Yolanda took his hand and then leaned up to give me a kiss and pat me on the cheek. “It was good having you here, Rocco.” She wagged a finger at me and then gestured toward the kitchen counter, where there were a few containers packed with leftovers. “Don’t forget those, and come back on Saturday. Julita is taking us on the Kennedy tour.”
“Sounds great. Thank you for today. I had a great time,” I said, unsure what to do next.
I watched Julia walk off toward her bedroom without saying a word, but I didn’t know if I should press the issue of the sleepover. Was she really going to come to my place?
After a few minutes, she emerged wearing gray leggings and a black sweatshirt with the word “Chula” in bright red at the center. It was hard not to stare at her. She looked alert, the sleepiness from before replaced with something new. Her eyes were bright and awake when she walked up to me with a small overnight bag slung over her shoulder.
“I’m ready.”
It took me a moment to react, but the Ortiz sisters waited for no man.
“About time, let’s go people,” Paula complained from the door and Julia gave me a small smile as we walked out of her apartment into the cool Dallas evening. This was probably the most ill-advised thing I’d done to date. But I could not muster up the energy to regret it, not a bit.
Chapter Twenty-One
Julia
“I’m taking the guest room with the TV.” I ignored Paula’s excited voice echoing from one of Rocco’s extra bedrooms. The man had cable and superfast internet, so we would probably not see her until she got hungry in the morning.
I was standing by the doorway of the other bedroom, which was directly across from Rocco’s, while I listened to him moving around in the kitchen. He’d shown me to the bedroom after letting me know he’d be putting away the leftovers he’d brought over from my house. He’d walked over all the way back from my apartment with Pulga’s carrier slung over his shoulder and the reusable bag full of containers in front of him like it was very precious cargo.
There was nothing precious about what I wanted to do with Rocco Quinn though. No. This day had been nothing but a series of emotional ambushes aimed at decimating my reasons to stay away from him, and I was in a mood to take every ill-advised road my body wanted to go down on this day of thanks.
And even with all the not-so-friendly feelings happening in my pj’s, I was still hung up on the absurdly adorable display I’d witnessed firsthand during operation “Save Pulga.” He’d had perfect strangers sighing after him as he walked out of the vet’s office giving Pulga a pep talk as she popped her little head out of the carrier.
Women had shot me appreciative looks, jealous looks.
And for a moment, I wished I could claim him. I wished I could’ve taken his hand, possessively. Kissed him and told him how wonderful he’d been with that poor defenseless animal. And that was before he charmed my entire family at dinner, and managed to get my grandmother to let him clean the kitchen for her. Something she’d never done for anyone, not even for my dad.
I sighed and walked out into the living room, where the man in question was currently trying to coax Pulga from under the couch—where she’d been since we arrived—with a small bowl full of fancy cat food. I stood there observing him and let myself take in the picture he made. Still in his jeans and sweater from dinner, he was crouched by the couch, his voice soothing and gentle.
“Come on, Pulga. You must be hungry, sweetheart.” With a finger, he pushed the bowl as close to the couch as it would go. “You need to eat. We can’t have Julia thinking I can’t take care of my girl.”
I almost gave myself away, because this was too much. He was too much. Everything I learned about Rocco made me want him more, made me ache to get closer.
Once I had Rocco, really had him, I wouldn’t be able to stay away, and soon after that I’d be back to where I always ended up, bending, altering my plans for the sake of a man. I was playing an extremely dangerous game, but I was not bowing out yet.