Her Perfect Affair

by Priscilla Oliveras

  The music, the revolving welcome door for family and friends, the food and sense of community and belonging . . . this environment was far different from his. He’d grown up in a mix of fancy dinners with Sherman’s law firm partners and clients, nights at the orchestra or ballet, and formal charity galas that were more about appearances and networking than relationships and bonding.

  Here, life was more laid-back. Comfortably appealing.

  In large part due to the enchanting woman beside him.

  “I’m guessing Rosa will thank me for my inventive shopping skills when those olives come in handy at the library,” he teased back.

  Dolores muttered under her breath as she looked toward the heavens, but he caught her smirk before she spun away to wash the few remaining dishes.

  Rosa snickered, rubbing at her chin with the back of her hand to wipe the juice.

  Jeremy slid a napkin across the table closer to her.

  “Finished?” he asked. At her nod, he placed the plastic lid on the papaya container.

  He pushed his chair away from the table, moving to put the fruit in the refrigerator. The action was less about helping tidy the kitchen and more about stepping away from temptation. The cool air when he tugged open the door provided a welcome balm to his heated face.

  When he turned back around, he caught Rosa covering a wide yawn with both hands.

  “Ay, excuse me,” she mumbled.

  He checked his watch. Just after eight. Not too late, but she’d had a full day, with little of the rest Dr. Jiménez had ordered. “It’s a school night, señorita. We should be getting you to bed.”

  He winced. Damn if the words didn’t sound more lecherous than he intended.

  If Dolores noticed, she cut him some slack and kept it to herself. “Walk me to the door, Jeremy. Rosita, abrazos.”

  Rosa stood to give her madrina the requested hug. “Gracias, Tía. I appreciate you coming over.”

  “Nonsense. Where else would I be?” Dolores cupped Rosa’s face in her hands. “And I can stay behind if that makes you feel better. Not only because I promised your parents, but because I would do anything for you and your sisters.”

  Dolores pressed a kiss to Rosa’s forehead.

  Out of respect for both women, Jeremy remained silent, allowing them to share their special moment.

  Then Dolores glanced at him over her shoulder, her expression now more accepting than assessing. “Though I must admit that I think he might do okay. Not as good as me, but the boy is a fast learner.”

  He gave her a wink, chuckling at the resigned sigh she answered with.

  After another tight hug with Rosa, Dolores motioned for him to follow her to the front of the house. The older woman made quick work of slipping on her winter coat and scarf, then motioned with her head for him to step out on the front porch with her.

  “Rosita needs a lot of rest,” Dolores said the moment Jeremy closed the door behind him. Worry clouded her eyes and puckered the lines across her forehead. “She has lost much weight. I had noticed at church the past few weeks, but never expected . . . bueno”—she waved off the obvious—“I doubt the two of you did either.”

  Dolores was the closest Rosa had to a parent. A fact that compelled Jeremy to reassure her of his commitment.

  “I’m going to do whatever it takes to help her through this,” he asserted. “Whatever Dr. Jiménez recommends. I promise.”

  “I am trusting you, Jeremy Taylor.” Dolores pointed a finger at him, her no-nonsense stare back in place. “No hanky spanky tonight. Rosita needs her sleep.”

  Hanky spanky?

  He gulped at the inadvertent image her idiom mix-up brought to mind.

  God help him. The absolute last subject he wanted to discuss with Dolores was whether he and Rosa should have sex tonight—or any night, for that matter.

  As it was, if anything could put the kibosh on his libido, it was picturing Dolores’s Mother Superior expression as she waggled her finger at him in warning.

  “I will be by tomorrow, after Rosa is home from school,” Dolores said.

  “And I’ll be here, making sure she at least eats a little, has plenty of fluids, and gets her rest. I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.

  The cold wind picked up, making him shiver since he’d left his coat on the kitchen chair.

  “You go inside,” Dolores ordered. “I do not want you getting sick. But Jeremy—” She grabbed his arm, her fingers tight around his biceps, her face still drawn with worry. “Protéjela.”

