Excitement built up inside Julia. Her stomach muscles quivered in anticipation. Kisses weren’t enough. She wanted more. She was starving for affection, starving for intimacy, starving for Frederico Mendoza.
One bra snap came undone.
Yes!
Her throat tightened at the thought that his big calloused palms would soon touch her sensitive flesh. His fingers moved to pop the other hook.
He stopped.
She heard the same sound he did. The front door had opened. There was the unmistakable jingling of keys.
No, it couldn’t be.
Her father had returned home!
CHAPTER SIX
They froze, staring into each other’s eyes.
Freddie stepped back, his chest heaving, and his rugged face filled with tension. His dark hair lay loose around his shoulders.
Julia dropped onto her feet. She reached to adjust her clothes with shaking fingers, but then she realized they weren’t in disarray. Despite the intensity of what had just taken place, she was still fully dressed. But she felt naked, exposed. She found the courage to look up at him as the sound of her father’s whistling came down the hall toward them.
Freddie ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth the rumpled curls and bring himself back under control. He moved to the back of the island, and she knew why. He wanted to hide the manifestation of what their kissing and touching had done to his body.
“Hey, Sugar—” Randolph halted at the entrance to the kitchen when he saw Freddie.
“Hello, Mr. Newman.” How did he manage to sound so calm?
“Hi, Dad!”
Her voice sounded brittle and breathless. Her observant father would immediately recognize something was amiss. She could only imagine what they looked like—two adults acting like guilty children caught with their hands elbow deep in the cookie jar.
“Well . . . hello . . . Freddie.” Her father’s eyes moved from one to the other. “You’re here kinda late.”
Julia jumped in immediately with an explanation. “He joined me for dinner since you couldn’t make it.”
“Mhmm.”
Julia wondered if it was too much to ask to have the kitchen tile separate and allow her to fall into a hole to the basement below. Anything would be better than having to experience her father’s embarrassing antics, which were assuredly on their way.
“And I was just leaving,” Freddie added.
Their gazes connected. She wanted to say something to him, but what could she say with her father standing right there?
“That’s right,” Julia said in agreement. “We just finished dinner.”
Her skin tingled all over. The press of his mouth on her neck was still fresh in her mind, and she knew for certain it wouldn’t disappear any time soon.
“Thank you for dinner, Julia,” Freddie said. He moved toward the door. She couldn’t look at him right then. It would be impossible to do so and keep the longing from her face at the same time. Instead she watched her father, who watched Freddie with interest. “Good night, Mr. Newman. I’ll see you Monday when I do my inspection at the end of the day.”
After the front door closed behind Freddie, Randolph looked at Julia. “Mhmm . . .”
“What do you mean, mhmm?” Julia asked, knowing she shouldn’t have asked.
“Mhmm, something’s going on between you and that Mexican fella.”
“Dad, he’s not—”
“I mean Puerto Rican fella.”
“Nothing’s going on. You have an overactive imagination.” She wouldn’t talk to her father about what had transpired between her and Freddie. Time to change the subject. “How was your date?”
“My date was fine. We had to cut it short because Irene has an early morning tomorrow. How was yours?”
“I didn’t have a date,” Julia said in a firm tone.
“Hard to tell, with the dim lights and soft music playing . . . and what was he doing here at this hour? He’s never stayed this late before.”
“I told you, I invited him to dinner when you bailed on me.”
“Mhmm.”
“You know what, I’ve had enough of that. Go to your room.”
Randolph wagged a finger at his daughter. “I may be blind, but I can see just fine with my glasses on.” He emphasized the statement by adjusting the frames on his nose.
“Good night.”
Grumbling to himself Randolph left the kitchen.
Julia shook her head in delayed amusement. He’s so frustrating.
She stacked her dish and silverware in the dishwasher and looked over at the table. She stood, motionless, staring at Freddie’s abandoned beer bottle. She drew an uneven breath and ran the tip of her tongue across her lower lip. She could still taste him intermingled with the sharp taste of the beer. His lips had been firm, yet soft.
Even his warm touch still lingered on her skin where his big hands had spanned her waist and caressed her lower back. If her father hadn’t arrived, how far would she have let Freddie go? Farther than any other man had gotten in over a year, that’s for certain.
She touched her fingers to her still throbbing mouth. It was just a kiss, Julia. It felt like so much more, though. It felt like an explosion of the senses, rocking her normally well-ordered world. A mind-numbing, soul-searing kiss.
She glanced down at the broken rubber band on the white tile floor. She blushed at the recollection of how she’d stripped it from his hair so her eager fingers could run through his soft ebony locks.
