I slung my leg back over his, snuggling as close to him as possible. "Yeah. I guess it's time to warn you."
"You're starting to make me worry." He squeezed my kneecap and I let out a scream.
"Don't worry, they'll love you. Hopefully the feeling will be mutual." I slapped my palms on my thighs. "My family is wonderful. But kinda like acquiring a taste for scotch, they take some getting used to ... and can be somewhat overwhelming."
"Like you?" He kissed the tip of my nose.
I giggled, then ran my fingers through his hair. "I like playing with your waves."
He shot me a funny look, then tugged my ponytail loose, completely ransacking my hair. I pulled my brush from my purse and slapped it into his palm. "Here. Let's see if you can fix what you just destroyed. I feel like a mangy poodle."
He brushed my hair smooth, then swooped it off my shoulders, securing it back into a fluffy ponytail.
"Wow ... you do have the touch. As good as any hairdresser, I might add." I took his hand, inspecting its perfect proportions. "These fingers are very talented. You'll be a great surgeon someday."
"More than that, I hope." He tweaked my chin, then stared out the window.
"Okay. On to my family history." Nudging his arm, I drew a dramatic breath. "Teresa is ten. Tony is seventeen and graduating this year. Angelina is twenty-eight. She's the financial manager of a big company in Syracuse where she and her husband live. Her husband's name is David. He's a Fifth Avenue type of guy ... and was standoffish until my family broke him in." I chuckled. "Angelina doesn't let him get away with anything, either. He's an investment broker."
His gaze strayed out the window again, and I tugged his chin, recapturing his attention. "You're supposed to be learning about my family."
"I'm listening. Just relaxing." He ran a palm up and down my thigh. "High finances, huh? Any kids?"
"Not yet."
"So who's the fifth Delarosa?"
"My brother Ritchie ... the oldest ... is very much married and working on a family with Tricia. They live in Ohio, so we rarely get to see them. But we get a lot of phone calls and postcards."
"You must have nice holiday gatherings." He drew back, watching with enthusiasm.
"Oh, we do ... well, we did. We always had a houseful. My cousin took Ritchie's room when he left. My aunt and uncle split, so Jerold came to live with us. So there were always five of us sharing three bedrooms. But now Jerold's not around either cuz he's traveling with his band."
"What band is that?"
"Chasing Dinero." I smirked. "Angelina's bright idea, and it caught on. You probably never heard of them."
"Played at the Century last year." He grinned.
"Oh my God. You were there?" How impressive was that? Why hadn't fate brought us together sooner?
"I was." He nodded, took my hand and analyzed my fingers, then pressed it on his thigh.
"We have so much in common." Popped out of my mouth before I could stop the veneration. I twisted the silver rose ring I always wore on my right ring finger.
"You've got such delicate fingers. It's hard to think of you wrestling guys twice your size to the ground. Cuffing them." I thought he sounded protective. "Let me see your ring." He snatched my hand from my lap. "I've noticed you wear it all the time. Just partial to it? Or is there a story behind it." He ran a fingertip over the rose in full bloom, then examined the amethyst buds on either side. "It's very pretty. Unusual."
I sighed. Blinking away tears pooling in my eyes, I angled my face toward the window. "I almost wasn't born. My mother had to stay in bed for the last four months of pregnancy. Something to do with blood pressure and proteins."
"Preeclampsia?"
"Yes. That's it. They strongly advised her to abort. She was that close to ..."
"Oh, I'm sorry." Indigo drew me close, stroked my hair. "At least you're here and your mom is fine. She's is, right?"
"Yup. She's fine. And my dad was so scared, and so happy we were both okay, that every year on my birthday I got a cake and my mom got pink roses – a symbol for joy. When I turned sixteen, he gave me this ring."
"That's a beautiful story, Jewel."
"That's when I got this." I leaned forward, yanking the collar of my knit shirt off one shoulder.
"Awesome ink." I felt a tingle as his fingers ran over my rose tattoo. "Mi Rosa Mi Joya?"
"My mother's name is Maria Rosa, and I guess I was his joy. So ..."
