by Judy Duarte
Yet he seemed oblivious to his sister’s assumptions and did nothing to set her at ease.
“How about lunch someday?” Yolanda asked. “I’m free on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
Samantha hadn’t expected such a quick response, but her calendar was clear. “Sure.”
“If you give me your number, I’ll call later in the week, and we can choose a day that works for both of us.”
Samantha reached into her purse, pulled out a pen and the little notepad she carried, and scratched out her cell number. Then she tore out the small sheet and handed it to Hector’s sister.
She wasn’t sure if the two of them would actually get together. People often said things like that upon meeting, but then dropped the ball for one reason or another. Either way, whether they met for lunch or not, she’d be okay with it.
It’s not as though she was desperate to find friends, although in a sense she needed to connect with someone. For the longest time, her life had revolved around Peter and his family, then her mom. So she’d lost a lot when her husband died and even more when her mother passed away.
Besides, with the babies coming, it wasn’t a good time to be alone.
There was a support group for expectant mothers at the clinic that she’d considered joining. It was just that she felt a little uneasy in a crowd, especially when meeting people for the first time. And for that reason, a one-on-one lunch with Yolanda was far more appealing.
“Would you two like to join us?” Hector asked. “We can ask the waiter to give us a bigger table.”
Yolanda brightened, but before she could speak, Chad responded. “Thanks for asking, Hector, but I planned a romantic dinner tonight.”
“Oh, honey, that’s so sweet.” Yolanda turned to her husband and smiled. “But it might be fun to—”
Chad put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and drew her close. “I didn’t tell you yet, but the company’s got me scheduled to work a lot of overtime for the next month or two. So this might be our last chance for a special evening. And with the baby coming…?”
Yolanda nodded, then placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “In that case, we’re going to have to pass on joining you tonight. Maybe, when Chad has more free time, we can make it a double date.”
Samantha waited for Hector to correct his sister about the date comment, but he didn’t.
Instead, Yolanda added, “So what do you think of the Old World Bistro? Isn’t it great?”
“I like the setting and décor.” Hector lifted his wine glass, tilting it just a tad. “The merlot is good, too, but the jury’s still out on the food. We’ll let you know after we eat.”
“Just wait until you try the spinach salad,” Yolanda said. “You’re going to love it.”
Chad gave Yolanda an affectionate squeeze. “We don’t want to keep the hostess waiting, so we’ll let you two get back to your menus.” Then he ushered her back to the table they’d been given.
But as they walked away, Yolanda glanced over her shoulder, taking one last look at Samantha, her curiosity evident.
Samantha waited until Chad and Yolanda were clearly out of hearing range, then said, “Your sister thinks that I’m your date tonight.”
A grin curled the corners of his mouth, setting off a pair of impish dimples and a glimmer in those pretty brown eyes. “I know.”
Samantha placed a hand on her rounded belly. “And she thinks that you’ve been hiding a big secret.”
Hector chuckled. “It’s going to drive her crazy until she learns the details.”
“You kept her in the dark on purpose?”
“Yolanda’s a great sister, but I can’t help giving her a hard time every once in a while.”
Samantha didn’t have a sister—or a brother, for that matter. So she didn’t understand the dynamics at play in the Garza family.
Would her three children grow up to care about what was happening in each others’ lives? To tease each other in a goodhearted way? She hoped so. It all seemed so normal, so loving.
She glanced across the restaurant at Yolanda and Chad’s table and caught Hector’s sister looking at her again. Then Samantha offered Hector a smile. “Whatever you’re up to seems to be working. Her wheels are definitely turning.”
“If you think she’s wondering now, watch this.” Hector reached across the table and took Samantha’s hand in his.
The surprise of his touch, the heat of it, nearly knocked the wind right out of her. As his thumb caressed her skin, her heart soared.
She could have pulled her hand away, she supposed. In fact, she really should have. But she was so taken aback by the bold move, so caught up in it, that she sought his gaze instead. And while she’d expected to see those impish dimples, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that reflected the whimsical game he was playing with his sister, something entirely different passed between them, something blood-stirring.
Something real? she wondered.
Too real to ponder, she decided. The handsome bachelor sitting across from her was playing a game, all right, but on her senses. And so was the romantic ambience—the candles, the red roses on the table.
She clicked her tongue and drew back her hand, trying her best to regroup. “You need to stop teasing her, Hector. Or you’ll really have some explaining to do. In fact, your phone will probably be ringing off the hook before you can unlock your front door.”
He smiled again, but the playful glimmer in his eyes had completely disappeared, and a shadow of something altogether different had taken its place.
Something serious, something heart-stirring. Something a woman in Samantha’s delicate condition had no business toying around with.
Then whatever had simmered in his eyes and had sizzled in the air around them faded as quickly as it had settled over her, leaving her to wonder if she’d imagined it all.
