Chasing Marisol (Blueprint to Love Book 3)

by Giordano, Lauren

  Marisol Ortega. With him. On a date.

  With Hector playing chaperone. . . But why get caught up in details? Technically— it was still a date.

  "I won gek sif."

  "Finish chewing before you speak. Where are your manners, tonight?" Mari reminded. "Jeff can wait to hear your answer. He doesn't need to see all that pizza rolling around in your mouth."

  Hiding his smile, Jeff wasn't surprised when Hector cracked up. Reminding the little boy of the mess in his mouth would only entice him to show it again. Her lecture would have the opposite effect of what she hoped for.

  "She's right. A gentleman keeps his mouth shut when he's eating— especially when it's pizza." He softened his words with a wink. "We don't want Mari getting sick all over the place, do we? Then we wouldn't be able to stop at the park after dinner."

  As expected, Hector took immediate notice and sat up straight. His mouth slammed shut. Hearing her exasperated sigh from across the table, Jeff tried not to gloat. "Something wrong, Miss Ortega?"

  "That’s much better, Hector." Ignoring him, she acknowledged the little boy's efforts before reluctantly meeting his gaze. The luscious mouth he'd spent weeks considering, twitched with the effort not to smile.

  "Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Traynor. You've been very helpful this evening. I'd planned to ask you back to our home later, but since I might get sick all over the place . . . I wouldn't want to burden you with that possibility."

  You had to appreciate a woman who thought on her feet. "I am willing to assume that risk."

  Hector's eyes widened as he tried to follow their conversation. "Are you sick, mama? Can we still go to the park?"

  "I'm fine, love. We’re only joking." Her beautiful eyes remained locked on him when she tousled Hector's curly hair. "Remember the dessert we made earlier? Didn't you want to ask Jeff something?"

  Hector's fork clattered to the table as he bolted up in his seat. "Oh, yeah. I forgot." He turned, big, brown eyes suddenly serious. "Jeff— we made brownies after school today. Before you gots us-"

  "I love brownies." He couldn't help smiling over the little guy's excitement.

  Hector's face lit up. "Mari said you would. She says all boys like chocolate. We want you to come inside and have brownies with us— after the park." He turned to check with her. "And maybe we can have ice cream with them?"

  She nodded. "If you’re a good listener at the park."

  Jeff relaxed in his chair. So far, the evening was progressing perfectly. He'd been surprised earlier to acknowledge he was nervous. All day, he'd been eager for this night to arrive. Not wanting to be late, he'd allowed extra time. But her directions had been spot on.

  Yet when he'd pulled into her driveway, he'd hesitated. Convincing Marisol had taken twenty-nine days. Jeff had lost track of how many times he'd officially asked her— but it was easily a dozen. He didn't want to blow a month of effort with a mistake. His heart had actually been pounding when he rang the bell. But then she'd opened the door— gorgeous, sea blue eyes welcoming. And here they were. A fun dinner with a sweet little boy and a beautiful woman who was slowly, cautiously starting to lower her guard.

  Jeff couldn't remember ever experiencing this level of uncertainty before. Part of him resented feeling this way. Obviously— it was the part that had always taken anything he ever wanted from the opposite sex. But the rest of him was enjoying the hell out of the challenge. The rush of uncertainty would definitely keep him fully engaged. There was no danger of complacency with Mari. There would be no games— not that he'd ever really been into that. But he also knew she wouldn't put up with them.

  He'd already sensed she wouldn't tolerate a slacker, but he was absolutely certain she wouldn't risk exposing Hector to getting his feelings hurt. He'd met up with Hector accidentally— but staying on the fringes of his life would be solely up to Marisol. That made this date— and any he might be fortunate enough to secure in the future— high stakes. The way he viewed it— he had two choices. He was either all in and betting with confidence or he should fold his hand and get out tonight.

  "Can we go to the park soon, Jeff? It's gonna get dark."

  "Hang in there, Sport. We have plenty of time." He smiled over Hector's worried expression. "Let's make sure your mom has finished dinner."

  "Mari, pleee-ze? Are you done?"

