The flash of chagrin in his baby blues nearly had her reaching out to hug him. Dios, he was such a good guy.
Her heart ached with that knowledge, because it also meant there was no way she could be certain whether he was here with her because he really wanted to be, or out of his sense of duty.
That doubt and her deeply rooted fear of rejection had her fisting her hands in her lap. Resisting the temptation to hug him.
“Now, about this invitation—you aren’t selling me very well. I mean, if you’re iffy, maybe I should be, too.”
“No-no-no!” Jeremy cupped her shoulder in a tight grip. “I’m not iffy. Get that idea out of your head. Please. I just—”
His eyes fluttered closed for a second and he shook his head.
Rosa stilled, growing more and more nervous to hear whatever it was he struggled with.
When Jeremy finally looked at her again, his gaze was earnest, determined. “Without a doubt, there is no ‘if’ involved here, Rosa. Let’s make that clear, okay?”
He waited for her response.
She nodded, the mix of his serious intensity and her jumbled nerves leaving her mute.
“I would love for you to join us on Sunday. I’m hoping you say yes. At least to the part about meeting my mom. The rest of it . . .” He shook his head, a befuddled frown tugging his brows together. “Mom’s the chair for next year’s Literacy Ball. On Sunday, she’s having a couple committee members over for tea and updates, not a full-blown meeting. Anyway, she’s been trying to sweet-talk me into volunteering since I moved back to Chicago. And, if I’m not mistaken, I believe she thinks you’re a surprise ace up her sleeve that could make me fold.”
“Me?” Rosa squeaked.
“Yeah, you.”
His thumb caressed her shoulder through her sweater, the lazy back-and-forth motion creating waves of desire that lapped her soul.
“She’s hoping your interest in books and reading will convince you to join the group, dragging me along with you.”
Join the Literacy Ball committee. With Jeremy’s mom. And a posse of women she didn’t know, and probably would have very little in common with. Women who would think God knows what when they learned about her pregnancy.
Rosa gulped.
Dios mío, she was already worried about what Jeremy’s mom would say about her surprise pregnancy.
Laura Taylor was a woman with class, style, and grace. Rosa’d seen her picture in the Chicago papers plenty of times. Read all the articles about her charity work. The Taylor family had connections to people Rosa had never even dreamed of meeting, much less socializing with.
Mortified by the idea that Laura might believe Rosa had intentionally trapped Jeremy with this pregnancy had her stomach flip-flopping, sending her nausea rising.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Jeremy tightened his grip on her shoulder, his other hand moving to cup the side of her face. “You feeling okay? Come on, let’s head to the restroom.”
He moved to stand, but she put a hand on his thigh to stop him. “No, I’m—I’m good. Just, give me a minute.”
“Whatever you need.”
Jeremy smoothed a hand over her hair. His tenderness drew a pang from her heart.
“Look, forget the committee. I’ll tell her to bag that idea. It’s crazy for my mom to even bring it up. But she’s been involved for so many years it’s like her baby.”
Baby.
The word had Rosa placing a hand against her belly again, where their child grew.
Jeremy followed her movement. Slowly, gently, he put his hand on top of hers.
The heat from his skin, the intimacy of the gesture brought the prick of tears to her eyes.
“This is real, Rosa. This baby connects us. As friends, as something more, who knows. But I do know that I plan to be a part of your lives. And I want you to be a part of mine. So when you’re up for it, no pressure if you’re not ready and Sunday is too soon, simply understand that I would really, really like for you to meet my mom. And the rest of my family.”
Fear of the unknown, of the surreal circumstances one simple decision had wrought, was like an evil specter crooking a bony finger and wielding a strange power to suck the breath from her body. Her head spun, but the certainty in Jeremy’s voice, the sincerity in his eyes and the secret love for him she held deep in her heart gave her courage.
He’d been so patient with her this week. While she’d been content to play house and avoid any difficult conversation.