What had started out as an opportunity to tease Yolanda earlier this evening had morphed into something else the moment Hector had touched Samantha’s hand and looked into her eyes, and his playful plan had quickly fallen by the wayside.
He tried to blame it on the evening, on the romantic setting, but he feared there was more going on than that, which caused him to withdraw.
They finished their dinner without another touch, another heated gaze, but he’d been on edge for the rest of their time together.
After paying the bill, he orchestrated a brief stop at his sister’s table to thank her for the restaurant suggestion and to say goodbye. Then he and Samantha headed back to Primrose Lane. As they drove, he turned on the radio and found his favorite station. He thought a little music would eliminate the need to make conversation. And, for the most part, it worked, until Joe Cocker began singing “You Are So Beautiful.”
He parked in his driveway, still a bit off-balance and eager to end the evening and set his world to rights.
As he walked her home, the moon and stars were especially bright, and the scent of night-blooming jasmine laced the air. Apparently, in spite of his best intentions, a romantic mood was going to dog him all evening long.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said. “It was nice getting out, and the food was great.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Your sister was right. The Old World Bistro is wonderful.”
“Yes, it is.” And far more romantic than Hector had expected.
For a moment, he had the strongest compulsion to touch her, to cup her cheek, to press a good-night kiss upon her lips.
But that would be utterly foolish.
And so would lollygagging at her front door until he lost his resolve to keep things neighborly—and completely platonic.
“I’ll see you around,” he said, making a decision to steer clear of her for a while.
She nodded. “Take care.”
As he returned to his car so he could park it in the garage, he realized that Samantha had made a quick escape easy for him.
Apparently, she hadn’t read anything into tha
t momentary rush when he’d touched her hand—thank goodness for that. Whatever crazy romantic notions that might have crossed his mind had been put to rest.
He heard her door close behind him, and it took all he had not to turn, to look over his shoulder.
But he didn’t want to give her any ideas. And he didn’t want things to become any more awkward between them. They were, after all, neighbors and bound to run into each other more often than not.
He pulled the car into the garage, then let himself into the house. He’d no more than opened the door, stepped into the living room and reached for the light switch when his phone rang. He took his time answering, assuming it was his sister on the line. Yolanda had been trying to hook him up with someone—anyone—for the past six months.
When he answered, Yolanda skipped the formalities of a greeting and launched right into the reason for the call. “Okay, Hector. What gives? Who is Samantha? Where did you meet her? And better yet, who’s the father of her baby?”
“Hang on a minute. I just walked in.” If he hadn’t actually struggled with some real-life attraction tonight, he would have considered her inquisition amusing. But as it was, he didn’t find anything remotely funny about it now.
He slipped the house keys into his pocket, took a seat in the easy chair and kicked off his shoes. “I was expecting your call.”
“Don’t give me a hard time. You can’t blame me for wondering. I’ve been trying to talk you into settling down forever. But maybe I shouldn’t have bothered. It looks like you might have already found someone.”
“Slow down, sis. Samantha is my neighbor. And since she’s a single mom, I thought she deserved a night out. We’re just friends.”
“She’s not pregnant with your baby?”
“Nope. ’Fraid not.”
He could hear the disappointment in her sigh, and he decided to set her straight. “If the woman I got involved with was expecting my baby, my family would definitely know about it.”
“I guess you’re right. But you can be so secretive at times.”
“Relax. Samantha’s a nice woman. But no, we’re not involved.”
“I’m actually sorry to hear that.”
“I’m sure you are.”
Recently, Hector’s parents had joined his sister in pressuring him to remarry, to start a family and to enjoy the fruits of his labor. According to his brother, Diego, they were proud of him and his Horatio Alger success, but they were worried about him and his nonexistent social life.
He’d tried to explain to them that a woman and kids didn’t fit into his life, which was why his first marriage didn’t last.
“Samantha is a beautiful woman,” Yolanda said. “Aren’t you the least bit interested in her?”
A bit too much, he realized. “Come on, sis. She’s pregnant.”
“I guess that means you’re not attracted to expectant mothers, and I can see why you wouldn’t be. I was looking in the mirror one morning and realized I was as getting to be as wide as I am tall. I started to cry—I do a lot of that these days—but Chad was such a sweetheart. He told me he loved me and said that I was more appealing to him now than ever before. He seemed sincere, so I sure hope he meant it.”
“He did mean it,” Hector said. “I can’t imagine how exciting it must be for him to know that a baby was created out of your love for each other. And looking at you, seeing that the baby is growing and getting ready for birth, has to be a real thrill for him.”
“Thanks, Hector. I needed to hear that.” She paused for a moment, as if taking it all in. “So I guess that means Samantha’s pregnancy is a turnoff to you since it’s not your baby.”
It certainly should have been, but for some reason, it wasn’t, and he had no idea why. But since he didn’t understand it himself, he certainly couldn’t explain it to someone else. So he decided to change the subject. “Hey, I’ve got a question for you.”
“What’s that?”
