Worth Waiting For Read online

  His earlier fatigue melted away with the unexpectedly domestic scene, replaced by comfort and relaxation.

  Almost as quickly as he gave himself over to the comforting thoughts, he allowed another, disquieting one to enter. Was Julia expecting someone tonight? He knew she was home alone because her father’s car wasn’t in the driveway.

  “So how is everything going?” Julia asked. “My father was pleased when he went down there earlier. I’m sorry I haven’t been more involved. Work has been keeping me extra busy lately.”

  “Everything’s going well,” Freddie answered. Thoughts of another man enjoying this intimate setting with her jangled his nerves.

  Since the night she assisted him with the truck, they’d had a few more conversations about her ideas and changes to the basement. Although she always appeared busy, she was never rude. She did come off as cool, maybe even a little aloof at times, but he couldn’t deny his attraction to her. Because of her steely composure, he doubted if anything could frazzle her. She was always perfectly put together in tailored business suits and not a single hair out of place, wrapped up tight and neat like a Christmas present, unable to be opened until permission granted. He often wondered what lay inside the pretty package.

  She was different tonight, though. She wasn’t wearing one of her power suits or carrying a briefcase. Tonight she looked like any other woman in any other household in the country. The normalcy of it gnawed at his gut.

  “You’re still on schedule?” Julia asked.

  She had no clue how badly he wanted to end the conversation and bolt out of there before he did something stupid, like try to plant a kiss on those luscious-looking lips. His attraction to her had blossomed and morphed into a fixation. His teeth ached to tug on her full bottom lip.

  “Yes. I’ll send the guys back out early Monday morning and stop by at the end of the day to check their progress.”

  “Good. I can’t wait to see my Dad’s expression when I hand him the keys to his apartment.”

  An impish grin spread over her face, a smile of pure, unselfish pleasure. Those brown eyes of hers lit up. He couldn’t look away, even though the power of her smile left him shaking in his boots.

  “Well, I won’t bother you anymore. I just wanted to give you an update.” As if it were standard operating procedure to offer evening updates to all his clients. He turned to go.

  “Freddie.” Her voice beckoned to him, halting his hasty retreat.

  When he faced her, she looked a bit flustered, as if she’d spoken without thinking first. “Yes?”

  She smoothed her hairline, though there wasn’t a hair out of place.

  “Actually, I was wondering if you had dinner plans. I planned to have dinner with my father, but he surprised me and had a date. So, I have all this food . . .”

  He should say no. He’d been here before and knew how this worked. At some point the thought would cross her mind that she was out of his league. He should walk out the door right now, but the sensible part of his brain was overshadowed by the part that was elated she didn’t have plans with a man tonight. The sensible part of his brain wasn’t functioning. It was seduced by the dimmed lights, soft music, and the suddenly approachable Julia Newman.

  “No,” he answered, knowing full well that was the wrong answer. “I don’t have plans, and I’m starving. I’d love to join you for dinner.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Julia didn’t know what prompted her to issue the dinner invitation to Freddie. She’d held her breath as she waited for his response, wondering whether or not he would turn her down. He could have dinner plans with his sister—or some other woman. She waited, pretending it was the most natural thing in the world for a woman to ask the contractor employed to work on her basement to join her for dinner. Time stood still and stretched on for what seemed an eternity, though she knew it had only taken seconds for him to give her an answer.

  Julia set the table in front of the bay window, knowing she treaded on dangerous ground. She wanted company tonight—his company. The smart thing to do would be to turn up the lights and turn off the music, but she didn’t want to.

  “Can I help you with anything?” he asked.

  He came to stand next to her, big and brawny in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. Despite his rough exterior, he exuded a gentleness and warmth that intrigued her.

  She glanced up at him. “If you like, you can help yourself to something to drink. There’s beer and juice in the fridge.”

  When he walked away, she closed her eyes briefly. Her earlier bravado escaped her. She was back to feeling like a nervous teenager again.

  Once she finished setting the table, Freddie helped Julia bring the food over: homemade soup to start, salad, pasta, strips of grilled chicken, and a creamy alfredo sauce with fresh grated parmesan in it.

  “Smells delicious,” Freddie said with a grin. He rubbed his hands together in exaggerated anticipation.

  Julia laughed. “I hope it tastes as good as it smells. It’s not Puerto Rican cuisine, and there are no tost-tost—”

  “Tostones.”

  “Right. But I think you’ll still like it.”

  Once they sat at the table, the earlier awkwardness slipped away. They conversed amicably and paid more attention to the conversation than they did to the tasty food. Over an hour passed before they were well into the main course.

  “So, how often do you get back to Puerto Rico?” Julia asked between bites of chicken and pasta.