  She hid her chuckle behind her napkin. "When you ask so nicely, how can I possibly refuse?"

  "Okay, Hec. Lead the way." Jeff caught her glance and winked, hoping to provoke another blush. She'd done it all evening. For someone so tightly in command of her emotions, it was perhaps the one thing Marisol couldn't control. It probably drove her crazy— that a purely physical response could reveal all sorts of secrets she didn't wish to share. Did she blush like that around every guy? Or was her reaction reserved solely for him? Was it possible he made her nervous? The thought made him smile.

  He'd thought of no one else this past month. From the moment he'd set eyes on her— she'd been it. Until she trusted him enough to let the wall down, her blush was one of the few signals he had to gauge her thoughts. And before they were through, that wall was gonna tumble.

  Oh, yeah. He was all in.

  ***

  Marisol blew the wayward curls out of her face. Still flushed from the heat in the bathroom during Hector's bath, she was supremely conscious of the fact that she was completely disheveled. If her son hadn't insisted on Jefferson tucking him into bed, she wouldn't have cared so much about her appearance. But he was still here— waiting patiently to tuck him in. Then they would finally head downstairs together— alone for the first time. And she was a straggly mess.

  She chewed her lip in frustration. Why did it matter how she looked? She wasn't getting involved with anyone— remember? Just because Jeff was stunningly gorgeous— even after a sixty minute stint in the park chasing her son— even after another hour spent crawling on the living room rug playing trucks.

  "Mama— come on! I'm dry. Let's get out there."

  She finished buttoning his pajamas, her frazzled thoughts calming with the basic task. "Jeff is waiting, carino. He won't leave without saying goodnight."

  The moment she finished, Hector bolted for the door. She surveyed the damp towels near the tub before deciding the mess could be cleaned later. She'd stalled long enough. Avoiding the mirror, she turned off the fan and headed to her son's room.

  To her surprise, Hector was already under the covers when she entered his room. Jeff sat perched on the end of the bed, absorbed in talk of baseball.

  "Mari— Jeff likes baseball, too. He said his nephew plays tee-ball. And he's my age." Hector's eyes were wide. "Can I do that?"

  She glanced from one to the other. "If you’d like to try it, I’ll call the parks department to see if there's a program here."

  A flash of worry crossed Jeff's face. "Even if there isn't a program, Hec . . . you can still learn to play and then join a league next year."

  "But I want to play," he protested.

  "I promise to call for you," she repeated. "Now— isn't there something you'd like to say to Jeff?" His suddenly confused expression made her smile.

  "I wanna play tee-ball?"

  Jeff’s chuckle made her sigh. "To thank him for dinner," she prompted. "And for taking us to the park?"

  "Oh, yeah. Thanks, Jeff." He beamed at his new best friend. "I had fun playin' with you. I think you should come over again tomorrow."

  Jeff's expression was solemn. "I had a great time, too. And we definitely should do it again soon. I promise I'll talk with your mom before I leave."

  "Okay." His eyelids were already drooping when he yawned. "Goodnight, Jeff."

  "Sleep tight, buddy."

  She watched from the doorway when he rose from the bed and straightened the blanket around Hector's slender shoulders. She tried not to read too much into his actions— tried to stop the visions scrolling through her brain. Tucking in children, walks in the park . . . with the person who would
know you best in the world— who you could rely on, no matter what the situation-

  What was wrong with her? They'd had one date— a few hours together— a mere blip in the span of a lifetime. Just because Jeff had been amazing tonight didn't mean she could simply insert him into her fantasy of the perfect family. She couldn't afford to allow fantasies to rule her head. She'd made that mistake before. And where had it gotten her? Emotionally shattered— and in need of a restraining order.

  She drew in a shaky breath when Jeff turned and smiled. No doubt about it— he was beautiful. And thoughtful. He'd been kind and patient with her son. For those reasons, he scored extra points. Beyond that— she barely knew him. All men were capable of appearing interested for brief periods. It was the long haul that usually revealed their commitment problems.

