She wasn’t ready to walk away from whatever they were doing here. Not yet. Tomás and Maria needed her. She wanted more time with them. Even if it could only be for a little while.
Yaz shrugged on her jacket, then grabbed his biceps with both hands. “Look, things went well this week, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“What’s a few more then? I can do this.” She stared up at him, willing him to see her sincerity. Willing him to have faith in her.
“What about your dad?” Tomás’s frown deepened. “I don’t want to stress him.”
“Are you kidding? He’ll be all for this. He loves having Maria around. It’s good for both of us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
She drew in a breath. Hoping. Praying. Needing him to say yes.
After a few heart-pounding seconds, Tomás nodded his agreement. Elation bubbled up inside her and she clapped her hands with glee, like Maria had when Papi suggested ice cream for dessert earlier.
Tomás’s lips curved in a shadowy tease of his usual grin.
“You’re an amazing woman, Yazmine Fernandez.” His raspy whisper sent shivers of awareness tingling through her.
He reached out to tuck her hair back. His fingers lingered, brushing along the shell of her ear, before his hand slipped down to cup her cheek. The heat of his touch warmed her heart and she nearly let her eyes drift closed so she could better savor the sensation.
Nearly.
Instead, she summoned the cheesy grin and forced sauciness that had hid her inner turmoil for years. “Did you ever doubt it?”
He chuckled, his dimple peeking out at her.
“And now that I know about your Perfect Partner Plan—”
“My what?” His hand slid from her cheek as he drew back.
“—you’ll really think I’m good when I hook you up with the right woman.” The idea stung, but the second item he’d listed—someone who wasn’t career focused—took her clean out of the running.
“Don’t even think about it,” Tomás warned, opening the front door.
“Thanks for the drink, Romeo. Don’t forget to practice with Maria this weekend. I’ll see you bright and early on Monday.”
She threw him an impudent wink for good measure, then sauntered away.
* * *
Saturday morning, Tomás awoke tired and cranky from a restless night. He opened his eyes, squinting in disgust at the scrap of brightly colored material lying on the pillow next to his.
After Yaz had left the night before, he’d gone into the family room intending to clean up the remains of their wine fest and hit the sack. Instead, his gaze had honed in on her scarf draped across the back of the sofa.
The next thing he knew he was settling onto the cushions, Yaz’s scarf in his hands. Her soft violet scent clung to the delicate material and he brought it to his nose, dragging in a deep breath. The silky scarf was more fashionable than winter worthy, but he’d relished the smoothness, imagining himself draping it around her neck, slowly tugging her in for a mind-numbing kiss.
The wine must have gone to his head. That was the only reason why he would have asked her to dance. Holding her in his arms had been a miscalculation. A sensory-overloading one. He’d come this close to kissing her, tasting the wine on her lips. Instead he’d spilled his guts about his past with Kristine. Yaz made it far too easy to relax in her company. Far too easy to let his guard down. He hadn’t felt that way with a woman since . . . hell, probably never.
He had allowed himself a few minutes to ponder the possibilities, then made himself get up and tidy their mess. However, rather than leave the scarf in the kitchen to return it on Monday, he’d flung it over his shoulder and headed to his room. Then he’d changed and washed up for bed. Alone.
All the while, the scarf lay like a tease in a pool of reds, blues, purples, and gold on his black sheets.
Ultimately he’d fallen asleep with the damn thing next to him, his mind going over the what-ifs and what-couldn’t-be’s. Even in his dreams, her subtle scent had tantalized him.
Now, with the sun shining through his curtains signaling a new day, he rolled out of bed, annoyed with himself for mooning over something he couldn’t, shouldn’t desire. Feeling out of sorts, he strode to the master bath, leaving his bed unmade and the scarf untouched.
Moments later he stood in the kitchen sipping a cup of steaming coffee, his mind bouncing back and forth between a sexy, appealing Yazmine Fernandez and the Linton Jewelry campaign, the traitorous scarf once again in his hands.