  “Every year or two,” Freddie answered. “Most of my family still lives there, and it’s nice to escape every now and again to recharge. I tend to go around the holidays, when business is slow and I can spend a couple of weeks.”

  “How long have you lived in the states?”

  He leaned forward on his forearms. His skin was the inviting color of fresh ginger. His biceps bulged against the dark t-shirt and Julia averted her eyes before he caught her staring.

  He frowned in deep thought. “Let’s see . . . we moved here when I was . . . twelve, so this year will be twenty years since we moved from Puerto Rico.”

  Julia did the easy math in her head. He was three years younger than her. “So your entire family moved?”

  “No. Me, my parents, and my younger brother and sister. There are eight years between me and my next oldest sibling. The older ones stayed behind.”

  “How many older brothers and sisters do you have?”

  Freddie smiled. “There are ten of us.”

  Julia’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding!”

  He shook his head. “I wish. Sometimes I felt I had seven parents instead of only two because my older brothers and sisters were so bossy. They treated us—the younger ones—like we were their kids.”

  “They were looking out for you,” Julia said with a faint smile. She’d been that kind of older sibling growing up.

  “Is that what it was? It was suffocating sometimes.” Freddie grimaced. “My father passed away about five years ago, and my mother moved back to Puerto Rico to live with one of my sisters. She never wanted to move here, anyway. She followed my father, who was tired of living on an island and wanted a change.” He took a sip of beer. “What about you? How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

  Julia piled more salad on her plate as she spoke. “There are five of us, although growing up at times it felt like there were ten.” Freddie nodded his head in understanding. “I’m the second oldest. I have an older brother. My younger sister, Simone, lives here in Atlanta. She and I are very close. The others are scattered around the country. My mom passed away a few years ago. She had cancer.”

  “So did my father.”

  Julia shook her head. “With so many millions of dollars per year being spent on research, you’d think there would be a cure by now. It affects the lives of millions of people every year and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  Freddie nodded his agreement. “How did your Dad take it?” he asked. “My mom was crushed when
my father died. It was like a piece of her died, too.”

  “Same.”

  Julia felt a bit choked. The chemotherapy ravaged her mother’s body toward the end. Her passing created a hole in the family. She had been a gentle, cheerful woman who always lent a sympathetic ear to any problems her family approached her with.

  “When my father died, I wondered if my mother would want to go with him. Some people love so deeply that when their partner dies, they die not long afterward. They can’t live without their soul mate. I think that’s what happened to Johnny Cash when June Carter Cash died, you know? It’s hard when you’ve been with someone so long and love them so much, and then you have to let them go.” Julia remained silent. She didn’t want to encourage a conversation about love. To her, love was elusive. Few people ever found it, and the ones who did didn’t know how to preserve it. “Don’t you think?” Freddie asked, watching her closely.

  Julia carefully set her fork in her plate. “I don’t think you want to hear my thoughts on that subject.”

  He leaned back in his chair, his chocolate eyes focused on her face. “Maybe I do.”

  Julia rested her elbow on the table and placed her chin on her knuckles. She raised her left brow. “Do you really want to know what I think? I think love is for Lifetime movies, romance novels, and fairy tales. Our parents were lucky, Freddie. They were fortunate enough to find people who they enjoyed spending their time with and who appreciated them in return. The truth is, most relationships are one-sided and people spend their time stumbling through life chasing a dream—a soul mate, a happily ever after, or whatever—when they could be doing something much more productive.”

  He stared at her in silence, and she stared right back. “Did I hit a nerve?”

  “No. You wanted to know what I thought, and I told you.” Julia rose from the chair. “Excuse me.”

  She took her plate and fork with her. Food remained on her plate, but she no longer had an appetite. She should have never ventured down that road, but his comments made her hackles rise. She hated the words soul mate. They were just words people tossed around to convince themselves—and the other person—to stay the course in a relationship, even when there was a dead end in sight.

  She heard Freddie’s chair scrape back. He cleared his throat. “Look, whoever the guy is who hurt you—”

  Julia allowed her plate and silverware to fall with a crash into the sink. She swung to face him. “Don’t. Don’t attempt to speak about something you don’t know anything about.”

  They’d been having a pleasant evening, and then he’d gone and spoiled it with his talk about love and Johnny Cash not wanting to live without June. He would only make it worse by trying to understand her personal situation, because there was nothing to understand. She didn’t need psychoanalysis from an amateur shrink who didn’t even know her at all.

  His brow furrowed and a muscle twitched in his left cheek. “Maybe I overstepped my bounds—”

  “You did.”

  “But, your ideas about love and relationships are sad for a woman your age.”

