Too bad he had to be an asshole.
Mia made it back to her house, drinking some cool water before venturing to the backyard to move through her yoga poses. This time she didn’t have an audience.
After she showered, she got dressed in a simple pair of dark purple leggings that came to her calf and a black muscle shirt. She checked her watch. She had a few minutes to call Carmen before she headed towards the studio to meet the construction crew.
She pressed her friend’s contact information and the call buzzed through.
“Mia! Amiga, cómo estás?”
Mia smiled. “Bien! Y tú?”
“Niná, I miss you so much. I know you said you needed a change, but why did it have to be on the other side of the country?” Carmen asked.
Mia sighed. “I just wanted a fresh start. Too many memories back there.”
“Running from your problemas won’t make them disappear, cariño,” Carmen warned.
“I know. But it’s been mostly good things over here so far,” Mia said.
“Yeah? Have you made some friends? How’s the studio coming?” Carmen asked.
Mia smiled. “I did happen to make a couple new acquaintances. One woman owns a café here in town and the other a bed-and-breakfast.”
“Oh, good. So we have somewhere to stay when Mamá, Papi, Mateo, and I come to visit.”
“Yes. And I am heading out as soon as I get off the phone with you to meet the guys at the studio to begin renovations,” Mia added.
“I’m so excited for you. Mateo has been asking how you are doing,” Carmen said.
“I’ll call him sometime soon. Give your parents and brother a hug for me.”
“I will. Te amo, chica,” Carmen said, before making a kiss sound.
“I love you too.”
Thirty minutes later, Mia pulled into the parking lot of her new yoga studio. She stacked the boxes of donuts and placed the several cups of coffee on top, balancing the paper bag full of sugar and creamer as well. She walked towards the door as someone came from behind her to hold the door open.
“Good morning, Mia.”
“Buenos días.” She smiled back, entering where her future lobby would be. Mikel took the cups of coffee and the paper bag from the top of her pile and placed them on the card table set up in the corner with a few stacks of papers and tools.
“You brought sustenance?” Mikel asked.
“Yes. I figured your team would need it for the long day ahead.”
A few men wandered in and out with tape measures and various tools. Nerves somersaulted in her belly. This was it—the first step in making her dreams come true and fulfilling her promise to her mother.
“Dre!” Mikel called.
Oh no. It couldn’t be . . . could it?
Andre’s dark eyes met hers only momentarily as he entered the room. He had a tool belt clipped around his waist and tan Carhartt pants that led to his worn work boots. She swallowed, trying not to think that how he looked in a hard hat was a fantasy come to life.
Mikel came to her rescue, focusing her thoughts back to the job at hand. “So, let’s do one more walk-through to make sure we’re all on the same page before we begin construction. Sound good?”
Mia nodded.
As they went room by room, Mia paid careful attention to the detail that Mikel went into. She’d hired the right crew, even if that meant putting up with her ornery neighbor for the time being.
“I thought we were going to move this wall?” she asked.
Andre shook his head, and then spoke for the first time. “Can’t. It’s a load-bearing wall.”
“But I need this space opened up to have it feel airy,” she argued.
“No can do.” Andre smirked.
Anger lit her skin on fire at the same time as his smile brought heat to another part of her traitorous body.
“I think we’ve come up with a solution you might be happy with. Andre suggested we turn this wall over here,” Mikel said, pointing, “into a giant window. That would make this space feel more open while not causing structural issues.”
“Andre had this idea, huh?” she asked as she studied the broody six-foot man.
“Couldn’t let a project be done half-baked since it has my name on it,” Andre said as if insinuating somehow the shortcoming would be her fault.
This man liked to stir up trouble where there was none. He got under her skin like no one ever had.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from someone I hired,” she said, letting him know exactly who was in charge here.
Mikel stepped in front of his business partner and guided her along. She caught the death glare he gave Andre as they passed.
“Now, let’s talk about this flooring. It’s really nice hardwood. It almost feels sacrilegious to pull it up. Are you sure you want to do that?” Mikel asked. “It would save you a few thousand to leave it be.”
His phone rang, interrupting her response.
“Sorry. It’s my wife. I should take this. She doesn’t call unless it’s important,” Mikel explained.
“Go ahead.” She nodded.
“Why are we ripping up hardwood floors? They’re timeless, durable, and eco-friendly. We can sand and stain them a different color if that’s the reason,” Andre said, stepping closer into her space. You’d have thought he’d have learned his lesson last time.
“You really don’t think I know anything, do you? I’m having a shipment of selenite crystals delivered to the studio. I want the bags of crushed stones to be distributed underneath. Then you can relay the flooring.” She wouldn’t tell him that it was because it was her only connection to her mother. That she wanted a piece of Mamá to always be in the foundation of making her dream come true.
His mouth hung open as he stared at her speechless. “Rocks? You want to throw away thousands of dollars and a ton of man hours to rip up a floor and put rocks in it?” He burst out laughing. The harder he laughed, the angrier she got.
