Cruz said. "It wouldn't take nearly the work this one does."
Silence.
Talia really wanted to look in, but couldn't without being seen. Was Cruz getting angry? Did her dad pat him on the shoulders?
"I understand you had your eye on the building, and we had no idea anyone else was interested in it. But that's the one we moved down here for. I'll tell you what. I'd be happy to help you find another building for your business—even if you choose not to help us get our church ready."
That was a well-played guilt trip. Her dad was the master of those when he wanted to be.
"You don't understand, sir—"
"Allen."
"Allen, can I explain something to you?"
"Of course."
"I'm going to level with you. When I moved back here because of my dad's failing health,"—Guilt point for Cruz—"I was going to open my joint as soon as I got here, but the city council has been against me from the first day. They don't want me opening it. Th
ey don't even care about the tax revenue."
"I see."
"They just assume I would draw in seedy characters, as they put it. Maybe you see it that way, too. I don't know, but no one seems to realize respectable people get them, too. And there's no way in—uh, there's no way I'd do anything to ruin Kittle Falls."
"I can appreciate that."
Irritation ran through her. Why was her dad even hearing him out?
"It's always been my dream," Cruz continued. "As long as I can remember. When I was a kid and saw my first tattoo, I not only wanted one, but I wanted to create them. It's art, just like anything else."
Art? Art was stained glass, a beautiful painting, or a statue.
"I feel for you, Cruz. I don't know why we were chosen to get the building over you—"
Cruz snorted. "Right."
"I think that being a lifelong resident of this little town, they would have given you priority."
"You're a preacher man. They don't want my business. It's more than obvious. But they didn't have to lie to me about it." Cruz's voice was riddled with anger. "But then there you and Talia were. I get it. I do. Especially after spending the evening with you guys. I'd have picked you, too."
Another guilt point for Cruz. But that didn't mean they'd hand their church over to him. And maybe the city council had a point. What would be so bad about him opening shop outside of town? The small town had a certain charm, and a tattoo parlor didn't fit that image.
"Talia and I will help you out, Cruz. I'm really sorry you were deceived. You have my word that we knew nothing about it. We wouldn't have agreed to the building if we knew about all this. We would have certainly spoken with you."
"I'm talking to you now." Cruz sounded angry still.
"But we already own it. We have the keys and a mortgage. The piles of paperwork are filled out."
"Maybe they can transfer all that over to the other building. There'd be less work to do on it. You'd definitely be able to have your Christmas program."
"I appreciate the thought, but your time would be better spent finding a place for your business."
Talia let out a sigh of relief. Her dad wasn't going to back down.
"You really don't want to even look at the other church?" Cruz asked.
"No, but I want to help right this wrong."
"How?" Cruz demanded. "What are you going to do?"
"We'll help you find a building."
Talia leaned against the wall. Just what they needed—something else to do. As if cleaning their old building, rearranging the furniture, and planning the program wasn't enough, why not just throw in helping Cruz find a building?
"There aren't any!" Cruz exclaimed. "This was the only one they would approve me for. There isn't anything in this town. Not for me, anyway. You guys, on the other hand, they'd let you buy that other church. Won't you at least look at it?"
"No. We love that old building we bought. I'm sorry."
Cruz swore.
Talia's eyes widened. How dare he swear at her dad? They'd invited him over for dinner, and he repays them by trying to get them to give up the building, and then he uses that language toward him—of all people.
Anger pulsated through her body. She couldn't listen to anymore, so she went over to the sink and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Banging the dishes around, she vented her frustration. They hadn't needed to invite Cruz over, and they certainly didn't need to help him with his tattoo place, even if it meant him helping with the church building.
Her dad appeared beside her. Talia jumped.
"Cruz is leaving."
"Okay." Good. Talia grabbed a dishtowel and dried her hands. She prepared herself for a cordial goodbye, wishing him luck on his venture—he would need it.
She walked out to the entryway, where Cruz was putting on his coat. As she neared him, she got a whiff of smoke.
Talia forced a smile. "Thanks for joining us for dinner tonight."
"I appreciate the invite." His words sounded as forced as hers, and he didn't return the smile.
They stared at each in an awkward silence until her dad ushered Cruz out to the porch. Talia let out a sigh of relief and went back to the kitchen grumbling about the dishes.
What had been the point of inviting him over? He really had some nerve. Coming over there, to their house, and eating their food with the sole intention to talk them out of the church building.
What did he think they were? What did he think the structure was?
"Easy there. Don't break a dish."
Talia spun around and stared at her dad. "What a jerk."
"What did I do?" he joked.
"Cruz." Talia jammed a plate in the dishwasher, barely making it fit.