  His rudimentary Spanish didn’t fail him this time.

  He placed his hand over Dolores’s, willing her to feel his sincerity.

  “Don’t you worry. I will protect Rosa, and our unborn child, with my life. They’re my familia now, too.”

  Dolores may have stood a good half foot shorter than he did, but the shadows cast by the front porch light intensified the fierce expression on her lined face. It would have made many grown men cower.

  Jeremy didn’t even blink. He meant every single word and it was imperative that she understand that.

  “Hmmm,” Dolores finally said. “Perhaps you will do after all.”

  After giving his cheek a quick pat, she hurried down the walk to a silver Camry parked in front of the house.

  Shivering against the bitter wind, Jeremy returned her wave good-bye, then stood and watched until she rounded the corner.

  Despite the cold, he gazed up at the stars winking at him from the dark blanket of the cloudless midnight sky.

  Yesterday, after dinner, he’d told his mom he would slow down with Rosa. Let her make the calls. And quit with the knee-jerk reactions.

  Little had he imagined that twenty-four hours later her play-calling would involve him moving in with her for the next two weeks.

  Anticipation pumping his heart faster, Jeremy moved to go back inside the Fernandez home.

  Earlier tonight, he’d realized words hadn’t been enough to convince Rosa that he was worthy.

  Well then, the time had come to take some action.

  Chapter Eleven

  Upstairs in her room, Rosa heard the click of the front door closing. She paused in the midst of turning down her bed, her fingers clenching the comforter’s cushiony cotton material. Indecision paralyzed her.

  Maybe climbing into bed was too suggestive. What if Jeremy got the impression she was inviting him to join her?

  Embarrassed heat climbed her face.

  Suddenly panicked, she flung the comforter back into place, hurrying around to the opposite side to straighten it out. Bending down, she snatched the red and orange decorative pillows off the floor, tossing them willy-nilly onto the bed.

  Dios mío, how had things spiraled to this crazy, inconceivable moment?

  Agreeing to Jeremy staying over hadn’t been the brightest of light bulb ideas, but she’d been cornered.

  Tía Dolores mentioned changing her ticket and Rosa had freaked. No way did she want to disrupt Dolores and Pablo’s plans. People would find out and wonder why. They’d talk. About her. If word got back to Father Yosef before she spoke with him . . .

  No, no, no. That wouldn’t be good.

  To avoid any problems, she’d opted for disrupting her own life. Like it wasn’t disrupted enough already. Not to mention Jeremy’s.

  He was too nice to complain. Too much of a good guy not to come to her rescue, but this was only for a few days. Tops.

  As soon as Dolores got on her flight to PR, Jeremy could go home. Rosa would be fine on her own. Yaz was good backup if needed, and Lilí would be here soon enough.

  The stairs creaked. Papi’s built-in home “alarm system” for when Lilí or Yaz had tried to sneak in late was still on alert. Now it signaled Jeremy’s imminent approach.

  Rosa’s gaze swept across her room, from her queen bed to the chocolate-stained six-drawer double dresser along the left wall, scurrying over to the matching low bookshelf and comfy reading armchair and ottoman in the right corner—desperat
e to decide where would be best for him to find her waiting.

  “Rosa?” he called out.

  “In—” She cleared the scratch from her voice. “In here.”

  Knees weak, she sank onto the edge of her bed. She grabbed a circular orange pillow, hugging it against her chest like a shield.

  This was Jeremy. No need to be nervous.

  Yeah, right.

  It would help if every time she looked at the bed she didn’t picture the two of them together. Recalling the intoxicating juxtaposition of his strength and gentleness with her.

  Not to mention the number of times she’d lay in this very bed, wishing he were here with her. Relegated to satisfying her lonely heart by composing lines about him in her private poetry journal. He had inspired some of her best work. Though no one would ever read those lines to know it.

  To make matters worse, he was not going to be thrilled with her plan to thwart Dolores.

