Bianca narrowed her gaze until her eyes were thin slits.
Jarrod laughed heartily. “I told your mom I’d check on you. Apparently you’re supposed to be going to the grocery store.”
“So why are you here again?”
“My father wanted to come check on your mother. She’s sweet, by the way. I like her.”
“You would.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I bet you’re a mama’s boy, right? Where is your mother, by the way? Does she live here in Boone? Are she and your father still married?”
Jarrod shook his head. “They’ve been divorced since I was eight. She lives on the West Coast with her third, or maybe it’s her fourth, husband. I’m not sure which.”
The comment took her by surprise and she eyed him intently.
He met her stare and smiled. “Mama was the rolling stone in their relationship. We were all happier once they got divorced. Dad raised me and Mom took me on fantastic vacations. She and I are good friends.”
“So you are a mama’s boy.”
He grinned. “She’s my best girl and the only woman who will ever have my heart like that.”
Bianca nodded her understanding. “So why didn’t you tell me your father was so cute?”
He tossed her a look. “Really? He’s my father. Why would I think he’s cute?”
She shrugged, amusement painting her expression.
Jarrod winced. “Ewww! Please do not tell me that you’re interested in my father. He’s old, and well . . . he’s old!”
“He’s not that old.”
“He’s old enough to be your father. That makes him too old for you.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate his good looks.”
Jarrod shook his head. “On that note, I’m leaving. I think I smell bacon.”
Bianca smiled. “I guess I need to finish getting dressed. How long are you staying? Will you and your father still be here?”
“Your dad invited us to join him for breakfast,” Jarrod said, moving toward the door. “Besides, we wouldn’t want to miss your miraculous transformation.”
“Oh, so now you have jokes!”
He laughed heartily.
“By the way,” Bianca called after him.
“Yes,” he said, pausing with his hand on the knob.
“Does your father have a girlfriend?”
Ethan said little when his son returned to the family room and rejoined the conversation. He was still curious about the relationship between his only child and the woman who’d greeted them at the door. Questions furrowed his brow as Jarrod met his probing stare with a wry smile.
“So,” Sharon said, interrupting his thoughts, “will she be joining us?”
Ethan shifted his gaze in the woman’s direction, noting her raised brow. Sharon gave him a warm smile, her own eyes moving back to his son.
Jarrod nodded. “Yes, ma’am. She’s fine. She’s changing and said she’d be right out.”
“I’m so glad you two are so comfortable with each other,” Sharon quipped. “We won’t have to work quite so hard trying to fix the two of you up! Will we, Ethan?”
She winked an eye at her friend.
Ethan smiled, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. His gaze shifted toward his son, who was suddenly blushing profusely. He leaned forward in his seat, clasping his hands together in front of himself. “The old people used to say that if you want to know what a woman will look like when she gets old that you only have to look at her mother. Clearly, there’s hope for her, son.”
Sharon and Miguel both laughed heartily.
Bianca’s voice echoed from the entranceway. “I see the whole family has jokes. Now I know where you get it from,” she said as she moved to Jarrod’s side, her arms crossed over chest. Her gaze was locked with Ethan’s, the two studying each other intently.
Jarrod shook his head. He lifted his hands as if surrendering. “Leave me out of this,” he said.
Ethan blushed as profusely as his son, suddenly choking on the words he’d just spoken. Gone was the disheveled woman who’d opened the door on their arrival. Bianca Torres cleaned up nicely, the woman having captured his full and undivided attention. He felt himself grinning like a Cheshire cat, his lips pulled wide and full, his eyes like two large saucers.
Bianca had slipped into denim leggings that she’d paired with thigh-high black suede boots and a black turtleneck sweater. Her attire fit like a glove, the formfitting garment wrapped like paint around her petite figure. She’d swept her thick, lush curls into a casual updo that complemented her delicate features. Just a hint of blush and lipstick in a warm shade of chocolate adorned her face, accentuating her warm mocha complexion. She was stunning.