He stared out the kitchen window at the backyard, marveling at the blanket of snow covering Maria’s swing set, the wooden picnic table, and the shrubbery lining the perimeter of the fenced-in yard. Sunlight sparkled off the fresh snow as if shards of Linton diamonds had been sprinkled across the surface.
The perfect backdrop for the ad campaign? Maybe, if it featured Yazmine draped in colors to match the silky material she’d left behind. Diamonds glistening from her ears, around her elegant neck. Lips painted red, eyes shooting a come-hither glance beneath lowered lashes.
“Buenos días, Papá.”
Tomás started at Maria’s greeting. He turned to find her clambering up onto a stool at the island. Still dressed in her Disney princess footie pj’s, her hair sleep-mussed, her cheek sporting a crease from her sheets, she brought a lightness in his chest.
“Good morning, m’ija. Did you sleep well?”
“Sí. Hey, watcha got there? It’s pretty.” Maria set an elbow on the island top and cupped her chin in her hand.
Tomás held the scarf up for her to see. The material dangled in front of him, the sun glinting off the gold threads.
“That looks like Ms. Yazmine’s,” she said.
“I think it is. I found it in the family room. She probably left it here by accident.”
Yeah, because she’d been too busy teasing him about setting him up with a mom from the studio. The thought still made his gut clench with dread.
Maria frowned, a little line forming between her tiny brows. “Hmm, I thought she wored it last night. She showed me before her dance lesson. How’d it get here?”
Tomás bit back a chagrined smile. Figures, the one time he wished she wasn’t paying attention, his child shows off her skills of observation.
“Oh yeah, she stopped by to tell you good night after her class, but you were already sleeping,” he fibbed.
No need to admit his weakness—that when he’d heard her voice over the phone, the invitation to join him for a glass of wine flew from his lips before he thought better of it. The desire to see her, to spend more time in her company, had been too strong to resist.
“Can I try it on, please?” Maria tugged the end of the scarf. It slid through his fingers, reminding him of the silkiness of Yazmine’s hair when he touched it.
Images of the heated dreams that had invaded his sleep paraded through his mind. All of them starring Yazmine wearing her flimsy scarf, and not much else. His blood pulsed, instantly flowing to places it shouldn’t with his daughter around.
He forced his thoughts to more appropriate, safer avenues like work, or his and Maria’s plans for the day.
Admittedly, he wasn’t doing such a good job of thinking platonically when it came to Yazmine. At least he was aware of the problem. That was the important first step in keeping a leash on his attraction. He had the rest of the weekend to get a grip on things.
If not, come Monday, he’d be in trouble.
Chapter Ten
By the time Monday morning arrived, Tomás had come to a decision. Before he left for work, he’d find a way, a subtle way, to ask Yaz if she’d put him in touch with the mom from Hanson’s who’d asked about him.
It was the only solution to keep him from going crazy.
He’d spent the entire weekend thinking about Yaz’s damn scarf, barely stopping himself from asking Maria for it back so he could see if it still held Yaz’s subtle violet scent.
Even sitting at his desk, when his mind should have been on the Linton campaign, he’d found thoughts of her vying for his attention.
This insane infatuation had to stop.
It was all a sign, really. Without Mrs. B, his life was in turmoil, but he couldn’t rely on the nanny forever. Mrs. B was getting older, and she’d made it clear that she wanted to spend more time with her own grandchildren. Her family emergency was a glaring wake-up call, a warning that while he couldn’t raise Maria alone, having a live-in nanny might not be the best solution.
The American dream he’d always envisioned for himself featured a mom, a dad, and kids. It was time he took some action to create that ideal for his daughter.
Starting today.
Tomás leaned against the kitchen island nursing a cup of coffee, his mind turning over potential lead-ins to his question. Yaz sat on a stool across from him, going over the day’s schedule while Maria finished her cereal.
Fresh-faced, dressed in black leggings and an “I love DANCE” sweatshirt, her long hair woven in an intricate braid, Yaz resembled one of the high school girls she taught at Hanson’s. She grinned at one of Maria’s knock-knock jokes, her laughter-filled gaze sliding to brush over him before going back to Maria.