He had no idea what this place meant to her. What it was like to have nothing left of your parents, to live through the tragedy she had. She clenched her fists. “El Cabrón!”
“You’re crazy, woman!” He held his stomach as another fit of laughter overtook him.
“That is something people say when they don’t understand something. When it’s too big for them to wrap their little minds around. You work for me. I didn’t hire you to see my vision. I hired you to bring it to life.”
He stood taller, finally getting a hold of himself before he shrugged. “Your money to waste.” Her victory was short-lived as his eyes narrowed in on her. “Unless it’s Mommy and Daddy’s dollar and you’re just some rich spoiled princess with no idea what she’s doing.”
It was the furthest thing from the truth.
The blood drained from her face as she blinked. The heavy weight settling on her chest made it hard to breathe. No, not here. Not in front of him. She searched around them for her quickest escape route. She would not have a panic attack in here. She turned away as the tears stung her eyes. She swallowed the lump of emotion that roiled within her. She counted, trying to slow her inhales, as his strong hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her back to face him.
“Running away from the tru—” Andre stopped. His anger morphed into a flash of something softer before letting her go.
She spun back to the exit and forced her legs not to run out of the room, hoping to hold on to a shred of dignity. Mia left embarrassed, determined to never let herself be so vulnerable with that man again.
4
Andre
Friday morning came around more slowly than Andre had ever thought possible. After his argument with Mia, he’d felt like an ass. He’d recognized the panicked expression in her eyes—it was the same one his friend Bently would get whenever his past threatened to catch up with him.
The rest of the week Andre kept to himself, working alongside his team to put up Sheetrock and open the wall they’d agreed to add several g
lass plates to, converting it into a giant window. He’d plugged in earbuds and focused on the tasks at hand, ignoring her curvy ass in skintight yoga pants or shorts, depending on the day. He’d always been one to admire a nice booty, but Mia’s was downright perfection. His team had seemed to notice as well. He’d barked at more than one of his guys to stay professional on the job.
On Tuesday, Mia had eaten lunch with the crew. They’d all sat on whatever they could find, but when Mia came over, they all jumped to their feet to offer her their makeshift chairs. Wednesday, he’d had to snap at them more than once to get back to work rather than chat it up with her. By Thursday, he’d about given up. If he heard her laugh at something Stan or Tom said one more time, or ask about their kids by name, he’d fucking lose it.
He went to bed hard as a rock every single night. He hated her for what she did to him. He hated her warm smile, and her throaty laughter, and the way she rolled her R’s, and how cute her accent was. It was like the woman was designed for the single purpose of making him crave her. Mia was the ultimate test of his self-control. She was feisty, and not afraid of confrontation—his sore groin was proof of that. And lately, he’d seen a softer side to her in the way she interacted with people.
He slammed the car door and walked back to the work site after his trip to the bank. Thank goodness she hadn’t been in today. He wasn’t sure how much more of her he could take. He walked past the team, glancing at the wrapped sub in one of his worker’s hands. “Treating yourself, Stan?”
Stan looked up and smiled. “Mia brought it in for me. She got pizza for Tom. And even bought us some cookies from the café to bring home to our families.” Stan’s blue eyes sparkled as he nodded towards the back room.
She was here? Damn it. So much for a reprieve. And how did she know their favorites? She’d won over his crew with bribery—little witch—cast them all under her spell. She even had Mikel on her side.
Andre nodded and walked towards the hall where Mikel was studying an invoice.
“Remind me again why we can’t get out of this contract,” Andre groaned.
Mikel gave him an incredulous look. “You know why. It’s bad for business to back out, especially after we already started the work. This is a huge job that helps us achieve our goals for the year. Not to mention, my wife would kill me if we didn’t complete it.”
“Why is Remy suddenly so invested in this?” Andre asked, bewildered.
Mikel shook his head. “Your sister likes Mia. They’re becoming friends, and she thinks Mia will be good for you.”
“What? Why?” Andre grimaced.
“You really don’t see? Man, Tiff did a number on you.”
Andre’s muscles tensed with anger at the mention of his ex. “Why does everyone keep bringing her up? I’m over her.”
Mikel gave him a knowing look. “You keep telling yourself that. I know firsthand how that anger festers inside you. You think it’s safer to keep everyone out, but what you’re really doing is punishing yourself. Tiffany’s off living her life and you’re here alone and angry. Tell me again how much you’re over her.”
Andre clenched his fists. His friend spoke the truth, but it didn’t mean he was ready to hear it. “I’m not lonely. I have a business and my friends and family. That’s all I need.”
“Whatever you say,” Mikel said, holding up both hands as if to calm a wild beast.
The scent of something herbal caught his attention. Andre sniffed. What is that . . .? Is it . . .
“Who the hell is smoking weed?” Andre darted out of the room, following the scent to where it grew stronger. All his men seemed to be accounted for, working. That only left one possibility. He opened the door to what would be the office, and sure enough, Mia stood there with a lighter in one hand and a long bundle of green in another. “What the fuck are you doing? Smoking weed while we’re trying to work?”