“No more cute comments?” Bianca said, her words harboring a hint of challenge. Her eyes were narrowed as her gaze swept over him.
Ethan laughed, his head shaking. “I’m still trying to swallow the foot stuck in my mouth,” he said.
Bianca’s lips pulled into a slight smile, amusement dancing in her eyes.
Her mother interrupted the moment. “Bianca, why don’t you and Jarrod go set the table? Daddy was just waiting for you to come out so he can scramble the eggs.”
Tearing her eyes from Ethan’s, she tossed her mother a look. The matriarch didn’t seem to notice, resuming her conversation about the town’s city council and their decision to execute an agricultural lease for twelve acres of land at Azalea Park. Bianca opened her mouth to comment, but Jarrod gave her a gentle shove toward the dining room, stalling her words.
“Let it go,” Jarrod whispered under his breath. “You like to start a mess with your mother.”
“My mother likes to start a mess with me,” Bianca hissed back. “Why do we need to set the table together?”
“Because our parents are playing matchmaker. They want to fix us up with each other. I’m sure they think this is a great opportunity for us to talk.”
Bianca laughed out loud. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“I don’t kid. I’m very serious. They seem to think you and I would make a wonderful couple.”
Bianca chuckled again. “I guess we’re the only ones who know that they’ve got some seriously bad intel,” she said.
Jarrod blew a low sigh. “I’m starting to think that coming home might not have been a good idea.”
“I told you about secrets coming to bite you in the ass,” she said as she reached for a stack of dishes in her mother’s china cabinet.
Jarrod blew another sigh. Their conversation was interrupted by her father.
“Good,” Miguel said. “You’re setting the table. I’m just about to pull the biscuits out of the oven.”
“Daddy, you need to talk to Mommy,” Bianca said, moving around the dining room table. “Jarrod and I don’t need to be fixed up.”
Miguel laughed. “Figured it out, did you?”
Bianca rolled her eyes skyward. “Please, make her stop.”
Her father shook his head. “Nope. It gives her something to focus on while you’re home. You’ll be gone after the New Year and then it won’t make much difference. If you two remain friends, all well and good. If sparks fly, even better. It’ll make your mother happy.”
“There will be no sparks,” Bianca said emphatically.
Jarrod nodded in agreement. “But we are good friends,” he added. “We’re definitely more like brother and sister though,” he concluded with a nervous chuckle.
Miguel laughed, too. “Well, just wait until Labor Day to tell your mother. She’ll be heartbroken. She was hoping to have you married and pregnant with our first grandbaby by Valentine’s Day.”
Bianca and Jarrod exchanged a look. “I told you,” she said. “My mother is certifiably crazy!”
Minutes later, they were joined by Ethan and Sharon, Bianca’s mother rolling her way in a wheelchair. Despite his offer to push her to her destination, Ethan had been relegated to the other side of the roo
m, the woman adamant that none of them get in her way. Once they were all seated and the food served, the conversation turned to the holiday.
“Ethan, do you and Jarrod have plans for Christmas?” Sharon asked. She looked from one man to the other before taking a bite of her husband’s infamous sausage casserole.
Ethan swallowed the mouthful of food he’d been chewing. He reached for his water glass and took a sip. “We were just going to enjoy a quiet dinner together at home, Sharon. Nothing elaborate.”
Sharon fanned a hand in his direction. “I’ll not have it. You two will have dinner here with us.”
“We wouldn’t want to intrude . . .” Jarrod started.
“Baby, please! Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll have more food than we’ll ever know what to do with. I’m sure your daddy has told you that we have an open-door policy in this house. Everyone’s welcome at any time. In fact, I think you should both plan on helping us trim the tree this weekend. That’s our Saturday project. Bianca’s making baked spaghetti for dinner.”
“I am?” Bianca’s head snapped as she turned to face her mother. “When did I start cooking?”
Sharon ignored her outburst. “It’s my recipe and Bianca is going to execute it. It’ll be a great time!”
