***
Fingers fluttering against the curtain, Marisol noticed the truck parked out front. "Dios!" She remembered to lower her voice as she scowled at the sight beyond the window. Glancing over her shoulder, she acknowledged the incredibly handsome man sprawled in her bed, dead asleep. Had last night been a dream? She still wasn't completely certain Jefferson was real. He'd returned. He'd spoken. Voluntarily. Of feelings.
Her scowl dissolved in a smile. Don't get crazy, Mariboo. It wasn't as though he'd talked of picking out china patterns. Slipping on her tee shirt, she unearthed the pair of running shorts she wore more for the expandable waistband than for actual athletic pursuits. Allowing herself one last admiring glance at Jeff's seriously chiseled body, she crept down the stairs, finger-combing her hair into a less wild version of the bedhead she'd spied in the mirror.
She tiptoed to the hall closet and removed Hector's bat, remembering to step over the creaking spot on the hardwood floor. Silently, she unlocked the front door and slid out to the porch. Mari took a moment to breathe in the heady, early morning scent of flowers and dew before she half-walked, half-ran to the end of the driveway. Pausing to catch her breath, she peeked around the hedge to assess the vehicle parked there. The pickup truck was nearly new, red and shiny. The windshield fogged from the early morning humidity and the heavy breathing of the man she knew she would find snoring in the front seat.
Her brother Manny. Here, in Arlington. Spying on her. Suddenly, her mother's stammered responses made sense. Papi was behind this. Thumping the end of the bat against her palm, Marisol enjoyed the pleasant thwacking sound. What she wouldn't give to see Manny's expression when she bashed in the windshield and woke him up. She enjoyed the vision in her head for several moments before reluctantly setting it aside. If she hurt his truck, Manny would kill her.
It took two more precious minutes to retrace her steps to the side yard where she gathered up a handful of crab apples. Two more minutes before she was lobbing the first pitch at his windshield. Three apples and forty-five seconds later, Manny flew up in the seat, his head— or some other body part hitting the steering wheel as he jolted out of sleep. She winced at the ear-splitting blast of his horn, belatedly remembering it was before seven on a Saturday.
Her brother lumbered from the truck, still half comatose as his feet hit the pavement. "Jeez, Mari— que demonios estas haciendo?"
"What the hell am I doing?" She approached him slowly, bat in hand. "Since I'm armed, I think I'll be the one asking questions. How long have you been tailing me?"
Manny rubbed sleep from his eyes, his overnight growth of whiskers making him appear remarkably similar to a bear awakening too early from hibernation. "Papi's orders," he growled, again, not unlike an angry grizzly. "If you dented my truck-"
"You're lucky I threw apples. You want to see dented? Keep trying to change the subject." She took a step closer, annoyance and amusement fueling her movement. If this was what her sister Caridad had endured over the past two years, Mari had a newfound understanding— and perhaps fear— of the torture her parents could inflict on them. "Maldita sea! How long?"
Manny raised thick fingers to his neck and grimaced as he began massaging an aching spot. "Two days," he admitted. "How the hell do you think I feel? I'm wasting vacation days on this."
"For the love of God, Manuel! What is wrong with them? Will they ever let this rest?" Mari continued to sputter at her brother . . . in fact was only getting warmed up when she saw his expression change. "What now? Don't think you can avoid my wrath-"
"Mierda."
With an eye still on her brother, she pivoted and discovered Jefferson striding toward them, jeans slung low on the most amazing hips she'd ever had her hands on. His hair looked as though he'd bolted from bed and slid down the banister before he was fully awake. Jeff's expression was one of mild curiosity— until he spied the bat in her hand. In a heartbeat, his demeanor changed to one of fierce intent. Mierda was right.
She'd taken only one step toward him before Jefferson had closed the distance between them. His eyes had iced over, a frigid, angry green she'd never seen before. A shiver coursed through her when Mari realized what he was thinking. A large, burly man accosting her at dawn. Not pausing in his forward motion, Jeff brushed past her, jerking her arm to shove her behind him in one liquid movement. The Louisville Slugger clattered to the street. "Who the hell are you?"