Jeremy was doing his part to make their strange situation less awkward. He’d faced her family. All of them, including Tía Dolores.
He’d come to her school. Met her students. Showed an honest interest in what was important to her.
She owed it to him and their unborn child to do her part in making things work. Whatever “things” wound up meaning for them.
“Okay,” she whispered. “But, to only meeting your mom, not the committee.”
He blinked in surprise, or shock. Maybe both.
“Okay?” he repeated, his voice a whisper of gruff relief.
She nodded, and before she could say anything else, Jeremy leaned in to press a kiss on her lips.
Caught by surprise, she stiffened for a heartbeat. Then the desire building inside her swelled and she gave into it. Grasping his sweater in her fists, she pulled him closer.
Jeremy answered by digging his hands into her hair on either side of her head. His tongue flicked across her lips, and she opened for him, savoring the hint of coffee she tasted.
Their tongues brushed, caressed. Desire chugged through her veins, heating her body. Giving rise to an ache she knew only he could soothe.
He deepened the kiss and she moaned, wanting more from him. His arms wrapped around her to pull her onto his lap. She went willingly. Matching him kiss for kiss.
Then his lips broke from hers to run a trail along her jaw, over to her ear where he blew a warm breath before moving to press a kiss on the sensitive spot behind her ear.
“You taste so good,” he murmured.
She couldn’t answer, her senses keenly focused on the heat of his lips against her skin. On how she wanted more.
He continued his trail of kisses along her neck, returning to her jaw, coming closer and closer to her lips.
“I don’t want to stop.” His words were nothing more than a mumble, but they reminded her of their surroundings.
“But we should,” she lamented, because, darn it, she was always the one who did what she should.
Well, almost always.
His lips met her for one last deep, mind-boggling kiss. His tongue teasing hers in a sensual dance. Drunk on the taste of him, she didn’t want the moment to end, but ever the gentleman, Jeremy eventually drew back.
Rosa slid off his lap onto her chair, belatedly realizing she still held a death grip on his sweater. She uncurled her fingers, then patted down the bunched-up material. Taking full advantage of the opportunity to feel his muscular chest.
“It seems like we communicate pretty well in this area, don’t we?”
Jeremy’s words brought heat crawling up her neck, into her face.
He chuckled, brushing the back of a knuckle up and down her cheek. “You’re kind of cute when you blush.”
Rosa rolled her eyes with a groan. “Dios mío, I wish I could stop it from happening. It’s the bane of my existence. The genesis of the high school nickname I detest.”
“Rosie Rosa, huh?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I can’t believe Lilí shared that story with you.”
“How about Beautiful Rosy Rosa?”
Angling her head, she gave him one of her younger sister’s infamous are-you-kidding-me side-eye glares.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then.”
“Smart man.”
He laughed, the sound deep and husky, a balm for her lonely life.
“Okay, I’ll stick with, ‘Beautiful, sweet Rosa, thank you for agreeing to meet my mom. It means
a lot to me.’”
“Well, when you put it that way, how can I resist?” she teased, delighted by his words.
“I’ll tell her we can stop by for tea with her and my dad. That’s all. Sound good?”
She nodded. The intimidating thought of meeting both his parents making her too nervous to say anything else.
With a smile, he stood and extended his hand to her. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
Rosa clasped her hand with his. The rightness of his palm pressed against hers, the warmth shared between their touch wrapped around her like a force shield. It was so easy to draw courage from his confidence.
While a part of her dreaded Sunday and the idea of stepping into his world to meet Laura Taylor and any preconceived notions the woman might have about her, Rosa refused to be afraid.
Come what may, she’d be strong, holding her head up high. For herself. For Jeremy and their baby. For their future.
* * *
Fifteen minutes into their nearly hour-long drive from Oakton to his parents’ building on south Michigan Avenue, Jeremy decided it might be best to let sleeping dogs lie. Stop trying to draw Rosa out with small talk. Her one-word answers made it clear she wasn’t interested in conversation.