Ethan smiled. “Well, thank you. We appreciate both invitations and look forward to it.”
Bianca’s gaze shifted back in his direction. There was a slight smirk on the man’s face as he met her stare. His eyes were dark and intense, something decadent simmering beneath his gaze. The look he gave her was lingering, and she felt a wave of heat waft slowly across her spine. She found herself sliding into the moment when there was an unexpected slam to the side of her leg. The motion was swift and abrupt, and when she realized Jarrod had kicked her under the table, she resisted the urge to cuss out loud. She turned to give her new friend a look, confusion washing over her expression.
Her father’s voice broke through the fog. “Bianca, did you hear me, baby girl? Pass the casserole, please!”
The two men sat at a stop sign at the intersection of Inglewood and Windsor Roads, just minutes from their Asheville Avenue home. Jarrod was berating his father, miffed that he’d played into Mrs. Torres’s delusions of grandeur.
Ethan laughed. “She wants her daughter to meet a nice guy. You’re a nice guy. What else was I supposed to do?”
“You could have not given her the impression that I was interested in being fixed up with her daughter.”
“But you like her daughter.”
“I do like her daughter. We’re friends. But I’m not interested in a love connection with her. She’s not my type.”
Ethan smirked. “She’s beautiful. How can she not be your type?”
Jarrod cut an eye at his father, his jaw tight, his lips pursed into a tight line. “She’s just not,” he muttered.
“So what is your type, son? What turns you on?”
Jarrod shrugged. There was a moment of hesitation before he answered. “I like them blond and blue-eyed,” he finally said, thoughts of his best friend and partner easing into his mind.
He and Stefan Hunter had met his first week of residency at Mt. Sinai. Their attraction had been instantaneous, and he’d been drawn to the other man’s strong Nordic features. Stefan was blond, his hair a messy mass of thick curls, and blue-eyed, their color reminiscent of ocean water. With his warm vanilla complexion and lean muscular frame, it had been love at first sight. Jarrod was suddenly uncomfortable when he looked over to see his father eyeing him intently.
There was a look of surprise on Ethan’s face. “I don’t know why, son, but I never figured you for dating white women.”
Jarrod chuckled nervously, color heating his face. “Me neither,” he muttered.
“Well, are you dating anyone special in New York?” Ethan asked as he turned into the driveway of his home and shut down his car engine. He turned in his seat to face his son.
Jarrod cut his eyes in the man’s direction. “There is someone but . . .” he started, his voice trailing off. He took a deep breath. “It’s nothing serious,” he finally concluded, desperate to change the subject. “I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation.”
Ethan squeezed his son’s shoulder. “Okay, I’ll stop being nosy about your private life,” he said. “Just know that I want you to be happy.”
Jarrod took a deep breath. “I am happy, Dad, which is why I don’t need you and your bingo buddies trying to hook me up.”
Ethan laughed. “Bingo buddies! That’s cute.”
Jarrod finally broke into his own smile. “Isn’t that what you old people do when you retire? Hang out and play bingo?”
“I’ve never played bingo a day in my life. And I’m not that old, thank you!”
Jarrod shrugged. “Whatever you say. Just know that Bianca and I are friends, but we will never be anything more. Besides, you had her interest more than I did.”
“Me?” Ethan’s eyes widened. “Did she say something?”
“Yeah.” Jarrod laughed. “She said you were cute and she wanted to know if you had a girlfriend.”
Something like astonishment washed over Ethan’s expression. His eyes skated back and forth as he replayed every conversation between them over in his head. Jarrod interrupted his thoughts.
“Yeah, that was how I felt about it. Kind of makes your skin crawl. She’s my age, for heaven’s sake!”
“Oh, yeah,” Ethan said, still lost in thought. “She’s definitely too young.”
Jarrod’s deep chortle was gut deep, his head shaking from side to side. “Y’all are too funny,” he said. “You’re just as bad as she was.”
“What?” Ethan said, his eyes shifting in Jarrod’s direction. “What’d we do?”
