“I’m Rome Novak,” the man introduced himself. “I work with Alec in the snowplow business.” He grinned with a mischievous expression and added, “When I’m not moonlighting as a potential home-wrecker, that is.” He paused and arched his handsome, dark eyebrows, continuing, “Or a waiter at my parents’ restaurant.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you officially,” Tierney said as he released her hand. The warm, tingling sensation his touch had caused to travel up her arm lingered, however. “I’m Tierney O’Brien, Alec’s sister…when I’m not moonlighting as a parasitical sibling, that is.”
“No way,” Rome Novak kindly argued. “Alec has been bouncing off the walls ever since he talked you into moving out here. You’ll be good for him.” He lowered his voice and leaned closer to Tierney. “And maybe you can talk him into asking out that little blonde he’s so crushed on over at the Christmas Shoppe. I can’t get him to move on that.”
Tierney smiled at her brother. “Hmmm. A little blonde in a Christmas Shoppe, is it?”
“Rome!” Alec scolded. “Man, don’t go telling my sister stuff like that. You know how women are all match-makey and stuff.”
However, Rome leaned closer to Tierney—close enough that his breath on her cheek caused goose bumps to erupt over the back of her neck.
“Her name is Heidi…if you can believe it,” he whispered. “Heidi Svensson.”
“Heidi Svensson, is it?” Tierney asked, winking teasingly at her brother.
“Dude!” Alec scolded his friend. “Man, just put in two orders of brats with sauerkraut and be gone, garçon.” Alec waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
Rome Novak smiled, winked at Tierney, and mouthed, Heidi Svensson at the Christmas Shoppe, and then said, “Yes, sir. Will that be all, sir?”
“That and some lederhosen on our waiter,” Alec teased.
“Two brats with sauerkraut. Got it,” Rome repeated, ignoring Alec’s lederhosen remark. “We’ll have that right out for you.” He paused, smiled at Tierney, and added, “And it’s good to finally meet you, officially, Tierney.”
“You too,” she managed in response.
She sighed as she watched Rome Novak walk away, noticing the way every other woman in the restaurant watched him walk away as well.
Then, turning to her far-too-secretive brother, Tierney exclaimed, “He works with you?” in a reprimanding whisper. “You could’ve warned me that I was about to come face-to-face with…with…with…”
“Your dream lover?” Alec chuckled.
“Shut up!” Tierney scolded between gritted teeth. “I about passed out when I looked up and saw him standing there! How embarrassing!”
But Alec merely shrugged. “Why? He’s my friend…and he did me a big favor. Actually, he did you a big favor. So just let it go. He’s cool about it. He’s cool about everything. So you just be cool too.”
“Easy for you to say,” Tierney grumbled. She frowned when Alec laughed to himself. “What now? What is so funny to you about all this?”
“You,” he answered. “ ‘I’ll have one classic Latin lover, please,’ ” he repeated, mimicking Tierney’s voice. “Great intro, Tiers. I’ll give you that one. Great intro.”
Tierney sighed with mingled exasperation and amusement at her brother’s antics. She shook her head as she studied him a moment.
“You’re a total brat, you know,” she told him. “And I’m just glad Mr. Novak there told me about your little Christmas Shoppe girl.”
Instantly Alec leveled an index finger at Tierney. “Don’t go there, Tiers. Rome was just trying to get me back because of the lederhosen thing.”
“Heidi,” Tierney sighed with triumph, however. “Heidi Svensson. And she works at the Christmas Shoppe. How perfect!”
“I’ll show you a perfect knuckle sandwich if you keep it up, girl,” Alec playfully threatened.
Tierney frowned a moment then, thoughtful. “Rome Novak?” she asked. “Where does a guy get a name like that?”
“His parents’ last name is Novak,” her smart-aleck brother responded.
“Yes, I can figure that much out, Smart Alec,” she mumbled. “But he just doesn’t look like a Novak. He looks more like a…like a…”
“Like a Montalbán?” Alec teased.