He tuned his satellite radio to a smooth jazz station and drove in silence, hoping music would calm her nerves.
Unfortunately, as he maneuvered from I-90 to West Congress, then onto West Jackson Boulevard, her face remained pale, her lower lip raw and red from her constant gnawing on it.
A winter storm had blown in overnight, turning the day a bitter and frigid barely twenty degrees. Despite the cold, since there hadn’t been any snow or ice, the streets were busy with holiday shoppers and traffic.
Pulling up in front of his parents’ building, Jeremy handed his BMW keys to the valet and hurried around to Rosa’s side of the car. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, offering his warmth as he ushered her inside.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Taylor. It’s good to see you.”
“Hi, Charles!” Jeremy returned the greeting, noting the doorman’s wind-burned cheeks. “It’s pretty bitter out today. Need any of those heated hand warmers? Say the word, I’ll go pick some up for you.”
The older man shook his head. “You’re too kind, but don’t worry. This old battle axe can take anything Mother Nature and Chi-town want to throw at me.”
Jeremy shook his head at the old line Charles had been giving him since Jeremy was a kid.
A robust, red-haired Irish Catholic with wizened green eyes and a quick smile, Charles had been as much a fixture of Jeremy’s youth as summer days on the shore of Lake Michigan with his brother and their friends.
“Rosa, I’d like you to meet Charles O’Riley. Charles, this is Rosa Fernandez.” Jeremy glanced down at her, still pressed against his side, shivering with cold. “Charles is a legend here. This man has contacts with contacts with contacts. There’s nothing about Chicago history he doesn’t know. But don’t get him started on his beloved Cubs baseball team or we’ll be here all afternoon.”
Charles’s belly laugh tugged a tiny smile from Rosa’s until-now frowning lips.
“Welcome, Ms. Fernandez. Don’t let this young scamp get away with anything, you hear me? And if you wanna talk Cubs ball, go right ahead.”
Rosa pulled her leather glove off her right hand to offer a shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Charles. Please, call me Rosa.”
“The pleasure’s all mine,” Charles responded, sidestepping her name request.
She could ask all she wanted. Jeremy had been trying to get Charles to call him by his first name for ages. The older man refused to budge.
“Unfortunately, I’m not the sports fan in our family,” Rosa said. “That moniker belongs to my younger sister. But Chicago history”—Rosa leaned toward Charles like she was about to divulge a secret—“now there’s a topic I can dive into.”
“Ooh, I like her.” Charles wagged his finger at Jeremy, a sly grin adding more wrinkles to the older man’s ruddy face.
“Me too,” Jeremy said. “And I want to keep it that way, so no sharing of adolescent misdeeds, okay?”
Charles laughed in response.
A hand on the small of Rosa’s back, Jeremy ushered her through the entry foyer with its brocade-covered settees, gold wall sconces, and Tiffany lamps, toward the burnished metal elevator doors.
“Nice meeting you, Charles.” Rosa waved good-bye as Jeremy hit the button to call the elevator.
“He’s friendly,” she said, pitching her voice so only he could hear.
“Yeah, he’s a good guy,” Jeremy answered. “Charles helped my brother and me through a few scrapes over the years.” The doors opened, and Jeremy waited for Rosa to move in ahead of him. “Who am I kidding, he’s still bailing Michael out every now and then.”
Jeremy inserted his private keycard into the panel slot and pressed the penthouse button, then moved to stand next to Rosa.
“So, your parents live in the, uh, the penthouse?” Her voice hitched on the last word as the doors closed.
“We moved in here when I was in seventh grade. There’s a great view of the city from the patio.”
The elevator began its smooth ascent, and it was almost like the ease Rosa had shown with Charles seeped out of her, remaining back on the building’s ground level with the doorman.
Her entire body stiffened. Hands clenched, she gripped her leather gloves like a lifeline.
Jeremy playfully bumped her shoulder with his, trying to lighten her mood.
Rosa jumped like he’d poked her with a live electrical wire.
