Love Over Lattes

by Diana A. Hicks

  My legs turned to jelly, and I squeezed them together. Stop staring at him.

  “I should tell you. My credit score is not where it needs to be. But I swear I’m never late with payments.”

  “Valentina.” He handed me a pen. Heat rushed to my cheeks. Every time he said my name, the air filled with an electrical charge that slowly wrapped around my core and muted any logical thought. “Just sign.”

  Chapter Six

  A Bit of Relief

  Cole

  I sat on a lounge chair and fired up my laptop. Of course, Bridget had tried to revoke my access to CCI, my own company. I closed my eyes, heat roiling in my belly. She never understood what it was I did. All she knew was that I managed our customers’ data network. The how was never important to her.

  I leaned back, and my gaze darted across the landscape. The morning sunlight glinted on puddles of rainwater across the terra-cotta tiles on the terrace. It’d be hot as hell later today, but for now, a breeze blew across the desert and into my backyard. Monsoon season had arrived early this year.

  When the computer finished booting, I accessed the main server, using a ghost profile I’d created. In matter of minutes, I’d found my way to the personnel files and had Valentina’s profile up on the screen. I rubbed the back of my neck. My heart had skipped a beat yesterday when she wrote CCI as her employer on the lease application. One way or another, Valentina was meant to be part of my world. If we hadn’t met at Cafe Triste, we would’ve met at work, eventually.

  I scanned the rest of her employee page. She was an information systems major with emphasis on data networks. She had a minor in astronomy, and she was bilingual. Good girl. Her transcripts showed she had a four-point-zero GPA. I smiled at the screen, turning my attention to the role tab. She’d been assigned to contracts and reporting. A good place to start, but she’d be a better fit in the development group. With her lists, I bet Valentina could project manage the heck out of anything.

  Her salary was ridiculous, cringe worthy. Bridget and I had often gotten into it over what we each thought were fair wages. But as the CEO, I always had the final say. She didn’t take long to correct the matter the minute the board kicked me out. No wonder Valentina didn’t have enough money to pay off her debt and find decent housing.

  “You’re in a cheery mood this morning.” Em set a basket of her signature puff-pastry apple pies on the table.

  “I’m tackling the repairs in the cottage today.” I eyed the small house across the courtyard.

  After Valentina’d signed the lease last night, she’d taken two minutes flat to climb back into her little car and careen out of my driveway. I’d let her go. She’d be back. By my estimation, that’d be Sunday at the latest, which meant I had three days to get the house fixed. Hiring someone to patch up the wall and take care of the water damage would be easy, but Em was right—though I’d never admit that to her. This was a mess I needed to clean on my own.

  Em pressed her lips in a half smile. “And the mail? I know you don’t like me saying this, but there’s a new envelope waiting for you.”

  “Yeah, I’ll take a look.” For once, the thought of tackling divorce papers didn’t make my stomach roll. I grabbed a mini puff and bit into it. The light sweetness of the apple and the spiciness of the cinnamon in the warm filling swirled in my mouth in a kind of dance. I didn’t much care for sugary treats, but these pastries were hard to resist.

  Sitting back on the lounge chair, I glanced at the cottage. Certain things in life were just that: irresistible…like Valentina’s mouth. I licked gooey stuff off the pad of my thumb and adjusted the napkin over my crotch. What would it be like to kiss her lips?

  I sat up. Jesus, I can’t go there. I’m not that kind of asshole.

  Having Valentina so close brought me peace. She had something that made me feel alive whenever I was around her. That was all I needed. For six months, I sat next to her in the coffeehouse, and that was enough. Yeah, we were neighbors now, and if I had to be honest, the way she looked at me sometimes made my blood boil. In a good way. But getting further involved with her would ruin what we had. I would ruin it.

  Shit. I raked a hand through my hair and squeezed it into a fist. I had to figure out a way to keep my distance. Valentina didn’t deserve to get caught up in all my bullshit. I didn’t want to be the one to cause her more pain. She’d already been through a lot.