She shook her head and heaved a heavy sigh. She’d made a mistake tonight. It wasn’t smart to get involved with someone you did business with. She hadn’t been thinking. She got caught up in the excitement of it, but she should have stopped him. The woman controlled the pace in an intimate situation. Wasn’t that what her parents had repeatedly told her and her sisters from the time they were adolescents? Now it would be awkward to have to face him on Monday because she hadn’t exhibited the willpower necessary to control the situation.
Julia got the rest of the dishes and finished packing the dishwasher. She picked up the beer bottle and the torn rubber band. Next time she would—no, there wouldn’t be a next time.
She dumped the items in the trash with a resolute thrust, turned off the music, and walked down the hallway to her bedroom.
****
Freddie slammed his closed fist against the truck’s dashboard and muttered a curse. He sped along Highway 20 heading west. Distracted by his anger, he paid little attention to the speed limit.
He lost his head back there and there was no one to blame but the guy in the cabin of his truck. He’d been the one to make the move and he shouldn’t have done it. Not once had he ever crossed the line, even when a woman made it clear she was open to his attentions. He might do some light flirting, but he never made a move on a client. It wasn’t smart. It was bad for business, and it created awkwardness in the business relationship.
The need to comfort her had overwhelmed him. He hated knowing she had given up on love. He’d wanted to show her not all men were dogs, and he’d—well, if he were honest, he simply hadn’t been able to help himself. Her lips were so inviting.
“That’s no excuse,” he said aloud.
He would have to apologize. That would be the first thing on his to-do list if he saw her on Monday.
The truck slowed to a standstill at a traffic light after he turned off at the exit that would take him home. She tasted and felt so good, though. Soft and sweet. He could have held onto her forever. She had smelled fresh and clean, too, like she’d stepped out of the shower only minutes before. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Thinking about her in the shower had a painful effect on his body.
A car horn blared behind him. Freddie looked up at the vehicle in the rearview mirror. He wanted to give the other driver the finger, but he was in the wrong. He sat at a green traffic light fantasizing about a woman who probably right at the same moment regretted her actions way mor
e than he did.
Freddie hit the accelerator and ran his fingers through his loose hair in agitation, but doing so only served to remind him of the bold way she’d torn free the rubber band to run her fingers through his hair.
Monday he would apologize.
He had two days to practice looking sincere when he apologized for actions his body didn’t have the least bit of regret about.
****
Monday afternoon Julia returned home with knots in her stomach. Normally she would be at the office longer, but she told herself there was no point avoiding the conversation she needed to have. She wasn’t one to run from problems. She faced them head-on, and she would do the same with the indiscretion that took place Friday night.
Her father would be out so this was a good time to have a conversation with Freddie. As she pulled up in the driveway, his dark gray truck pulled in behind her silver Mercedes. The timing couldn’t have been better if she’d planned it.
Standing next to her car door, Julia let her eyes drink in his tall, brawny frame as he approached. He wore a plaid, short-sleeve button-down shirt and faded blue jeans. Just like in my fantasy. In his hand was the notepad he used to take notes about the progress on the job. The tool pouch on his right hip was filled with a hammer, screwdriver, and other tools. She was certain a sexier man had never walked the earth.
Schooling her features into a cool mask, Julia ignored how her heartbeat skipped when he came to a stop in front of her. Her gaze flicked momentarily to his sensual lips, which had wreaked so much havoc on her senses Friday night.
“You’re home early.” The warm timbre of his voice brushed over her and warmed her body. “We should talk about the other night.”
“Yes, we should,” Julia agreed with a nod. “Come on inside.”
When they entered the kitchen, normally a neutral part of the house, a perceptible current of tension developed between them. Julia laid her briefcase on top of the island and turned to face Freddie.
“Before you say anything,” he began, “let me apologize for the other night. What happened shouldn’t have taken place, and I regret it.”
Julia thought it odd that even though he apologized, he didn’t look a bit contrite. She smoothed her clammy palms down her straight black skirt. “Well, we were both in the wrong. There was wine, beer, music, and we just lost our heads.” She shrugged.
“Exactly.” Freddie nodded. He lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. The compact muscles of his arm flexed enticingly. Julia held her breath, fighting back the memory of rubbing her palm across those same muscles. “I pride myself on being a professional at all times, and it was a gross lapse in judgment. Believe me, it won’t happen again.” He smiled.
His smile captivated her, and Julia forced a laugh to camouflage her sharp intake of breath. “Well, I think we both understand it was an unusual event. I’m so glad it’s over and we’re both clear it was a silly mistake. We can behave like two adults and not let it affect our business relationship.” She smoothed her hand across her neat French roll.
