sauciness as I get into the car, perching my coffee carefully in the cupholder because God forbid I should spill it. Juanita’s cortadito is liquid-gold deliciousness.
I’m getting ready to pull out of my parking space when Priscilla roars into the lot and comes to a stop next to my car. I’m frozen in place, unable to move or think or breathe or do anything other than drink in the sight of Jason’s gorgeous face. I’d have to be blind to miss the yearning in the lovely eyes that always look at me with affection and desire. Now is no different. He conveys so much with just a look.
He gets out of his car, comes over to mine, and knocks on the passenger window. I eye the unlock button warily. It took every ounce of fortitude I could summon last night to take a step back from him. If I let him into my car, I’ll be right back to square one.
I glance at the passenger window. He’s bent at the waist, staring at me imploringly through the glass. Every part of me wants every part of him. Even as I curse my own lack of willpower, I unlock the door.
He gets in, closes the door and turns to face me.
I crank the AC so we won’t roast to death.
A quick glance tells me he’s tired—as tired as I am. He didn’t shave, and his hair looks like he “brushed” it with an impatient sweep of his fingers.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Sure. Never better.” I take a sip of my coffee so I’ll have something to do with my hands besides reach for him and beg him to stay with me forever.
“You willing to share your fix?” Offering a small smile, he tips his chin toward the cup.
I hand it over to him and try not to react to the moan that’s become far too familiar to me for reasons that have nothing to do with cortadito.
He gives the cup back to me. “Ginger was at my hotel last night.”
I gasp, nearly spill the coffee all over myself and realize my efforts to remain detached from him are for naught. I can no more remain detached from him than I can suddenly decide to quit breathing. “What did she want?”
“Who knows? I told her to get lost.”
“How’d she find you?”
“That’s a very good question, but I didn’t care enough to ask. I just wanted her gone.”
“Wow, she came down here to find you. That’s pretty crazy.” Suddenly, I’m chilled to the bone and not just because of the AC, which I turn down to low.
“She’s nothing to me, Carmen. Surely you have to believe me when I tell you that.”
I tell myself it doesn’t matter. He’s leaving. I’m not. I know he doesn’t feel anything for her, so I want to not care that she came here looking for him. Except I do care. I care more than I’ve cared about anything in years, despite my futile effort to step back from him and this crazy situation. With him sitting next to me, his familiar scent filling my senses and reminding me of so many intimate moments with him, remaining removed is all but impossible. “I do. I believe you.”
“I miss you.”
“You saw me yesterday.”
“I missed sleeping with you last night. I slept like shit.”
“I did, too.”
“I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but will you please give me a couple of days to figure out my life before you write me off forever?”
“I haven’t written you off forever. I’m just trying to avoid, you know . . .”
“Heartbreak?”
“Yeah,” I reply, sighing. “I’ve had enough of that for one lifetime.”
“The very last thing I want to do is cause you more. I hope you believe that as well.”
“I do.”
“The offer from New York was unexpected. It’s thrown a wrench into things, and I’m trying to figure out how to proceed. You’re very much a factor in my decision-making process.”
“Which I absolutely should not be. Nine days, Jason. You’ve known me for nine days.”
As if he can’t resist the need to touch me for another second, he takes my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing my palm and the inside of my wrist, where he has to feel the thundering beat of my heart in the throbbing pulse point. “The best nine days of my whole life, Carmen. Hands down.”
“Really?” My voice sounds high and squeaky.
“Really. I need you to have some faith in me, and in us.