  The usual flutter darted across my belly and chest. It was there every time I thought of her. Every time I saw desire in her eyes—not that she’d ever do anything about it. A smile pulled at the side of my mouth. I’d never seen anyone with that kind of self-control. Where did it come from? What was holding her back?

  “You look like you’re up to something.” Em had breakfast laid out on the table, enough for two people.

  “What?” I laughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You need to let her be. She seems like a good girl. A girl who’s been through a lot.” She clasped her hands together and eyed me over the rim of her glasses.

  “I thought so too.” I leaned forward, reaching for the coffee. “What do you think happened to her? She walks around like she’s carrying a heavy armor. Like she was hurt bad.”

  “No.” Em shook her head. “I’m not going to help you seduce her.”

  I choked on the hot liquid. Coughing, I grabbed the water goblet and sipped in between coughs. After I recovered, I swallowed and put up my index finger to make my point. “One. I don’t need your help in that department. And two. I had already resolved to stay away from her. What kind of an asshole do you think I am?”

  “The kind who’s in pain. And would do anything for a bit of relief.”

  Sucker punch in the gut. I blew out air. “I’m not discussing this with you.” Heat rushed to my cheeks. Maybe it was because of the accuracy of her statement or maybe because I was discussing sex with sixty-year-old Em.

  She snorted as she placed a second setting across from me. “I’ve been clearing naked women out of your guest room for months now, and this is the thing that embarrasses you?” She poured more coffee in my cup.

  “I’m not doing this.” I threw the napkin on the table and leaned back, arms crossed. The woman could be impossible at times. “Who’s this for?” She was going overboard with the table setting.

  “Just think about it. You have other things to take care of first.”

  I had nothing to think about. Valentina needed a place to stay, and I happened to have one. Just that. I had no plans to seduce her. I needed her near me. That was it.

  “The gate called ten minutes ago. Dom is on his way here.”

  “Actually, I’ve been downstairs for a while. Holy shit, these muffins are good.” Dom’s deep voice boomed as he came up the stone steps. He’d gone out the patio door in the living room and come up to find me on the terrace. “Man, I forgot how massive this place is.” He went to hug Em first. His six-three frame towered over her, though she didn’t seem to mind as she wrapped her arms around his waist, beaming. He squeezed her arm. “Is this asshole treating you right?”

  “Don’t they have barbers in New York?” Em reached up with both hands to grab the dark hair growing over his ears. “You need a haircut and a shave.” She rubbed the stubble on his cheeks.

  He chuckled. “The ladies don’t seem to mind.”

  “I’m sure they don’t.” She shook her head. “Now that you’re here, maybe you can talk some sense into this one. Now sit and eat. I have more muffins baking.” She patted his belly and went back inside.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he called after her.

  I stood and greeted him with a hug. “You made it, brother.”

  “Yeah. You finally got me out here. What’s up with this fucking heat, huh?” He took the chair across from me, throwing a legal envelope on the table before loading up his plate with the frittata and fruit. “No time to beat around the bushes, man.” He pointed at the papers. “It’s Bridget’s late
st proposal. Read it.”

  Stomach churning, I took a deep calming breath and opened it. Bridget and I were married for ten months, but for whatever fucked-up reason, she didn’t think walking away with half my assets was compensation enough. She wanted more. My muscles tensed as I glared at the document. She wanted my company, the one I built from the ground up. When she came to work for me, I was already a brand. Her job was to run the business while I focused on the stuff that really mattered to me—my people. What would be the point of being the boss if I didn’t get to do what I really liked?

  “It’s been seven months.” I focused on the writing in front of me. “Is it me, or is she all of the sudden in a hurry to finalize the terms of our divorce?” God, I was so sick and tired of this bullshit.

  “This is the second proposal in the last two weeks. I’d say she’s feeling motivated to end this.”