“Well, yeah…if you want to know the truth,” Tierney admitted. “That dark hair…his skin is, like, perfectly…like…so naturally tan and—”
“Oh, give me a break,” Alec interrupted. “This sounds like a makeup demonstration at Dillard’s.” Shaking his head and lowering his voice, he said, “Rome and his sister are adopted. Rome was born in Mexico City, and his sister was born in Cuba. His parents couldn’t have kids biologically, so they adopted Rome and Celeste when they were babies.” Alec sighed and sat back in his chair. “Yep, Mr. and Mrs. Novak are just plain old white people. Rome and Celeste, however…both of them are totally stunning. I mean, Celeste has these green eyes that can look right through you. It’s freaky-gorgeous.”
“Freaky-gorgeous,” Tierney repeated. “Now there’s a phrase I like. It’s very descriptive.”
Alec nodded, and then silence hung between them for a moment.
“When’s your interview at the florist?” he asked.
“Day after tomorrow,” Tierney answered as anxiety began to well in her. “I’m so nervous, Alec. I feel like…like I was never prepared for stuff like this.”
“That’s because you weren’t,” Alec affirmed. “Mom tried to raise you to be a trophy wife…like all those old biddies she hangs with. Someone to shop all day, hang out at the country club, and look down their nose at other people.”
Alec studied Tierney for a long moment. She could see the emotion in his eyes—his brother’s love for her and his joy that he’d managed to help her escape.
“You’ll like it here in the real world, Tierney,” he said then. “People are nice…friendly. Even the mean ones aren’t as mean as some people in Mom’s circle. I’m so glad you’re here. I need you.”
Tierney felt the tears welling in her eyes—tears of joy in knowing Alec loved her as much as she loved him—tears of joy in knowing they wouldn’t be apart any longer.
Reaching across the table, she took hold of his hand and squeezed it with tender affection. “I’m glad I’m here too, Alec. And I need you too. Thank you for rescuing me.”
But Alec’s smile of mischief returned. “Don’t you mean thank you for sending Rome to bust up your wedding?”
Tierney rolled her eyes, shaking her head with amused exasperation. “Well, that too, I suppose.”
“Hey…I forgot to ask you guys what you want to drink.”
Tierney startled a little in her seat at the sound of Rome Novak’s voice behind her. In the next moment, he was standing right next to her, asking, “Water or something else? Or both?”
“I-I’ll just have water, thanks,” Tierney answered.
“Me too,” Alec answered.
“I’ll bring them out then,” Rome said. Tierney looked up when she heard him add, “Hey, Tierney.”
“Yeah?” she asked, looking up at him—then wishing she hadn’t, because just looking at him caused her stomach to fill with butterflies.
Quietly he whispered, “Heidi Svensson…at the Christmas Shoppe.”
Tierney smiled, giggled a little, and whispered, “Got it!”
“Man! I am gonna take you out,” Alec grumbled.
“I’ll get those waters,” Rome chuckled.
Again Tierney watched Rome walk across the restaurant toward the kitchen—watched every other woman of any age watch him walk as well.
“So I guess he’s quite the ladies’ man, huh?” she asked Alec.
“Oh, they all wish he were,” Alec answered. “But Rome is kind of stupid when it comes to women. He doesn’t see them gawking at him and stuff. He’s just a regular guy. It’s one reason I like him. He’s just normal, you know?”
Normal? Tierney thought, however. There was nothing normal about Rome Nov
ak! Not where looks were concerned, anyway.
Yet Tierney tried not to think about the fact that she would now reside in the same city as the man who had showed up in a tuxedo, tangoed with her, kissed her, and changed her life. He was just a guy, after all—Alec’s friend and business associate. Tierney knew she’d have to let go of the memory of the mysterious Latin lover that had snapped her brain to attention all those months ago. But the realization deeply saddened her, for it had been such a wonderful memory to cling to. Those moments in Rome Novak’s arms—those moments she was able to live the dream of being held the way he’d held her and kissed the way he’d kissed her—they’d carried her through, changed her life, and it would be difficult to ignore it all.
Exhaling a heavy sigh, Tierney smiled at Alec and asked, “So…when do you usually start having to plow snow?”
“Any day now,” Alec answered. He smiled at her, leaned forward on the table, and said, “And, Tiers, I cannot wait for you to see Christmas in this place! If you think the leaves of autumn are pretty, you’ll freak when you see the Christmas lights…especially when it’s snowing.”