  That certainty had Rosa squeezing her pillow shield tighter.

  Jeremy poked his head around the open doorway, a tentative smile curving his lips. He moved to lean against the doorjamb. Not quite crossing the threshold.

  It occurred to her that he’d probably never been upstairs. If so, it hadn’t been to visit her room.

  Then again, no guy had ever been in her room before.

  “You need anything?” he asked.

  The rich timbre of his voice plucked an achy chord deep inside her. She needed some sense of normalcy. Some reassurance that she was making the right decisions.

  She needed them to be okay. But they were far from it.

  Ave Maria purísima, how had her life gotten so complicated, so quickly?

  At the start of the year, her plan had been to graduate and come home, take care of Papi, start carving out her place at Queen of Peace.

  Not even a month later, Papi was gone. Taken from them much too soon.

  He’d been the one person who understood her almost as well as Mami had. The only one who’d recognized the deep void Mami’s death had left in her life. Though Rosa had never admitted her guilt to him, to anyone.

  With Papi’s passing, she’d graduated in May and come home to an empty house.

  Alone.

  Forced to regroup and find her new footing.

  Only tonight, and for the next few days, her home wouldn’t be empty.

  Jeremy would fill the place with his generous personality and this new commanding presence she’d seen only hints of before. He’d be on the other side of the wall in Yaz’s old room.

  The thought of him being so close both scared and electrified her.

  He’d be close, but still a world away. Still unattainable.

  Being pregnant with his child actually made her feel less secure about whether or not she could fit into his social circle. Right or wrong, there would be those who assumed she’d gotten pregnant on purpose to snag the oldest Taylor son.

  Dios mío, she could picture the gossip column headline now.

  Her heart sputtered, overwhelmed by the swarm of dismay and dread she’d been trying to squash.

  The maelstrom of emotion must have shown on her face because Jeremy pushed away from the door, closing the distance between them.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, concern lacing his words. He sat beside her, placing one arm on the bed behind her, the other gently on her forearm.

  The mattress sank under his weight, tipping her toward him, and her shoulder bumped his muscular chest.

  “Are you feeling sick again? I can help you to the bathroom.”

  “No, I’m fine,” she lied. “I think the day just caught up with me.”

  The day, the week, the month.

  Caramba, the whole freaking year.

  “What can I do to help?” Jeremy tucked her hair behind her ear, a new habit of his she found herself enjoying, especially with the faint brush of his fingertips sending heated shivers down her neck.

  His nearness confused her though.

  She felt too much, wanted too much when she was with him. She couldn’t think straight when he was around. And the fear of making another mistake weighed heavily on her.

  Dropping the round pillow on top of the others, Rosa got up and crossed to her dresser. Needing even a small measure of distance between them.

  “I know this is an inconvenience,” she said, leaning her butt against the dresser top. “Commuting in and out of the city for work can be a hassle.”

  “Like I said, I have plenty of vacation days racked up. It won’t be a problem to take the next two weeks off.”

  “No!”

  Jeremy blinked in surprise at her raised voice.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

  He fiddled with the band of a two-tone watch wrapped around his left wrist, unsnapping and snapping the clasp several times before he spoke. “I’m just trying to make things easier for you, Rosa. That’s all.”

  “I’m sure you are. And I appreciate it. But this . . .” She waved a hand back and forth between them. “A few hours ago we both agreed to slow things down. You staying here for the next few days? That’s not slow—”

  “Wait a minute.” Jeremy held up a hand to stop her. “Next few days? You said Lilí won’t be home for two weeks.”

  Rosa grabbed onto the dresser edges on either side of her, closing her eyes on a heavy sigh. Paciencia y fuerza, she reminded herself. This conversation was going to take a mix of both patience and strength.

  “Working half days I’ll be getting more rest than I was before. As soon as Maria and Tomás are better, Yaz can help if I need something. I’ll be fine, so you’ll be off the hook.”

