She used to be confident and self-assured, but now she couldn’t trust her own judgment—couldn’t definitely say the sun was shining even when its bright rays lit up the sky. She was that unsure of herself ever since the fiasco with Dennis.
“Is something wrong?” Vicente asked.
Shanice had forgotten he was standing in front of her. His question and expression of frowning concern snapped her out of her morbid thoughts. “No, I’m fine. Got lost in thought for a minute. So, you don’t make your own spaghetti sauce?”
He chuckled. “I can cook, but I like the easy route. Of course, I buy the jarred version and end up cutting up basil, onions, and garlic to flavor it, so I should probably make it from scratch anyway.” He shrugged.
“I’m the same. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
A pause filled the space between them.
Vicente shifted from one foot to the next. “I…I’ll let you go back to your shopping. I need to pick up a few more things before I go home, but I had to come over and say hello.”
“I’m glad you did, and it was nice to see you.”
“Yes. Twice in one day, and you live nearby.”
“I do.” She nodded.
He watched her for a moment, and she remained still under his scrutiny. She barely noticed the other shoppers passing by, she was so taken with him and their conversation. Vicente seemed deep in thought, but then must have made a decision, because he heaved a breath. “I’ll see you around. Well, definitely at the bookstore.”
“Yes, definitely.” Shanice pushed down the hot surge of disappointment.
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
She watched him walk away with a throb of pain in her heart. The ache to say something, to call out to him, never manifested into any action. With regret, she turned back to the meat, scouring the options for chicken this time.
“Shanice?” Surprised, she swung around at the sound of her name again. This time, Vicente seemed more hesitant. She could see it in his eyes. What did this hunk of man have to be hesitant about?
“Yes?” she asked, anticipation making her voice breathless.
He laughed softly, nervously, his gaze sweeping up and down the aisle, as if searching for the confidence he needed to say what was on the tip of his tongue.
She held her breath. Waiting.
His gaze met hers again. “Are you seeing anyone? Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.” Her fingers tightened on the basket handle. Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod.
“Would you, er…would you be interested in going out with me? Maybe dinner?”
“Sure. I’m free next Saturday.”
“I was thinking sooner. Tomorrow night?”
She didn’t have to work Sunday night, but hesitated. What did she really know about this man? Nothing, really, and she was about to spend time with him. But how else would she get to know him if she didn’t spend time with him?
“You know what, I’m being too pushy. I’m sorry, I—”
“No, I’d love to go out with you,” Shanice hastily said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. And I don’t have a boyfriend, since I plan to spend the night cuddling with my salad and a good book.”
A smile stretched across his face. “I have similar plans. Well then, dinner…tomorrow night, right?”
“Yes,” Shanice said with a laugh. She couldn’t believe how hesitant he was. Some woman or women had really done a number on his self-confidence.
“We should exchange numbers.”
“Oh, yes!”
They handed each other their phones and plugged in their names and numbers, then handed them back.
Vicente grinned. “Well, I’m glad I stopped by the store tonight. I almost decided to pick up a meal at a restaurant, but now I’m glad I didn’t. I would have missed running into you.”
“I’m glad you didn’t do that, too.”
“I need time to think of a good place to eat, so I’ll give you a call tomorrow afternoon, if that works?”
“That works.”
“Perfect. I’m looking forward to our date.”
“Me, too,” Shanice admitted softly.
This time when he walked away, she didn’t take her eyes off him until he’d disappeared down an aisle.
Bouncing on her feet, Shanice practically skipped to the checkout. She wouldn’t get too involved with him. That would be foolish, especially if she had to leave town. But she could have fun, right? Of course she could.
She couldn’t stop smiling.
Seated in a gray Nissan outside in the parking lot, Cruz watched as Shanice exited the store with swaying hips and a bounce in her step. She climbed into her blue Taurus and took off, and he took off behind her.
She clearly had no idea that he’d been following her for the past week, and even if she thought she was being followed, she would dismiss it.
The average person had very little situational awareness, and people often dismissed any uneasy feelings that suggested something was wrong in their immediate vicinity—completely overriding their instincts, nature’s way of keeping them alive. That made surveillance easy when dealing with civilians.
He knew every route that took him to and away from the house where she lived on a dead-end street. He’d followed her to and from work, as well as out to dinner one night with her co-worker, Ava.
Knowing that she was so unaware of her surroundings concerned him. Other forces wanted that data, and if they hadn’t found her yet, he worried that they’d find her eventually.
Cruz frowned. What was he doing being worried about her? For all he knew, she was an accomplice with Dennis or in cahoots with the people who’d killed him. He needed to think with his head and not his dick—which wasn’t easy with a woman who looked like her.
He pulled onto her street, the number of cars parked around her house posing a minor irritation, but since the house across the street was always busy, it made blending in easier.
He drove past her house as Shanice pulled into the garage, completely unaware of his presence. Furthermore, she didn’t seem to suspect that he was anything more than an accountant, which meant his cover was working.