  They didn't speak until they were downstairs. Despite her unease, Mari's pulse tripped with anticipation. She feigned normalcy as she headed for the kitchen— as though the presence of gorgeous, attentive men were a commonplace occurrence at her dining table. "Can I get you a beer?"

  "That sounds great. I don't suppose I could negotiate for another brownie?"

  Pausing in the hallway, she studied his hopeful expression before bursting into laughter, her tension dissolving.

  "What?" He shrugged. "They were really good."

  "My mother will be pleased to hear. I made them from her recipe." The realization that Jeff possessed a sweet tooth like Hector made her smile.

  "Do your parents live close by?"

  She shook her head. "Near Baltimore. We try to get everyone together at least once a month for family dinner."

  "Sounds like a big family. Brothers or sisters?" Jeff seemed to fill the doorway when he leaned against the frame and she took a tiny step backward into the kitchen.

  "I have two sisters and one brother. My older brother, Manuel and an older sister, Caridad." She ticked them off on her fingers. "Then I'm in the middle and finally, my baby sister, Serafina."

  "Pretty names," he acknowledged. "I'm one of three. Andrea is the oldest, then Jake, then me. And my cousin Harrison is like a brother to us. He basically grew up in our house."

  "Does everyone work for Specialty?"

  "Jake runs the show. Harrison manages accounting and I head up estimating."

  "And Andrea?"

  "She works in marketing, but only part-time. Her girls are teenagers now, but she always wanted to be there when they got off the bus." Jeff took a step into her kitchen and she took another step back. "Tell me about your parents. Where is Ortega from?"

  She smiled. "We are the definition of an American family. My father is Cuban, but born here— in Miami. He works for a defense contractor near D.C."

  "And your mom?"

  "My mother is Bridget. They met at Florida State. She has flaming red hair and blue eyes. We're all a weird blend of Cuban and Scottish."

  He grinned over her word choice. "What's weird about that?"

  "Well, I have a sister with strawberry blond hair, a brother who looks Hispanic like me— except for our eyes and a sister with red hair and dark eyes like Dad. You should see the family portrait."

  He took a step closer. "The way I see it— you get that beautiful, golden skin from your dad and your amazing eyes from your mom."

  "I . . . thank you. I-I guess so." Mari drew in a steadying breath, the compliment sending a jolt through her system. When it came to flirting, she was seriously out of practice. "Why— don't I get our drinks? We can sit in the living room. It's just down the hall." She ducked into the pantry, suddenly in serious need of regrouping.

  "Why don't I help?"

  To her dismay, Jeff followed her into the tiny space. Great— now she had a large, attractive man crowding the suddenly claustrophobic room. She adored her cottage and all of its charming nooks, but her pantry left much to be desired.

  Again, she wondered why she was so thrown off balance by a few compliments. Lord knew she'd heard it all before— from guys just like him. Only this wasn't just another guy. This was the man she'd been thinking about— for weeks. Against her will. His smile— and that dimple— had slipped into her subconscious and wormed their way into her brain.

  Scooping a few brownies onto a plate, Mari was supremely conscious of him watching her actions. Her pulse skittered with anticipation— or perhaps it was fear. This date had been a big step. One she'd been nervous to take. Out of habit, she licked the chocolate crumbs from her fingers.

  "You can take these into the living room. I'll be there in a moment." She spoke over her shoulder as she opened the refrigerator to retrieve a beer. She'd already decided on water for herself. Cold water. With lots of ice.

  When she extracted herself from the fridge, she discovered him standing right behind her. She was good and wedged— the counter at her back and Jefferson standing before her. "What are you doing?"

  His gaze locked with hers, Jeff carefully set the plate on the counter and took a step closer. "The way I figure it— we're both wondering what it will be like when I finally kiss you. I thought maybe . . . we should just get it out of the way now."

  Her breath caught in her throat. It was suddenly overly warm in her too small kitchen. "Actually, I-I'm not wondering at all," she lied. Her face heated with embarrassment.

  Jeff's eyes snapped with humor as he examined her face before slowly grinning. "I'm gonna call liar on that statement. Possibly even 'pants on fire'."