His spirits dipped.
Damn, he’d been so hopeful about today. Looking forward to his mom and Rosa getting a chance to know each other.
Now he wasn’t so sure. Other than those few moments in the lobby with Charles, Rosa had been closed off, growing more withdrawn every mile they’d driven farther from her house.
“Hey, if you’re not up for this, we can get off on the next floor and take the elevator back down,” he offered, forcing a note of calm into his voice even though his stomach twisted with disappointment. “I’m fine with whatever you want to do.”
Rosa bowed her head.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m trying to not . . . I seem to have worked myself up to a . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she sucked in a shaky breath.
When she finally glanced up at him, her soft brown eyes were a tumultuous mix of fear and resignation.
His heart melted a little more for her.
Sure, Rosa typically preferred staying in her comfort zone, but he hadn’t expected her to be this nervous about coming here today.
“My mom’s not that bad, I promise.”
“It’s just, I’ve wanted to meet her for a long time, you know?” she said.
No, he hadn’t known. Her admission intrigued him.
“The thing is, I hadn’t intended it to be like, well, not like this.” Rosa pressed a hand to her stomach.
Shame shadowed her beautifully expressive face.
Aw, man. Guilt for putting her in this awkward position soured his excitement over their visit.
Without thinking twice about it, he stabbed a finger at the red stop button on the panel.
The car jerked to a halt.
“Ay Dios mío!” Rosa stumbled backward and he grasped her elbows to steady her. “Qué estás haciendo?” She shook her head as if realizing she’d spoken in Spanish. “Jeremy, what are you doing?”
“Giving us a minute to get something straight,” he said, his voice gruff with frustration. Mostly at himself for not realizing how she felt. “You have nothing to be ashamed of here, Rosa. I care about you. And I’m pretty sure you care about me, right?”
“Um, yes,” she murmured, her eyes wide pools of shock.
“We’re not coming here to be judged. Not the slightest bit. We’re here because you’re important to me.”
He slid his hands up to cup
her face, bending to press a kiss to her forehead, her cheek. And because he couldn’t resist, he lightly brushed her lips with his. “We’re here because my mom wants to meet the amazing woman who’s pregnant with her first grandchild. There’s no pressure. No expectations other than I hope you like her as much as I know she’s going to love you.”
Blinking rapidly, Rosa caught her lower lip between her teeth.
God help him. Every time she did that, he wanted to nibble on that luscious lip for her.
The urge to take her mouth with his, try calming her nerves—hell, his own nerves—by giving in to the undeniable chemistry between them was nearly irresistible.
It took all his willpower to keep his mind on the original reason why he’d stopped the elevator: to calm her down. Convince her there was no reason for her to be nervous.
It definitely hadn’t been so he could coax her into engaging in all the hot and heavy activities he’d rather be doing with her in a stopped elevator.
“Look, if you’re not ready, say the word,” he offered.
He’d leave right now if Rosa asked him to. Though his mom would be disappointed.
Who was he kidding?
He’d be disappointed. Big time.
This was a huge step for him. He hadn’t brought a girl home since freshman year of undergrad, and then only once. Cecile, whom he’d dated for a bit before starting his master’s degree, didn’t really count. Their families had been close for ages so it wasn’t out of the norm for her to be around.
With Rosa, it was different. He felt different.
“Do you want to go home? It’s okay if you do.”
Rosa shook her head, tiny side-to-side jerks that weren’t too convincing.
“I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
She stared up at him, her brown eyes big pools of indecision.
He could see the wheels turning in her head. All he could do was hope like hell they’d wind up steering her in the direction he wanted. But he wouldn’t push.
“We should stay,” she finally said. “I don’t want to disappoint your mom.”
Jeremy bit back a sigh. Of course she’d think of the other person before herself.
“Come on.” She waved her gloves at the control panel. “Push the button again before we get stuck in here and someone has to come get us out. Talk about making a scene.”
Her Perfect Affair Page 19