Manny's glare matched his. "I could ask you the same, gringo."
Jeff's gaze remained locked on the enemy, his stance battle ready. "Mari— what's going on? Do you know him? Is he bothering you?"
Part of her wanted to see Manny get punched. Marisol read her brother's expression from behind Jeff's shoulder— saw from Manuel's smile he knew exactly what she was thinking. But she also knew her brother could dish it out as well as he took it and she would hate to see one of Jeff's beautiful eyes blackened. With a sigh of exasperation, she relented. "Jeff, this is my overbearing, interfering brother, Manuel." She squeezed his arm to assure him everything was okay. "Manny, this is my . . . friend— Jeff."
The two men sized each other up for several seconds before reluctantly shaking hands. Jeff finally broke the silence. "What brings you here so early?'
Mari snorted. "He's spying on me for our parents."
Manny ignored her outburst. "I've been in town a day or so. I'm leaving shortly," he shot back.
Jeff's gaze drifted to the spot beyond her brother. "That your truck? I saw it here last night . . . late last night."
There was no missing the emphasis in his words. To Mari's surprise, her brother's face reddened. "Yeah, it's mine. Like I said, I'm leaving."
From a well of thoughtfulness she didn't realize she possessed, Marisol relented. "You want coffee before you go? We were just about to make some. I have to pick Hector up at nine."
Manny ran a hand through his already scruffy looking hair. "I don't suppose I could steal a shower, too?"
"That depends. Did you plan to rifle through my bathroom cabinets for contraband?" He winced as her remark hit home. "Because I should probably tidy up first."
Her brother rolled his eyes. "Jeez, Mariboo— just a shower."
Though clearly still confused over exactly what was taking place, Jeff watched the exchange with barely concealed humor. Mari turned to him. "What do you think? He's been spying on me for days. Should I let him in my house or just give him a thermos and kick his ass to the curb?"
"Okay, Mari— get it all out of your system. I deserve it. In my defense, you know how Papi gets when he's worried."
Jeff finally spoke as they made their way back up the driveway. "Since he's your brother, I'd give him a break. Speaking from experience, we do stupid things sometimes— especially when it involves sisters."
Manny nodded. "See— he knows what it's like."
As her two gentlemen visitors settled around the table, Marisol tried not to be nervous in the kitchen. She heard Jeff answering questions about the construction going on at New Beginnings and asking a few of his own. This was too soon— this meeting of family and boyfriend. And in such a ridiculous way. Caught spying. She couldn't imagine what Jefferson was probably thinking. That the Ortega family were a bunch of crazies? That there was something seriously wrong with her? That she couldn't be trusted by her own family?
It was simply too weird. Marisol retrieved cups and plates and started the coffee pot, scowling when the faucet drowned out the discussion. Then the pot started rumbling and she knew she'd have to get back in there ASAP or miss out on the entire conversation. Knowing Manny, he might just blurt out her entire life history— including the awful Nick part. And it was way too soon for the Nick part. A lifetime would probably be too soon for that.
Once the cinnamon rolls were finally in the oven, she carried the coffee pot in, setting it on the table. Suddenly anxious, she wasn't sure who to make eye contact with— Manny to glare him into silence, or Jefferson— to apologize for the disruption to their morning. S
he didn't have to wait long to decide.
"So, your brother tells me he was down here checking up on you. Does this have anything to do with the Phil incident?"
Mari froze. "Phil? That happened nearly a week ago."
"What incident?" Manuel scowled. "Who's Phil?"
"Big Pete filled me on several details you neglected to mention." Accepting a mug, Jeff poured coffee before offering it to Manny who nodded his thanks.
"Why were you talking to Pete?"
"He said it was more serious than you made out." Jeff glanced at her. "And I'd have to agree."
"Pete thinks everything is serious." She couldn't believe what she was hearing— and from Jeff, no less. "He's paranoid, remember?"
"He was logical when we discussed the problem." Jeff kept his gaze on her while explaining the 'problem' to Manuel. "I found him to be highly observant and detail-oriented." His eyes widened. "In fact— in the same conversation, he said he'd been keeping an eye on a mysterious, red truck." His gaze slid to her brother as he sugared his coffee. "That was probably you— spying on your sister."