  "I do not lie." Except perhaps to herself. Because kissing him sounded like an amazing idea. A spectacular idea. He took a step closer and Mari's pulse ricocheted. "I don't think this is-" He reached out, gently tucking a strand of seriously out-of-control hair behind her ear. She gulped in a breath of air. "-a good idea."

  "Soft and beautiful." Jeff acted as though he hadn't heard her. His hand slid around to cradle her head, his fingers tugging through the weight of her curls before they paused to massage her nape. Mari had to bite back a groan over the sensual touch.

  "I've been imagining this for at least a month," he muttered.

  "Y-you have?" It took real effort not to lean into his hand. As she stood between his feet, his free hand traced lightly down her arm. His fingers trailed a shivery path along her skin. The sensation of those large, capable hands on her body was making it difficult to remember what she wanted to say.

  "This is your fault, you know," he said absently as his fingers left her hair to feather along her jaw.

  "What’s my fault?" Her heart was beating so loud Mari could barely hear him. She should have been panicking . . . yet she was honest enough to admit that all she could think about was how very much she wanted to kiss him.

  "You said it earlier— all boys like chocolate." Leaning in, his beautiful eyes were sober as they watched her— giving her every opportunity to stop him if she desired. "Let's see if I can taste it on you."

  "Jefferson, please-" she whispered against his lips before they brushed against hers. Marisol knew her plea was futile. She'd been fighting her attraction to him for weeks. His mouth was slow and deliberate— almost teasing her with his control. And she grew hypnotized by the sensation building within her. A blend of frustration and need and wanting.

  The very moment he deepened the kiss, a shudder tore through her. He felt so good— so incredible that she forgot all about her initial reservations. With a heady sense of wonder, Mari realized she had never experienced anything like this before. When his arms tightened around her, she forgot everything except the amazing man— kissing her as though his life depended on it.

  Jeff nudged her back against the counter, his mouth insistent. And when his tongue swept inside in search of hers, Mari met him eagerly. In the back of her brain, she heard him groan as she tasted him. When his lips left hers, she felt immediately bereft, until he trailed kisses down the side of her face. Shivering when his mouth found a sensitive spot on her throat, she cried out when his hand brushed against her breast through her suddenly constricting blouse.

&
nbsp; Jeff believed he might actually be in shock— for there was no rational explanation for the mind-blowing sensation of kissing Marisol. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. He was gentle at first, almost afraid he would scare her— afraid his passion would overwhelm her and then he'd never get the opportunity again. He'd known she would be amazing— if only because he'd fantasized about this moment for the past month. He'd memorized every nuance of her face and now he was finally touching the soft skin he'd dreamed of.

  When she'd challenged him, he'd been determined to seduce her slowly, to tease her and drive her as crazy as he'd begun to feel whenever he was near her. Her blush had told him everything her words denied. Though her beautiful eyes had flared with panic, they'd also revealed passion she wanted badly to hide.

  His experiment had worked perfectly— until the moment she began to respond. And whoa— did she respond. Trouble was— he hadn't counted on going a little crazy himself. His control was something of a matter of pride. Countless women before Mari had left him unscathed. While he'd always enjoyed himself, he'd never experienced a need that couldn't be quenched rather quickly.

  Until now. Awareness surged around them in a force field of sexual energy. He deepened the kiss, thrilled when Mari's arms crept up around his neck. She was actually trembling with need. Or hell— maybe that was him. Her soft whimper only pushed him closer to the precipice, imagining what it would be like when he finally made love to the beautiful woman in his arms. When she pressed herself against him, he nearly staggered over the sensation of her lush, perfect curves molded to him. Her warm, scented skin surrounded him, making him burn for more.

  He'd never wanted a woman the way he wanted Marisol Ortega. As though it were a hunger. As though she'd somehow taken over a part of him. Jeff wanted to hold her and touch her until she melted against him and then he wanted to do it all over again.

  When he found the sensitized skin of her throat, she shivered and clung to him- her hands everywhere. Jeff discovered he wanted her touch— needed it desperately. He knew he should stop, but hell if he wanted to. The soft throaty sound she made nearly sent him over the edge. He wanted to keep kissing her until-