“Even though Samantha and I aren’t dating, do you still plan to give her a call?”
“I told her I would. And she seems like a nice person. Do you have a problem with us having lunch together?”
“No, not at all. I think it would be nice if you did. Her mother died recently, so she’s pretty much alone.”
“What about the baby’s father?” she asked.
“He’s out of the picture—completely.”
“And so you’re looking out for her?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“Hmm. Now, that’s really interesting, Hector.”
He blew out a sigh. “Stop trying to read things into this.”
“Okay, I won’t. But don’t you wish you had someone in your life again? Someone to come home to?”
“Not if she’s like Patrice.”
“You see similarities between Samantha and your ex-wife?”
Actually? Not a single one. But if he gave his sister any idea that he was interested in Samantha—well, he wasn’t; he couldn’t be. So he couldn’t let Yolanda jump on an idea like that, or he’d never hear the end of it. And neither would Samantha, if the two women did end up having lunch together.
“So you’re glad to be footloose and single?” his sister asked.
“Of course.” He scanned his living room, which was cluttered with this morning’s newspaper, a copy of Golf Digest, an empty beer bottle he’d forgotten to take to the kitchen a couple of days ago, a golf scorecard he was rather proud of.
If Patrice were here, she’d be bitching about how messy he was. Not that he didn’t like a clean house; he wasn’t a slob. If he spilled something, he mopped it up. And he never let the trash pile up until things smelled rotten.
He just didn’t always pick up after himself. But he had a maid come in once a week, and she did the things he didn’t have the time or the inclination to do.
And she never complained.
“You don’t miss having a wife?” Yolanda asked.
“Why would I? I take my dirty clothes to the laundry, and my shirts come back starched the way I like them. I eat at my favorite restaurants, and for the most part, my house is clean. It’s easier that way.”
“But you’re also missing out on love and companionship.”
“I’m happy,” he told his sister. “You’ve never heard me complain.”
But he had to admit, at least to himself, that it wasn’t all that fun coming home to a dark, empty house.
Or sleeping alone in a king-size bed.
Odd, he thought. Before Samantha moved back home, he hadn’t given either much thought.
Chapter Four
The next morning, as Hector walked out to get the morning newspaper, he noticed quite a few of the neighbors had taken their recycling bins and their rubbish to the curb, which was a reminder that it was trash day.
Samantha hadn’t yet taken out hers, either. And the truck always came early.
Maybe she’d overslept. Or maybe she’d completely forgotten it was Thursday.
Hector hated to think of her struggling with the bins and cans, especially in her condition. So even though he’d made up his mind to put a little distance between them from now on, he would offer to take her garbage out to the street for her.
He carried the newspaper with him, strode to her stoop and rang the bell. When the door swung open, he braced himself to see her wearing a robe, her hair tousled from sleep. But she was dressed for the day in a pair of black slacks and a light green blouse. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, which made her look a bit younger than she had last night. A bit more vulnerable—and sad.
“Did you forget what day it is?” he asked.
Her brow furrowed. “No, I haven’t forgotten. But how did you know?”
“Because everyone else has already carried their garbage to the curb. I was just about to drag mine out and thought I’d offer to take yours, too.”
“Oh,” she said, her voice a gentle wisp. “You mean, it’s trash day.”
“What did
you think I was talking about?”
“It’s…” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, today was my mom’s birthday.”
Oh, crap. No wonder she seemed so down. “I’m sorry, Samantha. I guess this is going to be a tough day for you.”
“I don’t want it to be, so I’m going to drive out to the cemetery for a while this morning.” She gave a little shrug and went on to explain. “It seems like the right thing to do. Then I’m going to go shopping. I’d like to buy some wallpaper for the nursery, which will give me something else to think about for the rest of the day.”
In spite of his resolve to distance himself, he just couldn’t do it. Not today. Not when she would be thinking about her mother and realizing how alone she was. But her plan to focus on the baby, on the future, was a good one. In fact, he suspected that had been her reason for getting pregnant in the first place. She probably wanted to re-create a family for herself.
“My sister chose a jungle theme for her nursery,” he said, wanting to keep her mind on the baby instead of her mom. “You ought to see it. She and Chad had a lot of fun setting up everything.”
Great, he thought. He’d just tossed out a reminder that she didn’t have a husband, either.
“I’ll bet it’s really cute. I’m not sure what kind of theme I’d like. I’ve still got a lot of time to decide.”
He couldn’t help glancing at her belly, noting the size of the mound. She seemed to be even bigger today than she had been last night, although that was probably only a result of the clothing she’d chosen to wear. But still, he doubted that she had as much time to prepare for the baby as she thought she did—probably only a couple of months or so.
“If I find some prints that I like, I’ll probably bring them home and think about it. Maybe you can help me decide which one to use.”
Picking out baby stuff was the last thing he wanted to do, but under the circumstances, how could he tell her no? “Sure, I’ll do that. It sounds like fun.”