"Doing a favor for my parents," Manuel corrected, his sigh one of exasperation.
"Exactly when did shelter customer service issues become your business?" Marisol held her temper. "Your job is building the addition— that's it."
"Customer service is complaints about the meatloaf." Jeff's eyes heated. "Lunatic ex-husbands threatening you are my business."
"And mine," her brother added, his tone belligerent. "How desperate is he?"
"Now you're going to meddle at my work, too?" Had everyone gone crazy? She turned on her brother. "Are you taking a leave of absence from your job?" When the oven timer went off mid-lecture, she glared at him, switching to Spanish for a rapid-fire string of insults. Any hope of Jeff believing her to be normal had passed.
"You're burning breakfast, Mariboo."
When she threw up her hands and stalked into the kitchen, she overheard Jeff . . . trying to speak while cracking up with laughter.
"I can figure out 'estupido'. . . but what was the rest of it?"
Peeking around the corner, she saw her brother grin, erasing the sullen, sleep-deprived expression he'd carried since she'd tried to take out his windshield with crabapples.
"Some things, amigo . . . you're better off not knowing."
***
"So— what would you do? Why do you think Annie won't go out with me?"
Jeff glanced up from the set of blueprints. "Seriously? You're asking me for advice on your love life? It took me over a month to convince Marisol to go out with me."
"Yeah, but it's already been another month and you seem to be doing great with her." Hank shrugged, his expression befuddled. "Frankly, we all figured you'd have blown it by now."
He stared hard at his foreman. "You bastards have a pool going, don't you?"
"Damn straight. That should've been the easiest money I ever made."
Hell, Jeff would have wagered against himself, too. Curiosity won out over irritation. "How much?"
Hank averted his eyes. "I had twenty bucks on her dumpin' you after the first date."
Jeff grinned, unable to take offense. He'd earned his reputation. Why it was still working with Mari was a mystery to him, too. The whole concept of a relationship was completely foreign to him. But the longer it lasted, the more right it felt.
"I'm sure Annie likes me. But I can't seem to get her to leave this building." Hank's face wrinkled into a question mark. "She always wants to eat here."
He raised an eyebrow. "You're complaining about a woman who doesn't spend your money frivolously?"
"You know what I mean. How many hours can she volunteer here?" His friend's voice heated. "And her boys are stuck here for all the hours she stays to work. I wanted to take them out to the farm . . . you know— see the horses, throw a ball around. Have a barbecue."
"And?"
He shrugged. "She got all panicky lookin'— like I was asking her to take her clothes off or somethin'. Even her boys were ticked. They really wanted to go."
Jeff slid back his chair. "Why don't you just ask her?"
"Then she'll think I'm being nosy."
Obviously, Hank just wanted to argue. "No offense, but you're starting to sound like a woman."
Hank scratched his head. "I think her ex-husband is a jerk. Tommy and Jason don't say much, but it sounds like he doesn't spend any time with them. Maybe she just isn't into taking another chance."
"You mean— sorta like you were after Gayle?"
Hank did a doubletake. "I never thought of it that way."
Jeff took pity on him, if only to end the awkward conversation. "You want me to ask Mari for you?"
His friend sighed with relief. "Yes— I really like her. And unlike you, Super Stud, I clearly need help."
Jeff was hard-pressed to figure out why everything was going so well with Mari. They were great together. Early on, when he'd been trying to score with her, he'd been thinking only of the physical side. And he'd always known that would be fantastic. What he hadn't counted on was how good— how relaxed everything else was with her. And Hector. Being with them was . . . easy. And that made it different from anything he'd experienced before.
When they made plans, Jeff didn't panic. He didn't waste time wondering whether she would eventually try to corner him. Since meeting Mari, it hadn't crossed his mind that he might be missing something better.
Free time was spent with them. Quiet dinners. Baseball practice. Playing in the park. Every night after Hector was tucked in, he'd spent hours getting to know Marisol. Warm. Intelligent. Funny. Sometimes brutally honest with him. He never had the sense she wouldn't tell him exactly what was on her mind. When she kicked him out of her bed so Hec wouldn't discover him in the morning, Jeff regretted it. Though he respected Mari for insisting, he'd increasingly hated leaving.