Tierney smiled again. “It sounds like a dream!” she said.
“Oh, it looks like a dream,” Alec assured her.
Tierney was hopeful then. Christmas in such a dreamy setting—she could imagine it would be wonderful. And maybe it would help her to let go of the dream she’d been dreaming for so long. Maybe the excitement of Christmas, and the joy of finally getting to share it with Alec again, would lessen her disappointment in having to accept that Rome Novak had only been playing the part Alec had asked him to when he’d appeared at her doomed bridal shower.
But when Rome returned to the table with two glasses of water, Tierney knew that nothing would ever soothe that disappointment—the disappointment in knowing Rome Novak would never just suddenly appear again and whisk Tierney away on wings of her ultimate dream come true and the unexpected, and instant, passion that had accompanied it.
Chapter Three
Tierney brushed the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. As she watched John Wayne’s and Gail Russell’s ghosts sailing together on a ship of clouds, she sniffled—wishing the old black-and-white movie would’ve ended differently.
“Another unhappy ending,” she mumbled as she put a check mark on the list of movies she had sitting on the end of the ironing board. “And a frowny face,” she whispered as she drew a frowny face following the checkmark. Sure, she’d had good cry when Gail Russell had died in John Wayne’s arms, but even a good cry was no excuse for an unhappy ending.
Tierney propped the iron back safely on its haunches and sat down on the couch to rifle through the other DVDs piled there. The fact of the matter was Tierney was incredibly stressed out! Her interview with the florist in town was later that very afternoon, and Tierney had woken up in such a bundle of nerves that she’d known right away there was only one thing to do—ironing.
Ironing was Tierney’s coping mechanism. She couldn’t really remember when she’d discovered that the act of ironing calmed her down, but it was before the age of twelve—she knew that much. Shirts, pillowcases, her grandfather’s handkerchiefs, or her grandmother’s quilting fabric—it hadn’t matter what it was she was allowed to iron, but by the age of twelve, Tierney had discovered that ironing soothed her. At first it was just the rhythmic motion of ironing she found relaxed her. Then it was the sound of the steam the iron exhaled each time she lifted it. By the time Tierney was eighteen, she’d discovered that if she simultaneously watched old movies while she ironed, she could distract her mind from worrisome events that were upcoming.
Thus, now she found herself having just watched a rather disappointing old John Wayne and Gail Russell movie in an attempt to distract her thoughts from her upcoming job interview. Naturally, she couldn’t end on a sad note. Therefore, choosing an old and familiarly safe musical starring Esther Williams and her ever-beloved Ricardo Montalbán, Tierney pushed play on the DVD player and retrieved one of Alec’s T-shirts from the pile she’d found in the basket of clean laundry on top of the dryer.
The opening credits and music began to roll, and Tierney sighed with satisfaction. No matter how many times she watched Neptune’s Daughter, it always ended the same happy way—and Esther Williams and Ricardo Montalbán never ended up swimming in the clouds of heaven together in it.
The doorbell rang, and Tierney frowned. She didn’t feel like talking to some desperate solicitor, so she ignored the first ring and the second. But when whomever it was began hammering on the door like aliens were landing in Leavenworth to turn citizens into pod people, Tierney sighed, set the iron on its haunches, and went to the door.
“Okay, okay! Where’s the fire?” she asked as she opened the door. She gasped, however, breathing, “Oh,” as she saw none other that Rome Novak standing at the threshold.
“Hi, Tierney,” Rome greeted. “Where’s your brother? I just scored the best…” His voice trailed off as a frown puckered his handsome, handsome brow. “Are you okay?” he asked, studying her face.
“Oh! Oh yeah!” Tierney assured him, remembering that she’d been crying only moments before. “I-I was just—”
“Are you sure?” Rome asked, stepping into the house and closing the door behind him. He was holding a package in one hand but reached up with his free one, cupping her cheek and brushing a tear away with his thumb.
The gesture was entirely thrilling to every physical sense Tierney owned, and she tried to ignore the quiver of delight that traveled up her spine.