Awareness heated his blood, sending it surging south. Damn, he felt like a randy teen again, his libido spiraling out of control around the hot girl on the dance team. Years later he still couldn’t have her—for different reasons now.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” Maria hopped off her stool, eyes wide with concern. “I hafta get the book I borrowed from school! Be right back!”
She raced out of the kitchen, pigtails flying.
Now was his chance to ask.
Tomás cleared his throat before venturing in. “Between school, lunch, and her playdate, sounds like you two have a full day.”
Yaz nodded, reaching for Maria’s napkin to wipe up some milk splatters on the counter.
“By the way, if there are any notes from Maria’s school I should see, feel free to leave them on my desk like you did last week. And if you don’t mind, will you get me that phone number you mentioned Friday night and add it to the pile?”
Yaz’s hand paused mid-swipe. Her slack-jawed look of shock was not the reaction he’d anticipated. “Janet Miller’s? The mom from Hanson’s who asked about you?”
Tomás gulped. Maybe this was a mistake. He plunked his coffee mug on the island, ready to follow Maria and think of something he’d forgotten in his bedroom.
Then he noticed the infamous scarf fashionably tied around Yaz’s neck. Taunting him. His resolve to move forward hardened.
“It’s time. Mrs. B’s emergency, our talk the other night, it all got the wheels turning in my head.”
Not to mention, being around Yaz stirred up a hornet’s nest of thoughts and needs that swarmed around him, stingers ready to zoom in for the kill.
“Got your Perfect Partner Plan all figured out, huh?”
“I’m, uh, not actually calling it that.”
“Tomato, tomahto.” She picked up Maria’s bowl and edged past him on her way to the sink, not once making eye contact. “I guess when you decide to move, you move quickly.”
For a second he thought her smile seemed a little forced, but she bent to place the bowl in the dishwasher and Tomás couldn’t see her face anymore. Maybe he was projecting his own misgivings onto her. Dating again meant taking a huge step in a direction he’d tried to convince himself for years was not for him.
Yaz closed the dishwasher, then leaned a hip against the counter, her usual morning cheer dulled. “I’ll get the number from the studio and text it to you later.”
“Great, I appreciate it.”
Then why didn’t he feel any sense of excitement? Or his usual certainty when he set out on a course of action? Anything but this . . . emptiness.
“I’m ready!” Maria came bounding down the hallway, her purple and pink backpack slung over her shoulders.
So was he. Wading carefully into the dating pool, he’d be better able to provide for Maria.
Now that he had asked Yaz for the number, there was no turning back.
* * *
“Explain this to me again. With everything your dad’s going through, you take on a temporary nanny gig? What gives?”
Cheryl motioned for Yaz to scoot over on the old floral couch in the back room at Center Stage.
What gives?
Dios mío, if that wasn’t the million-dollar question.
With an hour until the shop opened at ten, she and Cheryl had the whole store to themselves. They had finished organizing boxes for inventory and had gravitated toward their favorite “girl talk” spot in high school.
The sofa material had faded and the cushions were now lumpy, but the smell of dance shoes, makeup, and packaging material set off a slide show of fond memories in Yaz’s mind. Good or bad, Yaz had shared it with Cheryl—here, in this corner of the room. Surrounded by the tools of her trade.
Head resting on the back cushion, Yaz stared blankly up at the ceiling. “Where should I begin?”
“How about with how your father’s doing?”
“Ay, not good. I mean, we’re really not—” Her voice shook and she broke off.
“Oh, I am so sorry.” Cheryl pressed a hand against Yazmine’s thigh in sympathy. “I thought he was getting better.”
“So did we. Rosa, Lilí, and I found out over Thanksgiving that Dr. Lopez is running some new tests. We’re all meeting with him Saturday morning when the girls are back.”
“Isn’t that the day of the Christmas recital?”