"So ... you're not only beautiful, you're sentimental." He tugged me close.
With my head on his shoulder, I snuggled beside him for the remainder of the ride. We didn't talk much after that. We didn't have to.
THE DELAROSA CLAN
By the time we pulled into the Poughkeepsie train station, I had that morning after hangover headache from the long ride and sugar high.
"I'm ready for a nap." I stood in the aisle and stretched.
Indigo's knees cracked when he stood. "Come on, old man." I chuckled and grabbed his hand. "Lean on me." I drew his arm around my shoulder.
My dad didn't meet us at the station as planned, so I texted Tony, telling him we'd just as soon walk. I needed to clear my head.
"We'll hike, okay? It's just a few blocks," I said casually to Indigo whose head rotated every which way like a drifter would do when he blew into town after being gone for months. "I need the exercise anyway. Have to get into shape for the Police Agility Test."
"From my point of view," he gave me an intentional once-over with mischievous eyes, "everything looks perfect to me. Although, without giving you a physical, I can't say for sure."
My hand flew to my mouth to keep my bubble gum from ejecting with a burst of laughter. I swatted his arm as if he were Pete. I may have appeared playful, but inside I shivered at the thought of Indigo's touch, remembering how hands felt on me, and that he'd almost been halfway there, on top, anyway.
Imagining women lying half-naked on his exam table, my hand tightened around his. Professions like that had to be hard on any relationship, regardless of the physical and emotional shape of any spouse.
Then the thought of him specializing in pediatrics brought sudden relief. Had he been an OB/GYN, I don't think I could have taken it. The thought of him anywhere near another woman's private body parts, professional setting or not, would have taunted me to tears. Women ogling him, coming on to him ... Stop it Jewel!
I'd seen an erotic flick once, where this woman had multiple orgasms on the exam table during a routine internal. Thrusting her hips, she'd thrown her arms around the hot doctor's neck, pulled him close and went animal on his mouth. I wondered how significant others of either sex handled it. How many doctors fell in love with nurses, anyway? With patients?
After my reverie I took his hand, squeezing as if the pressure would keep him at my side forever.
"I haven't been up here in a long time. One of my friends went to Marist. I used to meet him up here. We'd shoot hoops with a bunch of other guys." Gazing, Indigo seemed to be catching his bearings. "In a park, over in that direction." He motioned with the hand I hadn't captured.
"I practically grew up in that park!"
"Small world, a cliché, but true. Always expect the unexpected."
Unexpected? What exactly did he mean by that comment?
"So you hung out in Poughkeepsie. Nice. I don't have to give you a guided tour of the city." Still, I pointed to the bridge spanning the Hudson. "Have you seen the bridge when it's decorated for the holiday season? It's beautiful."
"Have seen it firsthand." He angled his face toward the sky, his hair ruffling with the breeze. He seemed to be drinking in the day, maybe feeling as good as I felt.
He unlocked our hands, and slipped his arm around my waist as we walked. Bodies touching, I rested my head on his shoulder.
"The air smells a lot sweeter up here," I noted, inhaling deeply.
"See those mountains in the distance? I used to bike there with friends," Indigo said, his voice pensive.
"
The Marist guy?"
"Yup. One of them. Sometimes we'd hike near Vassar."
"No way. So did we. I wonder why we never ran into each other."
"Better late than never." He tugged me in, pressed his lips on mine, but only for a split second.
"Hey. There's our bakery," I said, pointing to the glass front building with wedding cakes and other delights decorating the window.
"You worked there?"
"Yeah. Till I finished high school. I liked to help out ... and organize."
"Are you a little neat freak?"
"Hardly. But I was great at keeping track of stock and ordering. We had some good times, even at work. I remember it as if it were yesterday. I hated the idea of waste, and since throwing food away wasn't an option, we'd give away fresh baked leftovers to neighbors and our best customers – and brought far too many home." I patted my tummy. "I'd ride with my dad sometimes when he made deliveries. Sometimes we'd deliver dozens of boxes of delicious plump donuts someone had ordered and never picked up to a local shelter."