Jarrod motioned to exit the car. “You’ll figure it out,” he said. “I’m going inside. It’s cold out here.”
Ethan nodded, thoughts of Bianca still fluttering in his head.
“And, Dad?”
“Yes, son?”
“A word of warning. Bianca Torres is way out of your league! She will eat you alive and spit you out before you can blink! You might want to tread cautiously!”
Chapter 3
Bianca blew a heavy sigh as she studied the lengthy list of groceries her mother had requested. Shopping that should only have taken some ten minutes was already taking an hour longer than necessary. The neighborhood market should have been sufficient, but her mother had insisted she shop at Earthfare, the organic supermarket on the other side of town. Her parents, who used to eat anything and everything, were suddenly on a health food kick, insisting that everything they consumed be GMO and preservative free. It was enough to have Bianca pulling her hair out as she stood in the aisle trying to figure out which brand of flaxseed would garner the least amount of complaints from the family matriarch. She was just about to give up when a familiar voice sounded beside her.
“Bianca?” Ethan Christmas’s deep baritone voice resounded like warm honey, smooth and seductive. “What a surprise!”
She turned, a smile creeping across her face. “Ethan, imagine running into you again.”
He smiled back, the bend to his lips pulling at her attention. He had a beautiful mouth, full lips like lush pillows that begged to be kissed.
“I frequent their juice bar. I just dropped in to get a shot of wheatgrass and one of their fruit smoothies.”
Bianca grimaced. “Sounds like a waste of a shot to me. Wheatgrass?”
“Don’t knock it until you try it. It’s good for you.”
Her smile widened. “Is it like some organic aphrodisiac?”
Ethan laughed as a faint blush teased his cheeks. “I don’t know about all that, but it’s a good energy booster.”
Amused that she could make him blush so easily, Bianca laughed with him. But she was hardly convinced about the wheatgrass and she said so.
“Two ounces of wheatgrass juice has the nutritional equivalent of five pounds of the best raw orga
nic vegetable,” Ethan said with a nod. “It has twice the amount of vitamin A as carrots and is higher in Vitamin C than oranges! The stuff contains the full spectrum of B vitamins, as well as calcium, phosphorus, magnesium, sodium, and potassium. It’s also a complete source of protein and essential amino acids,” he concluded, sounding like a walking advertisement for some health institute.
Bianca stared, her eyes blinking rapidly. She shook her head. “I’ll stick to shots of tequila. That’s more my speed,” she said, turning back to the display of dry goods.
Ethan suddenly felt awkward, his son’s comments about Bianca being out of his league ringing in his thoughts. But his eyes danced the length of her body, admiring the round of her backside. Her buttocks were high and tight, sitting like two lush melons in her denim leggings. There was no denying that the beautiful woman had him sweating, and he was suddenly self-conscious, feeling out of sorts with the deviant thoughts that had crossed his mind.
He suddenly needed a swift retreat, unable to explain why he was feeling like a twelve-year-old trying to get the attention of the popular girl. He couldn’t remember the last time any woman had him feeling so intimidated. But Bianca Torres had him feeling some kind of way.
“Well,” he said, “it was good to see you again.”
She turned back toward him, two bags of flaxseed in her hands.
“I believe your mother buys that brand,” he said, pointing at the bag in her left hand, and with another endearing smile, he turned and disappeared down the aisle.
Bianca blew another heavy sigh, a warm breath blowing past her lips. Dropping the recommended product into her grocery cart she pushed it in the direction he’d headed, catching a glimpse of him as he moved toward the registers.
There was something about Ethan Christmas that teased her sensibilities. The man was blessed with good looks, a banging body, and a maturity that was lacking in most of the men who usually wined and dined her. She wished she could will him back to her side and she was annoyed with herself for not thinking to invite him to sit down for a cup of coffee or juice and one of the store’s famed vegan cookies. She would have even been willing to try that nasty-sounding wheatgrass for a few more minutes of his attention.
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