  Jeremy crossed his arms in front of his chest, the rolled-up sleeves of his light blue button-down oxford giving her a peek of his muscular forearms. That pugnacious, tight-jawed expression she’d never seen until this past week was back on his face.

  “What are you playing at, Rosa?” he demanded.

  “I’m not ‘playing at’ anything.”

  His answering steely glare nearly had her ducking her head. Instead, she jutted out her chin and looked him square in the eyes.

  “You can stay until Friday. But once I know Tía Dolores and Tío Pablo are on their way to Puerto Rico, you’re free to go.”

  “If I’m free to go, then I’m also free to stay.”

  “No, you’re not,” she insisted. “I’m sure you have plans for the weekend. Some charity event your parents are hosting. Dinner with coworkers or clients.”

  “No. And if I did, I’d cancel.”

  “That’s not necessary. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Don’t think of it as babysitting. More like companionship.”

  “Forced,” she muttered.

  Jeremy’s mouth twisted with a grimace. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

  His quiet rebuke gave her pause, but her frustration with his obstinacy was exponentially growing.

  Lips pursed to stop herself from saying anything she might regret, Rosa gave him her best I’m-not-playing-games-here stare. The one that usually shushed her students or got them back on task.

  Jeremy didn’t budge.

  “Here’s the deal,” he said, rising from his seat on her bed. He didn’t move closer, but his height combined with the palpable anger emanating from him was intimidating enough.

  Rosa stood her ground though.

  “You might not be worried, but I am. Both Dr. Jiménez and Dolores said this diagnosis isn’t something to fool around with. I mean, come on!” His frustration palpable, he jabbed a hand through his hair, leaving it sexily rumpled. “It put your mom in the hospital, for God’s sake.”

  “She was much worse. There’s no need for us to overreact.”

  “Yeah, there is.” Jeremy dug his hands in his pants pockets, his expression stony. “Here’s the deal. If I’m the one who stays here tonight instead of Dolores, then I’m staying until Lilí is home for the holidays and you have some
one with you full-time.”

  “But that’s not—”

  “No buts. It’s either me”—he jabbed a thumb at his chest—“or Dolores. And don’t think you’ll be able to kick me out after she’s gone to Puerto Rico. I already have her on speed dial, remember? I’ll be on the phone with her so fast, ready to buy her a first-class ticket to fly back here if need be. It’s your call.”

  Ay, he was not playing fair.

  Brow quirked in an annoying arch, he looked like a sexy corporate pirate challenging the maiden to either accept his terms or walk the plank.

  Only she wasn’t a damsel in distress.

  She refused to be one. Or to have him think of her as one anymore.

  Standing to her full five-feet-six-inches, still much shorter than his six-feet-plus, Rosa fisted her hands on her hips. “Fine. Stay then. But I will not be coddled like some china doll you have to handle with kid gloves. I have a ton of stuff to do by the end of the semester, and I won’t have you hovering like, like some kind of helicopter parent.”

  He gave a quick double shake of his head, his confusion evident. “A what?”

  “Helicopter parent. It’s a relatively new term. Common in recent parenting how-tos.” She gestured toward the stack of books on top of her corner bookshelf. The ones she’d ordered online to avoid anyone in Oakton eyeing her purchases at the local bookstore. “Feel free to borrow any if you’d like.”

  Jeremy’s confused expression lingered, though he mumbled his thanks at her offer.

  “If you’re determined to stay, grab your bag from your car and I’ll check Yazmine’s room to make sure it’s ready.”

  “Don’t go to any trouble.”

  Halfway to her door already, Rosa spun back around in a huff. Her stomach complained. She ignored it. “You are a guest in my home, Jeremy. Of course I’m going to make sure you’re comfortable.”

  “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

  “Ditto. But that doesn’t seem to make a difference to you or Tía Dolores. I guess that makes us even.”

  The corners of Jeremy’s mouth twitched like he was biting back a grin.

  “What?” she asked, wondering what could possibly be amusing to him.

  “How come it seems like I’m the only one you give a hard time?”