She was still curiously protective of Hector— and herself. Jeff was with them all the time, yet . . . not. Though she didn't come out and say it, he sensed Mari didn't want him growing too attached. She didn't want Hec viewing him as . . . permanent. For the most part, he'd been cool with that. Chances were— he wouldn't become a permanent fixture. But lately, the idea that maybe she didn't see them working out— bothered him.
There'd been a time when that notion would've sent Jeff fleeing in the opposite direction. Yet with Marisol, he wanted to know more. Her moods, her interactions with Hector, her thoughts on the shelter . . . her descriptions of her family. Jeff sometimes felt as though he already knew them, though he still didn't know why her brother had been spying on her.
When he'd asked, Mari's expression had taken on the guarded quality he witnessed periodically. She'd been quiet for several moments, as though struggling with an inner turmoil that ran counter to everything he knew about her disposition— before finally confessing she wasn't ready to discuss it.
Her unwillingness to trust him roused his curiosity. And concern. He frowned over the plans he was reviewing, fully aware he wasn't seeing a damn thing. Why would her family send Manny to check up on her? Mari wasn't a teenager. She was twenty-seven. A homeowner. A mother. What were they so afraid of?
Tossing his pencil on the table, Jeff checked his watch. Since she'd been complaining about his 'disappearing act', he'd agreed to meet his mother for lunch. The memory brought a smile to his face. If Mona knew he'd blown off their standing Wednesday night dinner to spend every available minute with a female— the same female— one he'd pursued for a record-breaking five weeks before she'd relented . . . his mom would probably have palpitations.
On the drive to the restaurant, Jeff's thoughts drifted to his parents. Their relationship. He winced over the word. Relationship. If he started thinking of Mari that way, he might panic and do something stupid. Instead, they existed in an easygoing bubble— one that didn't include promises or plans beyond the next few days. No expectations. They didn't speak of the future. Even Marisol seemed more relaxed taking things
a day at a time. It was the perfect non-relationship. Why that was starting to make him uneasy, he wasn't sure.
He spied his mother's Mercedes when he pulled into the lot. A few minutes later, Mona waved from a table in the corner. She stood to hug him. "Jeffie, what on earth have you been doing lately? I haven't seen you since dinner at Jake's house."
He waited until their drink orders were taken. "Now that you're seated, I'll give you the news."
His mom’s eyes widened. "What news?"
"I'm seeing someone."
She raised an eyebrow. "Sweetie, how is that news?"
"The same someone," he emphasized. "You know— like I'm dating only one woman." He sighed over her gasp of surprise. His mother's shocked expression conveyed her thoughts of him as the millennial version of Hugh Hefner. "Aren't you overdoing it? I've dated women before-"
"Not one woman," she interrupted, her eyes sparkling. "Not for an extended period. Jeffie, I'm so proud of you. How long?"
He grinned, suddenly feeling as lighthearted as she appeared to be. "It took me a month to convince her to go out. Now, we've been dating a month."
She peppered him with questions throughout lunch before finally asking the most important one. "Who is she? Anyone we know?"
He sipped his iced tea. "It's Marisol Ortega— from the shelter? I think you've met her. Dad worked with her on the drawings."
His mom's eyes lit with excitement. "I can't believe it actually worked. Your father will be so pleased-"
His glass halfway to the table, Jeff froze. "What do you mean?" When she flushed guiltily, a chill swept over him. What worked? His mind raced over the possibilities. What the hell had Linc done?"
"He hoped working with Mari might lead somewhere. She's such a sweet, beautiful girl. Your father just loves her."
His pulse throttled back from overdrive. For a brief, terrible moment Jeff experienced a sick premonition that he'd been the butt of a joke. That Marisol had somehow been party to it— humoring his parents while having a laugh at his expense. "That's why Dad pulled the disappearing act? So I'd step in and handle the project?"
Chasing Marisol (Blueprint to Love Book 3) Page 14