“I did, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She held out her hand.
He didn’t budge. “My truck’s dirty and I don’t want you to get your expensive suit messed up.”
When he mentioned her suit, his eyes trailed down her body, and warmth suffused every inch of skin. “Why don’t you let me worry about that? All I’m doing is holding the flashlight.”
Good. Her voice sounded normal, but her pulse had started racing. What was it about him? She had never even dated outside of her racial dating pool before.
With a shrug, he handed her the flashlight and turned his attention to loosening the first clamp holding the cable to the terminal.
“You’re here later than usual. Dad said you normally come by during the day to check on your workers.”
Freddie nodded. “I got a job way down east on Highway 20, and I worked down there all day. It wasn’t convenient for me to check in during the day like I have been doing. Your house is on the way home, so I thought I’d stop in tonight to see the progress. My guys are good, but I like to keep a close eye on things in the beginning.” He pulled off the cable and found the dull-looking terminal was also covered in the ashy-looking deposit.
“I appreciate you being so attentive. It’s hard to find good contractors who stick to their word and take such pride in their work.”
“I hear that a lot.” He shook his head. “The best way to grow a business is through word of mouth. I aim to please every time.”
I bet you do. “How long have you been in business?”
He looked up from working on the second terminal. “I’ve been in business for myself about ten years.” He refocused on the task. “Technically, though, I have over twenty years of experience. If you count the work I did with my father from the time I was a kid.”
When the cables on both batteries were removed, he pulled a flathead screwdriver from his tool belt and began to scrape off the acid build up. A tool belt. Who knew it could be so sexy? She conjured an image of him in a plaid shirt with the top buttons undone. She imagined the tanned skin of his solid chest as he walked toward her in slow motion with his tool belt slung low on his narrow hips and a hammer in his hand.
Julia lost her grip on the flashlight and it slipped from her clammy fingers. The beam of light went haywire as she tried to catch it but instead bumped it into the air and made it crash land with a thud onto the bumper of the truck. Freddie’s startled gaze was the last thing she saw before the flashlight hit the ground and extinguished.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!”
“It’s okay, I—” His voice broke off when their heads collided as they both reached down to fumble for the flashlight in the darkness. Freddie groaned and straightened, clutching his forehead.
“Ow!”
Julia brought her hand up to her temple, but the sudden movement and the blow caused her to teeter backwards. Her arms flailed wildly right before she lost her balance and landed on her butt in the grass. Stunned, she sat there for a moment, staring up at him.
“Are you all right?”
The alarm in his voice coupled with the embarrassment of her fall made the whole situation seem unreal—and absolutely hilarious. He extended a hand to her but instead of taking it, Julia broke into a fit of giggles. They came from deep down inside of her, bubbles of hysterical laughter she couldn’t stop. She wrapped her arms around her abdomen to ease her pained stomach muscles.
She finally calmed down enough to notice Freddie on one knee in front of her. She swiped tears from her lashes.
“Are you all right?” The level of concern in his voice had gone up another notch.
She tried to catch her breath. “You have no…idea how much…I needed that. I’ve had a …rotten day.”
He plopped down beside her on the grass. Sitting so close, she had a decent view of his face. He looked at her oddly, studying her.
“Glad I could help.”
A thread of electricity stretched between them and Julia lowered her gaze. The same clamminess that caused her to drop the flashlight returned to her palms.
Her reaction was completely out of character. She’d never been attracted to blue collar types. She always preferred her men to wear suits and carry a briefcase. They needed to be well-groomed with neatly trimmed short hair, and immaculate at all times. Freddie Mendoza turned that theory on its head with his ponytail, jeans that looked dirt-stained from years of use, calloused hands, and work boots.
A gurgling sound caught her attention. It was Freddie’s turn to be embarrassed. He laid a hand over his stomach.
“I haven’t eaten since lunch.”
Julia nodded. “I get like that sometimes.” She pointed to where the bottle of soda rested next to her briefcase. “Dinner.”
“Is that how you keep your girlish figure?” The teasing remark warmed her insides, and a smile of pleasure graced her lips.
“Not exactly. I didn’t feel like stopping on my way home to get something to eat, and I’m going to work on some files before I go to bed.”
“You just spent, what…twelve or thirteen hours at work, and you brought work home?”
When he said it like that, it did sound ridiculous. “There’s nothing I can do about it. I need to stay up late and finish what I couldn’t at work. Not to mention I’m officially addicted to caffeine and should probably try to wean myself off of it.”