His face went all soft, and he hugged me. "The first time I saw you, I knew there was something I liked about you."
I held my breath, waiting for him to say something so romantic, I'd have to faint on the spot. "And what was that?" I stared up at the sky, then shifted my wistful gaze to him, wondering if I could stand it if he started getting all sappy with me in broad daylight.
"Donuts!" He tickled me.
I squealed and pulled away from his fingers that dug mercilessly into my ribcage.
"You're not going anywhere." He laughed, capturing me with a hug. "I know all the right spots."
"Yes you do." I giggled, wrenched free and started running.
"I've got all the right moves, too." I laughed, but before I could move a muscle, he swung me in front of him, wrapped me in his arms, and walked me backward, very deliberately, one step at a time. And there it was yet again, that stunning look on his face. Sleepy and sexy. Grandma would have called it bedroom eyes.
"I like your moves." As if dancing in reverse, I locked my arms around his neck and let him lead.
"I know you do." He brought us nose to nose.
"Show me some more." My pursed lips reached for his.
"Later ..." At the same time he swept me into the air, his lips came down on mine.
I was spinning, losing track of where I was, who I was, locked in the wonderland of his arms, when the sound of a honking horn startled me back to reality.
"What the hell?" I said, twisting my head toward the origin of the irritating noise.
Indigo set me down, and we both spun. His arm remained snug around my waist.
I stared at my little brother's primed Camaro, pulled smack against the curb. The passenger window was rolled down, and he hunkered between the steering wheel and a blonde girl who sat in the bucket seat beside him. She had that deer in the headlights expression.
"Tony," I yelled, hunching down to see inside the car, "what the hell are you doing? You want to give me a heart attack?"
He chuckled. "Come on, hop in." His coal black hair was pulled severely to the nape of his neck. His green eyes were smiling and filled with mischief. He was simply dashing. He so reminded me of Antonio Banderas.
The Camaro's back seat was not only small, but it was loaded with boxes of car parts and blankets. Tony threw an arm over the seat and started shoving things to the side.
"Don't bother. I'm not riding with junk."
"It's not junk. It's part of a delivery I have to make."
"Doesn't look bakery to me."
"I work for a car dealer after school." He grinned up at me. So young. So adorable.
Tony started sizing up Indigo, kind of like brothers had a habit of doing. I noticed the blonde's eyes had been roaming over both of us during the entire conversation. She didn't even smile.
"Antonio," I said, "This is Jimmy."
Indigo reached into the car and they clasped hands. I heard their muffled voices overlap. "Hey, man." Then Indigo moved back to my side.
In Spanish, I called out to Tony, "What are you doing with a crabby twelve year old? You better be careful you don't get arrested, jerk."
He made a thumbs up behind the girl's head, then shot me the A-ok with his thumb and forefinger, returning my Spanish. "She's almost your age, sista." His smile was so broad, I could almost count his straight white teeth.
"No way," I said, the side of my mouth curling dubiously. "You better check her I.D."
He nudged her arm. "Shannon, that's my sister, Jewelia. Tell her how old you are."
"I'm twenty years old," she replied in a flat voice.
"Oh my God," I whispered to Indigo. "With a ten year old brain ... if that. Leave it to my brother."
Indigo smiled and shook his head. "Gotta love youth. The world has an entirely different face."
"Tony, you're blocking traffic. Get home. We'll walk," I ordered.
The Camaro roared off, with Tony's arm hanging out his window, aimed for the sky, flipping me the bird.
"The Delarosas are certainly lively." Indigo chuckled.
"I wish I could say the same about his girlfriend." I shook my head.
"Yeah, she was kinda solemn. Cute though."
"So you like blondes better than brunettes? Is that what you're telling me?"
He twirled me around, rested both hands on my shoulders and said, "That's a loaded question. If I say brunette and you go blonde next week, I'll be in trouble, right?"
"Maybe." I stared up at him with my tough broad expression, nodding defensively.