  I read on. The motion was loaded with legal jargon, but at the heart of it all, Bridget’s voice was in there, terse and calculated, as if she had dictated the entire text to her lawyer. She was willing to waive her rights to most of the properties I owned, but she still wasn’t letting up on the communications company. Why not? I read page after page, picturing her narrow face, her pursed lips.

  The underlying tone to her words was hard to miss. She blamed me for the failure of our marriage. And she was probably right, but in no way did that justify what she did. If she wasn’t happy in our marriage, all she had to do was ask for a damn divorce, not wait for me to find her in bed with our accountant. That spineless jerk. In the end, the thing that hurt the most, or rather, the only thing that hurt was her betrayal. We were partners. I thought she cared about CCI as much as I did. I was an idiot for not seeing that Bridget only cared about herself.

  The question remained. Was I ready to give up my company in exchange for my freedom? Did I have the strength to start over, build a new company? I wasn’t sure. I swallowed the lump in my throat and rubbed my eyes. My freedom was something only Bridget could give back. She’d won.

  “How you doin’, man?” Dom brought me back. “What’re you gonna do?”

  I grabbed the proposal and signed it. “Tell her I agree to her terms.” The need to move on with my life had won over.

  “Well, fuck me.” He leaned forward, his dark eyebrows pinched together in a frown. “How about we give it another thirty days, hmm? That’s how long they gave us to respond.”

  “I thought you wanted me to sign,” I said.

  “No. I wanted you to tell me what you wanted to do so I could give you advice. I’m your lawyer. Let me give you some fucking advice.”

  I laughed. I’d met Dom in college. A boy from Jersey, he was a no-fuss, no-bullshit kind of guy. Loyal. My kind of guy. Back when we first met, Dom didn’t give a fuck about anything, which was why I’d been surprised when he’d decided to go to Columbia after college. But as it turned out, that was truly his calling. Up until I lured him to Arizona, he’d been one of the best lawyers in New York City. Probably because he didn’t give a fuck.

  “Advise away.”

  “I ran into Bridget yesterday during lunch. She was eating at the same restaurant as Nikki, by the way. I wonder if she knows about you two. Em tells me Nikki spent the night the other day. Again.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Nikki and I are not a thing.”

  “Really? I mean, yeah, she’s trouble, but man…” He blew out air. “She’s something else.”

  “Not interested.”

  He shrugged. “If you say so. Anyway, Bridget and I talked for a while, and you know what? She seemed desperate.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “She hit on me.” He did a mock shiver and pointed a finger at me. “That woman is hiding something. I already hired an investigator. If she’s got something fishy cooking, we’re gonna find out.”

  “Fishy? Like what?” I bit the inside of my bottom lip, feeling a jolt through my body. Desperation was something Bridget didn’t quite know how to handle. She was used to getting her way. Was the long wait finally getting to her?

  “Dunno. All I know is that she’s desperate.”

  “Okay, that might be good for us. We’ll do it your way for now. Let me know if something turns up.”

  “Will do.” He stood. “Hey. Wanna do drinks later this week?” he said as a way of saying good-bye.

  “Sure. Come over any time.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He placed his hands on his hips. “Come down from this ivory tower of yours. Let’s have a couple of shots like normal dudes, at a bar.”

  “Yeah, okay.” He was right. A bit of normal would be good. I glanced at the cottage, wishing Valentina hadn’t left yesterday.

  “Let me know when you have time.” He headed for the stone steps.

  “I’m available every night.” I followed behind to walk him out.

  “Now I feel like an asshole.” He spun to face me, raking a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna fix this for you, brother. You hear?”

  I nodded. “Thanks. ’Preciate that.”

  “Let’s do drinks tonight. Seven, no make it six.”

  “Done,” I said.

  “Done.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Stay. I can see myself out. I wanna see if those muffins are ready.” He turned around and left the way he’d come in.