“A bottle of soda would not be enough for me,” Freddie said with a shake of his head. “I need to eat food.” As big as he was, that came as no surprise. He held his hands about twelve inches apart. “I need a nice heaping plate of chicken or fish, rice, beans, and tostones.”
“Tostones?”
Freddie nodded. He pressed the tips of his forefinger and thumb together. “They’re sliced circles of green plantains fried, then mashed, then fried again. We eat them as a side dish, but they can also be served as an appetizer.”
“I don’t eat anything fried, but I’d love to taste the rest of the items on your imaginary plate. Do you cook a lot?”
“No. I don’t cook at all. Whenever I want a home cooked meal, I go to my sister’s house. I can barely boil water.”
Interesting. Either he didn’t have a woman in his life, or she was just as helpless in the kitchen as he was.
“You have two functioning hands. Why can’t you cook for yourself?”
“These hands are only good for manual labor.”
Julia took a good look at his large hands. She doubted that was the only thing they were good for. Before her thoughts went down the same path that had caused the mishap with the flashlight, she asked, “Ready to try again?”
“Sure.” He rose to his feet. “You don’t have a concussion, do you?”
His words pulled another laugh from her. “I’ll let you know after I see a doctor first thing in the morning. Then I’ll send you the bill.”
Taking his outstretched hand, she allowed him to draw her to her feet. Soon he located the flashlight, and they once again stood over the open hood of the truck. He worked in silence, using the screwdriver to scrape as much of the acid from the battery terminals as he could. This time she concentrated on the task instead of letting her imagination run wild.
Freddie stopped what he was doing and rested his palms on the edge of the vehicle. “That’s about as much as I can get off. Hopefully, that should do it.”
“You know, I heard once that using coke can clean the acid off a battery. Do you want to use mine to make sure you removed all of it?”
He straightened. “I thought that was dinner.”
“I have veggies in the fridge, or I could make a sandwich or something.” She lifted the bottle from the grass and handed it to him. “Here.”
“That’s really nice of you.”
“Don’t sound so surprised!”
“I didn’t mean to. You’re…not what I expected, that’s all.”
“And what did you expect?” All of sudden, his opinion mattered to her.
Freddie unsc
rewed the cap. “I’m not going there.”
“So it’s bad.”
“No, not really.” He poured the dark liquid over the terminals, avoiding her gaze. They both watched as it interacted with the acid, bubbling and fizzing. “You’re a professional woman, and usually women like you don’t want to get their hands dirty. Any other woman would probably have been upset about her suit getting filthy after taking a fall. She wouldn’t want to get her shiny black pumps dirty, and she definitely wouldn’t have offered up her coke.”
“What kind of women are you used to? I couldn’t leave you out here when I could help. My clothes can be cleaned, and if I find it hard to stay up later, I could always drink some coffee.”
His gaze connected with hers. “Like I said, that’s really nice of you.”
The intensity of his brown eyes caused a zing to pass through her. There was no mistaking it this time. Freddie made her feel things she hadn’t felt in a while. She swallowed down the uneasiness in her gut and made a production out of smoothing non-existent wrinkles from her skirt.
The light streaming on the battery wiggled until she brought the slight tremor of her hand under control. Silence descended between them. The only sounds came from the chorus of crickets serenading them from the bushes and his movements as he used a rag to wipe clean the coke from the terminals. After the cleaning, the terminals, formerly dull gray, returned to a shiny silver color.
After Freddie finished reattaching the cables, Julia let out a relieved breath and handed him the flashlight. He appeared unruffled, while for her the last few minutes had been tension filled. Surely she couldn’t have been the only one who felt it.
Freddie slammed down the hood of the truck. “Thanks a lot for your help.”
“You’re welcome.” She picked up her briefcase and turned to go, although a part of her wanted to linger longer.
“Let me know if I need to pay the dry cleaning bill.”
His voice halted her retreat. With a furrowed brow she faced him again, and she could just make out the amused look on his face.
“I’ll do that,” she said, too soft, with a breathless quality to her voice he couldn’t have missed.
He was studying her again the same way he had earlier. Unnerved, she tightened her fingers around the handle of the briefcase and moved as quickly as her pumps could carry her up the sloped lawn. She could feel his dark gaze on her the entire time until she turned the corner and practically ran to the front door.
CHAPTER FOUR
Friday night, after a quick stop at the store to pick up groceries for dinner, Julia arrived home earlier than usual. It had been a long week.
She stripped off her pants suit and got comfortable in a pair of baggy shorts and a T-shirt from her alma mater, then set her sights on making dinner. The distant sound of a hammer could be heard downstairs.