Because of his size and build, he’d found ways to come across less intimidating. Glasses, a loose-fitting shirt, and a shuffle to his walk instead of a confident stride were all important pieces of the Vicente cover. He’d even pitched his voice a little higher and used well-placed hesitation when he spoke instead of his usual low-timbered, confident voice.
What wasn’t fake was his interest in Shanice. She exuded warmth and sex appeal without trying. Her full breasts were more than a handful, and her ass was spectacular, especially in the form-fitting dress she wore tonight. He’d watched her from behind for a long time before he finally called her name.
She also had a sweet voice, and every time she spoke he felt compelled to pay attention. And her laughter…well, that was a bonus, as welcome as the sun’s rays pushing between storm clouds.
Mierda, he needed to stop browsing the poetry section. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be writing his own lines soon.
Cruz did a U-turn at the end of the street and then drove back toward her house. Nothing seemed out of place.
He left the subdivision and headed back to his apartment.
6
Shanice exited the cab and climbed the steps to La Cocina Patagonia in the Patagonia Hotel. The popular restaurant was located on a quiet end of South Beach and served South American food. Thanks to an Argentine owner, they had a reputation for great steaks, and the owner’s wife, a sommelier, had curated a wine list that offered excellent choices from vineyards all over the world.
The quiet hum of conversation and the sound of silverware touching plates greeted Shanice as she approached the entrance to the restaurant. She saw Vicente right away, towering over the maître d’, an older Hispanic man wearing a dark suit and gold tie.
Vicente looked absolut
ely delicious in a black jacket and black and white striped tie, and when he turned toward her, her breath hitched, and she broke into a smile. He smiled back, softening his features and making her heart jumpstart like a horse breaking free at the starting gate.
“You look nice,” she said.
His gaze roved over her in a slow, measured way that heated her skin. “And you look…incredible.” One corner of his mouth tipped upward into a crooked smile.
His compliment pleased her since she’d spent a lot of time on her appearance. She wore a leopard print top and black slacks, and she’d washed and deep-conditioned her curly hair, making sure every single strand looked perfect. Not a single bit of frizz in sight.
Without warning, Vicente slipped a hand around her waist and leaned close to her ear. “In Spanish, I would say, t’eres un mango. That means you’re hot.”
Shanice blushed. He smelled so good—like leather and citrus. She really, really wanted to get this guy naked and get that scent all over her skin. She hadn’t had sex in months, making it hard to be good right now.
Shanice tipped back her head to look up at him. “You’ll have to teach me more Spanish words.”
“I intend to. I’m glad you came, Shanice. I wasn’t sure you would. When you said you wanted to meet me here instead of letting me pick you up, I assumed that was your sneaky way of getting out of the date.”
“Once you get to know me, you’ll learn that I only say what I mean. If I didn’t want to come on this date, I would have told you.”
His eyes sparkled with interest. “Good to know.”
They followed a hostess through the middle of the restaurant to a table that looked out onto the back street where cars cruised by and the neon lights of a local hotel painted each vehicle with red and green as they passed. After they were settled, a waiter came over. Dark-skinned, with a Spanish accent similar to Vicente’s, he introduced himself as Marco and took their drink orders. After he left them alone, Shanice stole a peek at her date, whose head was bent over the menu. His wavy black hair looked luxurious under the recessed lights.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sat down with a man on an actual date over dinner and wine. The last time she’d been out with a man was with Dennis, and he’d taken her to an off-the-beaten-path restaurant because he was worried about his wife seeing them together while they were in the middle of a divorce. Being out in the open and dressed up was a nice change.
“Any suggestions?” she asked, dropping her gaze to the menu.
The dishes ranged from Peruvian ceviche to grilled Argentine meats, and included interesting choices for dessert. Everything sounded delicious, and she had a hard time deciding what to order.
“I have no idea,” Vicente admitted.
“Is this your first time here?”
He finally looked up. “Yes. We’ll be discovering this place together.”
“You made a risky decision bringing me here,” she said.
“How so?”
“Aren’t you trying to impress me?” She batted her eyelashes at him.
He chuckled. “I thought you were trying to impress me,” he teased.
“I am. I guess the desire to impress goes both ways.”
“I think you’re right.” His gaze flicked to the menu again and then he set it aside. “I have an idea. Why don’t we forget about the menu and have the waiter decide what we’ll eat and drink tonight.”
“Oooh, that’s really living on the edge. I don’t know.”
“Are you in?”
Without hesitation, Shanice folded her menu. “I’m in.”
Cruz took it, and when Marco returned, he handed both to him. “We’re being daredevils tonight. We want you to order for us. What do your customers usually enjoy? Whatever that is, we want it.”
The waiter grinned. “You’re sure about this?”
“I’m sure. We want the works—appetizers, entree, a nice bottle of wine, and if we have room at the end of the meal, dessert.” He looked directly at her. “This is our first date, and I’m trying to impress her.”