Mia whipped around. “Dios mío!” She clutched her chest, her surprise quickly morphing into fury. “Does this look like marijuana to you?” She held out the bundle of dried herbs, still billowing smoke from one end.
“Well, what the hell is it?” he barked.
“It’s sage. I’m using sage to clear this space of negative energy. If I’d have known you’d be here, I would have brought more—maybe just built a bonfire under you and lit the whole place on fire.”
His mind was reeling. The way she furrowed her brow and argued with him was like foreplay. Being around her was like being in a constant state of torture. She was drugging him—that was it. This little witch was using magic on him. “Your voodoo won’t work on me.” He smirked.
She rolled her eyes. God damnit, even her disrespect was cute.
“You think I don’t see what you’re doing here?” he growled.
She placed the burning sage into an empty cup on the desk and the lighter in her pocket before crossing her arms, drawing his attention to her perfect breasts.
She replied, her voice sounding innocent, “Why don’t you enlighten me—seeing how you think you are so much smarter than me. Oh, high and mighty one, please tell this . . . rich princess, was it? Tell me what my secret evil plans are.”
His cock stirred as she stood taller, challenging him. He stepped closer. The triangle in her forehead deepened.
“You have every man in this place wrapped around your finger. Somehow, you even have my sister and best friend on your side. But I know something they don’t, little witch.”
She moved further into his person space, her spicy rose scent mixing with the sage. She was intoxicating. He swayed on his feet as she spoke. “And what is that?” Her voice was breathy, waking parts of him that he didn’t want to feel.
“You’re a liar. A fake.”
She blinked, an emotion he couldn’t name flashing in her eyes before she narrowed her gaze on him. A sly smile crept across her features as she looked him up and down. She leaned in, her mouth only a breath away from his. His entire body was burning in an inferno with her closeness. Andre’s self-control threatened to snap.
She whispered, “Andre Stone, I see you. You have the eyes of a man who once felt passion in his life. But that fire has gone out now. Someone hurt you, deeply. You built walls around your heart, and your brain sends shit like that out of your mouth as a defense mechanism.”
His brow furrowed and he shook his head. “A defense against what?”
“I think what you see as a lie is my ability to believe in something greater than myself. Something you’ve lost.”
His ears were ringing, blood flowing fast. She was right—to deny it would make him the liar.
“Your friends seem to think you’re a good guy, and yet you’re a jerk to me.” She looked him in the eye and continued, “It makes me wonder if it’s me, or if every woman is your target simply because of our sex.”
Oh, God. That three-letter word falling from her full lips made a scorching fireball of lust combust inside him. What was she saying? All he could focus on were those lips he wanted to bite—her seductive voice he wanted to hear scream his name. Even the way she argued was erotic.
He reached out and grabbed her shoulders, anger rising, mixed with lust. She gasped, and the zing of his skin against hers sent electricity radiating through him. What the hell? He was drawn to her with a magnanimity that he’d never felt before, and that was enough of a warning. She brought out a side to him that had never seen the light of day. This Andre was animalistic in the way he craved her. “I don’t hate women. Just you.”
She smiled and it was like gasoline on the fire raging inside him. He gripped her more firmly. He wasn’t hurting her, only holding her securely away from him. He needed to get his body under control. She had the upper hand and she knew it.
“Is that why you can’t keep your hands off me?” She searched his eyes, a small smile playing on the corner of her mouth.
God, he wanted to taste her lips.
“Let me go,” she said, her voice breathy.
He droppe
d his hands to his sides instantly. What was he doing? He ran a palm over his head. This woman made him react in ways he’d never experienced before. He wasn’t sure which way was up or down anymore. She knocked him for a loop, and he was spinning uncontrollably, drifting aimlessly in space.
Mia gave him one last look of appraisal before she left the room. Andre tried calming the swell of emotion that rose in his chest: lust and fury. Who would have known it would be so addictive? He needed a few strong drinks and a quick fuck to get his body back in control. He pulled out his phone and texted Bently.
Andre: Shipwreck later? I need a wingman.
Bently: Has hell frozen over?
Andre: Don’t flatter yourself.
Bently: See ya at six.
5
Andre
Andre settled onto a barstool at The Shipwreck.
Charli greeted him. “Hey, handsome. What can I get ya?”
“Jack and Coke, please.”
“Coming right up.”
As she poured the whiskey into the glass, he asked, “How’s that man of yours?”
She was beaming. “He’s hanging in there. Only a handful of months on his deployment left.”
“That’s awesome. Pass on my gratitude,” Andre said as she handed him his drink.
“Will do. Should I start a tab?”
“Yeah, that’s probably best,” Andre answered. He had no intention of stopping at one. He needed to let loose and relax.
“Put a beer on his tab for me too. One of those new Long Trails you got in last week,” Bently said, slapping Andre’s back.
“Buy your own beer, Sheriff,” Andre teased.
“Oh, come on. You invited me. That’s no way to treat a guest who’s doing you a favor,” Bently argued.
Vote Then Read: Volume I Page 4