He trained his eye on the movement. “Do you ever let your hair down?” he asked out of the blue.
“What?” Her fingers froze behind her ear.
“Do you ever let your hair down and have fun?” His dark brown eyes ran down the length of her black suit, flesh-toned hose, and black pumps. He gave her the look of pity again, like he had Friday night, and she didn’t like it one bit.
“Of course I have fun,” Julia snapped. “That’s a silly question. In fact, I’m scheduled to—”
“You schedule your fun?” His eyebrows rose.
“I–well, I’m so busy,” Julia sputtered, “I have to make an effort to schedule certain activities into my week. It’s not as bad as you make it sound.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s not!” Julia clenched her fist. She hated being on the defensive.
“Tell me the last thing you did just for fun. Name one thing in the past month.”
Julia’s gaze found the table as she rummaged through her brain. Seconds ticked by.
“I’m ready whenever you are,” he prodded.
“Give me a minute!” She frowned at him.
He fell silent.
“There was . . .”
“Yes?”
She shot him an annoyed look. “You’re not very nice. Your charming smile is nothing but a disguise to a heartless soul.”
His eyes twinkled. “You think my smile is charming?”
Julia rolled her eyes. “Oh, for Pete’s sake, don’t take it as a compliment. It’s supposed to be an insult.”
Freddie shoved his hand into his pocket, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll take it any way I like,” he said.
It was an innocent statement, but the moment it left his lips, she felt the shift, as they both became aware of each other. He clearly hadn’t meant for there to be any innuendo behind it, but her mind seized on the words and repeated them: I’ll take it any way I like. I’ll take it any way I like.
His voice finally filled the awkward silence stretched between them. “If you can’t think of a single thing you’ve done in the past month, then you clearly need more fun in your life.”
“I’ve done some fun things. I just can’t think of them right now.”
He raised a brow in disbelief. He held up his hand and then started ticking off his fingers. “In the last month, I went salsa dancing—which I do every Friday. If you like to dance, you should come check it out, but you’d have to take your hair down. You’d stand out like a sore thumb. I went fishing, I took my nieces and nephews to Chuck E. Cheese, I—”
“I drove down to St. Simons Island with two of my girlfriends for the weekend. It wasn’t within the last month, but it was fun.” Did she hear him correctly? Had he invited her to go dancing?
“How long ago was it?”
She felt she was on the witness stand being interrogated by a particularly surly prosecutor. “Two, three months ago,” she hedged.
He shook his head. She wouldn’t dare tell him she took her laptop, despite her friends’ insistence she leave work at home. She also couldn’t tell him she spent half her time on her laptop and phone, even foregoing one of the sight-seeing tours she’d prepaid for because she was so engrossed in the deal she was trying to close. The associates under her had been making such a mess of it she’d had to get involved.
Few people understood her life was fulfilling in other ways than theirs. Her job gave her great pleasure. Not frivolous activities like dancing and fishing. Fishing. An absolute time waster if she ever heard of one. Sit there all day and hope fish bite your bait, and then you throw them back in the water. How silly. There was nothing more fun than watching a company she recommended investing in not only turn a profit, but do so handsomely.
“Well, excuse me if I don’t have enough fun in my life—according to your standards—but I’m a busy woman doing very important things.”
“Such as?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Julia said with a dismissive wave of her hand and turned away. Almost as quickly, she turned toward him again. All the color had drained from his face. “I didn’t mean…”
“Of course you didn’t.”
She hadn’t meant to insult him. Again. She wished she could go back in time two minutes and intercept the flippant remark.
Her cutting statement shouldn’t bother him, but it felt like a knife had been swiped across his chest. He hadn’t expected that from her. With those three words she’d destroyed the tentative truce they’d re-established.
When would he get it through his head? Women like Julia Newman didn’t date or respect common laborers. They looked for men on their same level who drove Mercedes and Range Rovers and strutted around in expensive suits and Italian leather shoes. They did not date men driving gray pickup trucks and wearing dusty boots.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said between tight lips.
Instead of inspecting his workers’
progress tonight, he would inspect it tomorrow. He scraped up his notepad and turned to exit the kitchen. Loose sheets of paper slipped out and fluttered to the floor.
Cursing, he bent to pick up the scattered pages. Before he could grab them all, Julia picked up two of them close to her.
“I’ll take those.” Freddie reached for the papers, but she took a step back out of his reach.
Worth Waiting For Page 5