“Yeah. I-I was just watching one of my ironing movies, and it had a sad ending, you know?” she awkwardly explained.
Rome’s frown lingered, however, even as he asked, “Ironing movies?”
“Yeah,” Tierney affirmed, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “I like to iron when I’m stressed out. And I’ve got that interview today, so I just put a movie in and was ironing…and it ended really badly and—”
“You iron when you’re stressed out?” he more stated than asked. His frown disappeared, and he smiled again, obviously amused at her confession.
As Rome quickly studied Tierney from head to toe, his smile broadening as he did so, Tierney remembered exactly what she was wearing: the oldest pair of baggy pajama bottoms she owned—pink with the word bootylicious stamped across the rear end—and an old brown T-shirt she’d owned since high school that had a picture of ’N Sync screen-printed on the front.
“I-I, um…I was just kind of lounging around waiting until it was time to get ready for that interview and…” she stammered.
“And ironing and watching movies,” Rome finished for her.
“Yeah,” she admitted, blushing crimson.
Rome was still smiling at her—still looking her up and down as if she were a funny sort of museum display.
“Is Alec here?” he asked. “I’ve been trying to call him, and he’s not answering.”
“I think he forgot his phone,” Tierney answered. “I tried to call him too and got his voicemail. He went out to get a few things at the store.”
“Man,” Rome breathed with disappointment. “I scored big, and he’s gotta see this.” He paused a moment and then asked, “Do you care if I wait for him? It’s for the party tomorrow night.” He held up the package in his hand. “He’s gonna love these! They’re perfect for our thing for my mom.”
“Your thing for your mom?” Tierney asked. She had no idea what Rome was talking about, though she did truly love watching his lips move when he talked—his perfectly shaped, entirely manly lips that had once been pressed to hers.
“Didn’t Alec tell you?” he asked. “I mean, you’ve gotta be there too. You’re not going to want to miss it. And besides, it’s Halloween. What else are you gonna do?” He looked around a moment. “Looks like you’ve got all the ironing done, so there’s no excuse not to come tomorrow night.”
“Come where?” Tierney asked.
“To my
family’s Halloween party, of course,” Rome answered as if he’d expected her to know all about it. “We have it every year, and this year Alec and I have a special surprise for my mom. She’s going to love it. I can’t wait to see her face.”
He moved past Tierney, plopped down on the sofa behind her, and tossed the package he’d been holding to one side. Tierney heard him chuckle and immediately knew why. Attempting to cover her bum with her hands, she spun around and faced him.
“Bootylicious, huh?” he teased. Winking at her, he said, “Well, I wholeheartedly concur.”
“Sorry. It’s just a pair of my old…I wasn’t expecting anyone and…” Tierney sputtered, still blushing.
“Oh, but don’t mind me,” Rome said with a gesture that she should continue ironing. “You go on and iron away.” Grinning at her, he continued, “In fact, why don’t you do me a little favor here?”
Tierney didn’t know what to do or where to run as Rome stood once more and began unbuttoning the black button-up shirt he was wearing.
“Since I’m going to my mom’s house in a little while, I know she’s going to give me a hard time for the condition of my collar.” Stripping off his shirt to reveal the most perfectly formed torso Tierney had ever seen on a man in real life, Rome held his shirt out to her. “Would you mind pressing it out for me? Just the collar, I mean? If you have time.”
“Oh…s-sure,” Tierney said, accepting the shirt Rome held toward her. It was still warm from the heat of his body, and Tierney caught a whiff of a reminiscently familiar scent—the same scent he’d carried months ago while dancing with her.
“You sure you just want the collar pressed?” she asked as she positioned the shirt on the ironing board.
“Yeah,” he assured her. “It’s always what Mom seems to notice.”
“Okay,” Tierney said. Yet as she started to iron, she heard Rome sit back down on the couch—began to worry if her bum was moving around too much and attracting his attention to the stupid “bootylicious” written across it. It was mortifying, being caught in such a state of sloppy self-indulgence. He’d think she were a lazy, whiny baby. She couldn’t believe she’d told him about her ironing thing—about the sappy movies too.
One Classic Latin Lover, Please Page 4