  From day one, Bridget couldn’t stand the sight of Dom. She used to say his personality made her dizzy. Dropping the f-bomb every three seconds was unprofessional and disrespectful in her mind. Maybe she was right. But Dom’s lack of filter was what’d made me trust him in the first place. With him, I could always count on getting the truth, no sugar coating, no hidden agenda. If she hit on him, she had to be desperate. She wanted something bad. But what? What did she want that wasn’t already on the settlement agreement?

  I straddled the low stone wall, gazing at Valentina’s house. Something I didn’t recognize fluttered in my chest. How long had it been since the last time I felt anything?

  My body stood at attention when tire tracks on the gravel came into focus. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? That was her car in the side driveway. Taking two steps at a time, I rushed down. When I reached the cottage, the door and all the windows were wide open. My cock reacted immediately. Valentina was here.

  A small speaker blaring out “She Looks So Perfect” sat on the kitchen counter. Next to it was a sheet of paper, one of her lists. I looked behind me before I peeked at it. According to the list, Valentina was moving in on Saturday. I rubbed the stubble on my face, smiling. Just like that, all the bad in my life got muted.

  Yesterday, she hadn’t been able to give me a move-in date. She said she had to talk it over with her mom. I had a feeling her mom wasn’t too keen on Valentina and her son living on their own, which would explain why Valentina couldn’t find an apartment. A recent grad with bad credit would need a cosigner. I’d be willing to bet her parents said no to that—easiest way to keep her and Max home.

  But Valentina had already proven she deserved a place of her own. I wasn’t sure why, but something gave me the impression she’d been trying for a long while to make up for her one slip six years back. Maybe it was her face when she told me about her son, Max. It’d sounded like a confession of sorts.

  I’d assumed Max’s dad wasn’t in the picture. But now that I thought of it, she never really explained what was going on there. I should get the guy’s name and do a background check. That kind of information could come in handy. I bet he walked off on her. What kind of a jerk gets a woman pregnant and then takes off? As if she didn’t matter.

  Going through the kitchen, I opened the cupboards. She had already moved in some dishes. Probably the stuff she had in her dorm. The fridge was also stocked with milk, fruit, and vegetables. And two bottles of bubbly wine. A champagne girl.

  I followed her voice to the bathroom. She was in the shower, cleaning the rusted tile with a toothbrush. Who knew how long I’d stood there, watching her singing happily to a b
oy band song? How could she look this sexy wearing a pair of yoga pants and tank top while in the shower?

  The day before she’d worn a gray pencil skirt with a navy-blue cropped top and high heels that kept me up all night. What would it be like to have those long legs wrapped around my waist? She was barefoot now. What would she look like covered in suds and nothing else? What am I doing? I wasn’t an asshole, but that didn’t make me a saint. I had to get out of here.

  “Oh my God, you scared me.” She turned to face me, her cheeks flushed.

  “Good morning.” I rubbed the back of my head, having found the decency to feel embarrassed for stalking her in her own home. “I’m sorry. The door was open, and I heard music. I…what’re you listening to?”

  “What? It’s the top-fifty station.”

  “You mean the teen radio station.” I strode to the kitchen under the pretense of turning off the music. Really, I just wanted to remove myself from the current scene. I reached for her device, but she blocked me, putting herself between the mobile and me. Okay, this wasn’t an improvement. Now I had her within reach, and that gardenia smell of hers was wreaking havoc in my pants.

  “It’s still good music.”

  “You know those guys are like sixteen, right?”

  Her laugh was light and carefree. “They are not.”

  “I didn’t know you’d be here today.” I changed the subject before she noticed I was jealous of a boy band.

  “I wanted to get a jump start on the cleaning.” She gave me a bright smile. “I’d like to be all settled in by Saturday. If that’s okay?”

  Right. Her list said so. I’d bet it would happen just as she planned. I should give that a try sometime. What would my list look like?

  1. Go out for a run

  2. Eat breakfast

  3. Help Valentina clean the cottage

  4. Take her back to my room

  5. Kiss her gently until she begged me to undress her