Julia switched on the radio to her favorite jazz station and poured herself a glass of white wine. Standing before the stove, she closed her eyes briefly, savoring the sweet flavor as the liquid oozed across her palate and calmed her shredded nerves.
“Hey, how was your day?”
Julia turned away from the stove to send a smile in her father’s direction. “Long and stressful, but nothing you want to hear about.”
“Try me.”
She stirred the pot a few times before answering. “The deal I’d been working on all week—the one I told you almost fell through?”
“Mhmm.”
“I managed to save it at the last minute. I left work early. I figured I deserved it after such a stressful week.” She sprinkled salt into the pot and then covered it. “Have you been downstairs today to check things out?”
“No. I haven’t been down there since Tuesday.”
“Why don’t you go downstairs and check out the work they’re doing? Make sure they’re doing a good job for me, and give me your opinion.”
“All right, I can do that.”
This way she could find out if he liked what he saw, and if he had concerns or wanted to change anything, she could discuss it with Freddie. Her lips quirked into a smile. She enjoyed the little charade and could hardly contain her excitement about the plan she had set in motion for her father.
He still had no idea the basement would be transformed into an apartment for him, with a full kitchen instead of a kitchenette. She had also coerced him into agreeing he wouldn’t sign an apartment lease without letting her review it first. He grumbled about being in his right mind and fully capable of signing a contract on his own, but he finally agreed.
Randolph was gone for about ten minutes, and when he returned, Julia was chopping vegetables for a salad. “Well?” she prompted.
He nodded his approval. “They’re doing a real good job down there. It’s going to look nice. They have half the sheet rock up already. The Mexican fella knows what he’s doing.”
Julia sighed. “He’s not Mexican. He’s Puerto Rican.”
“Mexican, Puerto Rican, same difference.”
“No, it’s not,” Julia said in a harder tone. “How would you feel if—” She watched her father grab his keys from the key rack. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going out tonight.”
“I thought you and your friends weren’t playing poker tonight because Martin and his wife are out of town.” She couldn’t stop the disappointment that crept into her voice. She had looked forward to spending time with him.
“We’re not. I have a date.” Her father’s face lit up with a devilish grin.
“A date?”
“Yes, a date. You might have forgotten what that is,” Randolph said pointedly. “It’s when a man and a woman—“
“Dad.”
“All right, all right.” Randolph moved to stand across from her at the kitchen island. “I met her at the senior center,” he said, his eyes shining. “Real sweet gal. Her name is Irene. We started out talking on the phone and discovered we have a lot in common. We’ve met several times socially, but this is our first night time date.”
Julia was deflated. Her shoulders sagged a little. She had come home early to relax and spend time with her father, and he was about to waltz out the door to spend time with someone else. How pathetic. Her father had a more interesting Friday night planned than she did.
“Have fun,” she said, pushing aside her own dissatisfaction with the way the evening turned out.
Her father came around to kiss her on the temple. “You going to be all right with those strange men in the house?”
“I’ll be fine. Go enjoy yourself.”
Randolph practically skipped out of the kitchen. “Don’t wait up,” he sang on his way to the front door.
Julia shook her head and turned back to the stove.
At least he’s happy, she mused to herself.
In the few years since her mother’s passing, this was the first time she’d seen her father in such good spirits about a woman. Irene must be something special.
****
Freddie had spent most of the day working in the basement. After dismissing his men, he cleaned up and exited through the basement’s exterior door. He planned to leave until he saw Julia’s car parked in the driveway. He decided to touch base with her before he went home and walked to the front door and rang the doorbell.
When she answered, his eyes drank in the striking image she made. She didn’t look uptight and serious like when she wore her business attire. She still wore her hair pulled back and secured in the professional French roll, but she wore a pair of large gym shorts and a T-shirt with “University of Georgia” across the front.
Her casual clothes evoked the same urge he felt when he first met her. It was the overwhelming desire to protect her.
She looked surprised to see him standing out front. “What are you doing here? I thought all of you had left.”
“I was about to when I saw your car. I figured I’d update you on our progress.”
“Come on in.” She opened the door wide
r. “Walk with me to the kitchen. I have something on the stove.”
Freddie trailed behind her, lowering his gaze to the back and forth motion of her hips, which weren’t hidden well by the oversized shorts. Some women moved so sinuously it seemed effortless, the movement made even more alluring because it was unconscious.
Stepping through the door of the kitchen, the inviting smell of something simmering on the stove greeted his nose. The muted tones of a trumpet spilled from the stereo’s speakers and drifted on the air toward him. The lights were dimmed, and it seemed as if the kitchen embraced him with warm arms once he stepped onto the tile.
Worth Waiting For Page 3