He pinched my nose. "See, a guy just can't win." He slung an arm around my waist and squeezed so tight I lost my breath. Then he whispered in my ear. "I'd like you if you had a purple crew cut." After kissing my forehead, he said, "Your brother seems like a nice kid. Good taste runs in the family."
"Very funny." I jabbed his ribcage with my elbow, then unwrapped his arm and grabbed his hand, pulling him up the walkway. "Here we are. This is my parents' two-story which doesn't seem like the largest colonial anymore. Wow. Some of the older homes have been renovated, or demolished, holy shit." I must have appeared in shock because his brows scrunched together.
"How long since you've been home?"
"Not that long. These new colonials are gorgeous, and must have sprung up overnight, or under my nose. Guess I never noticed." Then I felt silly. The houses I drooled over were probably nothing compared to the ones in his family's neighborhood.
He surprised me by saying, "Nice house. I like the area. Seems comfortable, friendly ..."
"Jewel!" Teresa stood at the doorway, the first to greet us. She flung open the door, holding it open for us to walk in ahead of her. Then she threw her arms around me like I was a birthday gift she'd longed for and it was finally delivered.
"Tessie. I missed you, squirt." I kissed the top of her jasmine scented hair and gave her a huge squeeze. "You smell as delish as whatever Mom's cooking." The house was still. "Where is everybody?"
We stood in the entry foyer, which held the scent of fresh paint. My eyes swept the room to the right, the living room with the picture window where our Christmas tree always stood. On the rear wall was the bay window with the padded seat where I'd done most of my daydreaming and writing.
Teresa looked up at me with brown eyes almost too large for her pixie face. "Daddy's in the garage working on the Jeep. That's why he didn't pick you up." Her stare shifted to Indigo.
"Teresa, say hi to Jimmy. Or Indigo, as his friends call him."
"Indian." Her voice was flat, but her dark eyes drank in every inch of the guy who had to be more than fifteen years older than her.
"Chill out, squirt," I said with affection.
Indigo looked about to roll with laughter.
"Indian madder, a plant used for dyeing in the Orient." Her response was deliberate. "Blue, Jewelia. Indigo blue. That's where he got his name."
"Perceptive," he said, bending at the waist, sticking out a
hand. "Nice to meet you, Teresa."
"Art class." She gave him an outgoing grin while gripping his hand, surprising me, because I'd known her to be shy around guys. My baby sis was sure growing up fast.
"What grade are you in?" Taking his hand back, Indigo grinned.
"Just finishing fourth."
"Jewel!" My mother called from the kitchen doorway. Her palms slid over her apron. After untying it, she brought her hands to her mouth and stared, in her native tongue gasping, "Oh, my." Her eyes were stuck on Indigo as she addressed both of us. "How was the train ride? I'm sorry we couldn't be there to meet you, but I've been in the kitchen since seven – and Dad's out in the garage."
"I take it his back is better?" I hugged her, then planted a kiss on her cheek.
"He's a fast healer. Speaking of which, you're on your way to becoming a doctor?" She stared at Indigo, unable to suppress her pleasure at the mere thought her daughter was dating a professional. I could see in her eyes; she was already planning the wedding. "How wonderful."
"Yes, I am." Indigo strode to her side and held out a hand. "Hola. Es bien en conocer te la Sra. Delarosa." [Hello. It's good to meet you, Mrs. Delarosa.] Then he leaned in and planted a quick kiss on her cheek.
"Y tu tambien. Tu hablas español?" [And you too. You speak Spanish?]
"¿Hace no todo el mundo?" [Doesn't everyone?] He winked at me.
She brought a hand to her heart and turned to me. "He smells like fresh air, with eyes like the sky. Why have you been hiding him? He's gorgeous ... and multilingual!"
I thought Indigo would fall over with astonishment. A guy like him had to be used to chicks fawning all over him – or maybe the Delarosa women just came on stronger than most.
"I heard Tessie saying something about Indigo? An unusual name," my mother commented, the subtle accent she placed on each word making her even more alluring. "But who are we to talk, right? Jewelia Rosa de la Corte Delarosa." She chuckled.
Head Over Wheels (Spicy Young Romance) Page 20