"Maybe we should do those in the morning. Or I can get them before we go to bed."
"No. You made dinner. Dishes are my responsibility."
"Sounds like we should talk."
"What's there to talk about? At least you held your ground and didn't sign over our church."
"It's not ours—it's God's."
"You know what I mean. Our names are on the deed."
"Actually, I think the bank's is. Ours is on the mortgage." He smiled, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Come on. You want some hot chocolate?"
She wanted to give Cruz a piece of her mind, but she wouldn't vent that in front of her dad. "No. I just want to get the dishwasher started and then get to bed. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow if we're going to get everything ready in time. Plus we have to find enough people to even set up a program. Are we crazy for trying to do this?"
He kissed the top of her head. "Don't stress about it, Talia. We're not crazy for trying, but if it doesn't all come together, then we need to be okay with that. What's more important is the state of our hearts. Getting worked up isn't going to do anyone any good."
She hated it when he was right. "All the more reason to get to bed." She closed the dishwasher and spun the dial to start it. "Goodnight, Dad."
Seven
Cruz parked his motorcycle and sauntered up to the mechanic shop. Bobby sat at the front desk, talking on the phone. Cruz went in and up to the desk. Bobby held up a fist and Cruz bumped it.
Bobby finished the call and smiled at Cruz. "Hey, dude. Long time no see. Was-sup? Bike troubles?"
"Don't look so hopeful, yo. It's running fine."
"What brings you in?"
Cruz took a deep breath. What did bring him in? "Just wanted to see my old buddy."
"You chose the perfect day, man. I ain't got nothin' to work on."
"No? Usually, you're busy."
Bobby raised a brow, making his eyebrow ring bounce. "Guess I did such a good job, I put myself outta business."
"Wanna get some air, man?" Cruz asked.
"I'd love to go for a ride, dude, but I gotta stay close in case someone does come in."
"Let's just go outside."
Bobby put on a cap and leather jacket. "I can do that. When you gonna give me another tat?"
"As soon as I can get a shop."
"Thought you had a place, dude. That old church?" Bobby threw him a curious look.
"Yeah, that didn't work out."
"Sucks, man. What happened?"
They went outside and sat on a bench. Bobby pulled out a cigarette and handed it to Cruz, who didn't take it. "I'm trying to quit."
Bobby nodded and then lit up. "Yeah, I been thinkin' about that. So, what happened with the tat business?"
"The city lied to me."
"Dude." Bobby took a drag.
"I think they're hoping if they give me the runaround long enough, I'll just give up."
"Jerks."
"Did you have a hard time opening this place?" Cruz asked, gesturing to Bobby's auto shop.
"No, but what I wanted was a motorcycle shop. Remember that?"
Cruz thought back. "I remember you talking about that in high school."
"That was my plan. I wanted to open it when you were off in co
llege, but they gave me a similar runaround, dude. So, you know what I did? I opened this place, and now I sell motorcycles in the back."
"But that sucks," Cruz exclaimed. "You shouldn't have had to do that."
Bobby shrugged and flicked some ashes. "It worked. I make a lot more fixing cars than selling bikes, anyway. Especially during tourist season."
"Yeah, I know. Standing room only."
"Maybe you should do that."
Cruz arched a brow. "Come again?"
"Figure out a more creative way to open your business."
"Like what? I ain't fixing no cars."
"Better not. I don't need no competition." Bobby laughed. "You got that fancy art degree. Can't you use it for something else?"
Cruz groaned. "I want to open a tattoo parlor."
"I know nothin' about art, but there's gotta be something you can do as a front."
"Hey, I'm not ashamed of my tats."
Bobby sat taller. "And I ain't ashamed of my motorcycles."
Cruz shook his head. "I'm not setting up something else so I can hide my passion."
"It's not hiding it, dude. It's making a business decision."
"And my business decision is to open a tat place."
Bobby shook his head. "You're still the most stubborn person I've ever met. You were the same in kindergarten. Your way or the highway."
"So? I know what I want. Is there a problem with that?"
"If it gets in the way of you getting what you want."
Cruz leaned back against the bench. "I'm not going to sell out."
Bobby narrowed his eyes. "Is that what you think I did?"
"No, dude. You're doing awesome."
"But I'm fixing cars over bike sales," Bobby said.
"You're good at what you do. No one in town goes anywhere else."
"And you could do the same thing, man." Bobby stared at Cruz. "You can draw like it's no one's business. Remember those posters you did for your brother's grand opening?"
"Yeah, but I just did that for him. He's family, yo."
"People wanted to buy those. I heard them asking Rafael."
Cruz frowned. "I don't want to make posters."
Seaside Christmas: A Sweet Romance (The Seaside Hunters Book 5) Page 4