“Your first date?” The man’s grin widened as he looked at Shanice, and then he said something to Cruz in Spanish. Cruz replied, they both laughed, and the waiter left the table.
“What was that about?” Shanice asked, spreading her napkin across her lap.
“I shouldn’t tell you.”
“You have to tell me. It would be really rude if you didn’t.”
“You’re right. He said that you’re a very beautiful woman and I’m a very lucky man.”
“Did he really say that?” Shanice asked, her cheeks heating with color.
“Yes, he did.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said, ‘I know. So make sure you make me look good tonight.’” His eyes sparkled with humor.
“I’m…flattered,” Shanice said. She ran a fingertip up and down the stem of her water glass.
Vicente stopped her movements by taking her hand.
“Tell me about you, Shanice. I want to know everything.”
“How far back do you want me to go?”
“Don’t go as far back as the womb and we should be fine.”
She laughed. “You surprise me. You have a sense of humor, which wasn’t obvious initially.”
“I try.” He smiled.
Man, those lips.
“There’s not much to tell. I don’t have a lot of family, except my mother, as I mentioned. My father, who passed away a few years ago, was a cognitive psychologist, or what some people simply call a brain scientist. He was a brilliant man, always reading and studying, constantly curious about how the brain works and how we remember things and learn. His second love was chemistry, and that occupied much of his time, too. He loved tinkering in his lab at home.”
“He had a lab at home? That sounds dangerous.”
She enjoyed his touch as he idly played with her fingers. His thick fingers were rougher than she expected for an accountant, as if he worked a lot with his hands. She didn’t mind the roughness, though. It added another intriguing dimension to the man and made her want to learn more about him.
“Oh, it was, and it drove my mother crazy. Initially the lab was a room at the back of the house, but after a small fire that resulted in charred walls and a panicked call to the fire department before we were able to put it out, she banished him to outside. He ended up building a shed in the back yard, and I used to spend a lot of time out there with him as his assistant. I learned so much, not only about science but about life. We talked about everything.” Her heart ached, and she wondered if she’d ever fully recover from no longer having him in her life.
Vicente gently squeezed her hand and brought her attention back to him. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” She heaved a sigh. “Anyway, my parents had that kind of crazy love, where no one else matters in the world but that person. They met in college, fell in love, got married, and lived happily until cancer stole my dad from us. But while we had him, he blessed our lives in all kinds of ways, and I really miss him.”
The waiter arrived with a bottle of red wine. After they tasted it, he poured them each a glass and promised to return with their appetizers before too long.
Vicente took another sip of wine before setting his glass on the table. “When you talk about your parents’ relationship, you sound wistful.”
“Do I?” Shanice laughed. “Being with someone you really connect with can be absolutely amazing, when it’s right. I saw that with them.”
Folding his arms on the table, he asked, “Why are you still single?”
Shanice wrinkled her nose. “Yuck. Why do men ask that awful question?”
“I’m sorry. Do we?”
“So many times.”
“Maybe because we can’t believe it when we find an incredible woman like you who’s single, and we genuinely want to know. I know I do.”
She felt a little guilty. The truth was, she di
dn’t want to talk about why she wasn’t in a relationship, but sitting in the quiet ambiance of La Cocina Patagonia, with a glass of red wine and a handsome man who looked as if he genuinely cared about her answer, her resolve softened.
“I haven’t been in a relationship in a while. My last one ended abruptly, and I’ve been single ever since.”
“I see,” he said slowly. “Are you still heartbroken over him?”
She shook her head vehemently. “Hate I’d wasted my time, to be honest.”
Brown eyes met umber eyes across the table.
“Relationships aren’t easy.”
“No, they’re not,” Shanice agreed.
Marco reappeared with a waitress trailing behind him and holding a tray on her shoulder.
“Your appetizers are here,” he said.
The young woman lowered the tray and Marco removed a white dish and set it carefully in the center of the table. “These are two of our meat empanadas, which are legendary on the strip. You will not find a better empanada anywhere. And this is our ceviche.” He placed oversized martini glasses filled with fish and shrimp in front of each of them. “I’m sure you’ll be very satisfied with your choices. Can I get you anything else?”
“Nothing for me.” Shanice looked across the table at Vicente.
He shook his head, and Marco and the waitress left.
“I’m going to be full off the appetizers alone,” Shanice remarked. She bit into one of the empanadas and crossed her eyes at the delicious flavor. “Mmm, he’s right, this is so good.”
“So he didn’t steer us wrong so far, eh?” Vicente bit into his.
“No, he did good.”
“I guess I’m on my way to impressing you,” he said.
Shanice’s lips broke into a smile. “I guess you are.”
7
Cruz checked his watch as he waited for Shanice to return from the restroom.
Dinner had been exceptional. He had wolfed down his steak and lobster, and Shanice had danced in her seat as she devoured a meal of grilled steak topped with jumbo shrimp served with a side of vegetables.
Until Now (Plan B Book 1) Page 4