“Mm-hmm. But Lilí gets in late Friday night for holiday break, and we didn’t want to wait until Monday to know the test results.” Her eyes stung and the ceiling became a blur. A tear snuck out to trail down her temple and she swiped it away, hating the sign of weakness.
“Hey, come here.” Cheryl pulled her into a comforting bear hug. “I can’t say it’s going to be all right. But I know you’ll be okay. No matter what happens. I’ll be here, whatever you need.”
Yaz hugged her back, relieved to have her best friend by her side again. “I’m so glad you’re back. I’ve missed our talks.”
“Me too. It’s good to be home.” Cheryl eased back and pulled her legs up to sit tailor fashion on the sofa. “But if your dad’s not doing well, how did you wind up volunteering to take care of this little girl? I mean, you never even babysat in high school.”
True, but now was different. She was different.
“What’s her name?” Cheryl asked.
“Maria.” Yaz’s spirits buoyed at the thought of her little partner in crime. Tomás had dubbed them that the other day when he’d walked into Maria’s room and found them in dress-up mode—complete with full makeup and up-dos. “She’s actually one of my students at Hanson’s. Oh, and she goes to Bright Minds. We’ll stop by your room next week when you start so you can meet her. She’s in the kindergarten class.”
“Wait, that’s my new room!”
Yaz perked up, excited about the idea that Maria might be in Cheryl’s class. “I thought they gave you the three-year-olds.”
“They wound up moving a few teaching assistants around. Plus, there’s talk about adding another kindergarten class next year, so my plan is to apply for that teacher position.” Cheryl propped her elbow along the back of the couch to rest her head against her palm. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re nannying. When Mom told me, I thought she’d gotten you and Rosa mixed up.”
“Funny, aren’t you?” Yaz shot Cheryl a droll look and her friend stuck out her tongue.
“You know what I mean,” Cheryl said. “You were always so focused. So driven. You didn’t have time for anything else. God, how I envied you and your certainty.”
“Yeah, well, life’s not so black and white anymore, is it?” Yaz murmured. There were no easy answers. Not to the questions she faced.
“What’s going on with you?” Cheryl nudge
d Yazmine’s shoulder with her fist. “Come on, spit it out.”
Yaz turned her head to look at her friend. Cheryl’s gray eyes studied her.
Here was her chance to vent. Get all her doubts out in the open. Hit the release valve on the tension that had been percolating inside her for a few years now.
“Have you ever wondered how different your life would be if you’d made a different choice along the way?” Yazmine’s whispered words hung in the air. As close to a confession as she could bring herself to admit aloud.
“Are you kidding me?” Cheryl huffed out a breath. “Don’t you remember? I’m the girl who changed her major five times before settling on early childhood education.”
“And if I recall correctly, I had suggested teaching to you from the beginning.” Yaz tapped her chest with a finger, giving Cheryl an I-know-it-all smirk.
“I’ll give you that. But you’re also the one who, when you met Ronnie last Christmas, told me he and I would get married, and look how that ended up.”
Yaz winced. Not one of her finer predictions. “I swear, that boy was so enamored, I figured he’d already bought your ring.”
“Me too.” Pain filled Cheryl’s eyes, turning them a stormy gray. “Who knew that at twenty-five we’d still be sitting here on this old couch together, licking our wounds after messy break-ups, huh?”
“Well, Victor was a self-centered, cheating jerk. But Ronnie . . .” Yaz shrugged, uncertain whether Cheryl was ready to hear that Yaz truly thought her ex was a nice guy. Not with the breakup so fresh. “You’re sure it’s really over between you two?”
“We were together four years. I told him I needed a commitment or I was taking this job and moving three hours away. And here I am!” Cheryl opened her arms wide to encompass the entire back room.
Wow, what a pair they made. At least Cheryl’s career was moving in the right direction. Yaz had sidelined herself for what many thought might be too long in her profession.
Maybe they were right. Or, maybe that was the scared, insecure side of her. The part of her Victor’s harsh words had hit with a sniper’s accuracy. “What would you say if I told you I was thinking about a major cha—”
His Perfect Partner Page 13