  She didn’t want his pity. “Don’t feel sorry for me. You should feel sorry for all the sappy women out there chasing the dream.”

  He shook his head. “You’re so jaded. For the record, not every man is no-good.”

  “Oh, really?” Julia said slowly, placing a hand on her hip. “Let me guess, you’re one of the good ones?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am,” Freddie said deliberately between clenched teeth. Her question obviously upset him and he struggled to maintain his control.

  Julia took a few steps toward him, both hands on her hips. She glared up at him. “Let me enlighten you, Freddie. If you’re one of the good ones, you don’t have much company. Statistics suggest 60 percent of men cheat on their spouses. You want to know my opinion? I think the numbers are greater because those only happen to be the ones who’ve admitted it.”

  “How could someone who had a good example of a happy and successful marriage be so cynical?”

  “Because I deal with cold, hard facts. Numbers don’t lie. They’re absolute. Our parents were the exception to the rule—not the norm.”

  “It cuts both ways, Julia. Women can land a blow just as lethal as any man.”

  She saw for one fleeting second an indescribable emotion flash in his brown eyes, reflecting whatever relationship pain he’d suffered through. An incident in his past had affected him, and she felt a subtle connection manifest between them. Like her, he knew what it was like to hurt. Unlike her, he seemed to have recovered enough to be optimistic.

  Some of Julia’s cocky assurance drained away. She lowered her hands from her hips. “I won’t argue with you on that point. We both know there are no-good women out there, and we’ll leave it at that.”

  He nodded once. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “Thank you for dinner.”

  Julia glanced at his plate on the table, which still had food on it. “Gosh, I’m sorry. I guess it didn’t end quite the way you would have expected.”

  “Not exactly, but I have a full stomach, so I’m good.” He flashed a grin, and in that instant, the last of her anger dissipated.

  The strains of an instrumental piece settled over the room, a soothing contrast to their disquieting dispute moments before. The air crackled between them. Tension mounted, and she froze in place.

  Freddie lowered his lids and zeroed in on her mouth. “When was the last time you were kissed, Julia?”

  The sexy way he pronounced her name caught her attention again. Julia remained immobilized, aware of what was about to take place and unable and unwilling to stop it. His words were more of an invitation than a question. She could hardly breathe. Her heart hammered mercilessly in her chest, anticipation running rampant through her body.

  “It’s been awhile,” she said softly, her voice trembling. She’d sealed her fate.

  In slow motion, his head lowered to hers and closed the distance between them, and he gently kissed her lips, as if testing the waters. The kiss was unhurried, exploratory. He savored her mouth and its fullness. She kissed him back. She couldn’t help it. When he felt her yield to him, he reached up and wrapped a lightly calloused hand around the back of her neck.

  His mouth pressed harder against hers, deepening the kiss. She trembled, opening her mouth wider to accommodate the entrance of his soft, wet tongue.

  Freddie pressed her backward, trapping her between the sink and his hard body. There was no option to get away—not that she wanted to. His right arm slipped around her waist and Julia melted into him, moaning softly as his tongue continued to probe her mouth.

  Something inside her shifted, opened up to the pleasure he offered. Awash in sensations that drowned out all logical behavior, Julia clung to his neck, pressing her body against his hard length to savor every firm inch of him. She didn’t want the kiss to end. She was engulfed by pleasure which had slept for so long she’d forgotten what it felt like.

  It was more than that. She’d never felt this type of intensity before. She’d never felt as if she were submerged beneath a whirlpool of emotion. His lips stroked across hers in such a way, it was as if he knew her and everything secret she’d tried to hide. She felt invigorated and more alive than she had in months—years, even.

  When he drew back, she whimpered like a needy pup, shamelessly pressing her body against his. She wanted—needed this closeness and intimacy he offered. In an instant, his hands slid to her bare thighs and lifted her off the floor as if she weighed little more than a feather.

  He placed her onto the cool marble of the island and cupped her face, his touch gentle as if he handled a delicate flower. She did feel delicate, staring into his dark eyes, feeling the harsh breath of his own labored breathing.

  With a groan he crushed her to him, kissing her with more passion and fervor than before. He tugged her lower lip, drawing a whimper from her throat at the pressure of the pleasure-pain. He quieted her with the stroke of hi
s tongue across the sensitive flesh before moving his lips to travel across her cheek and down to her jaw line. Her head fell back, offering her neck to the tender passion of his mouth.

  Of their own volition, her hands reached up to his hair. She licked the side of his neck, and he groaned something incoherent as the rubber band holding his ponytail snapped. She slid her fingers through the glorious ebony curls and let them glide over her fingers like water.

  His hands, rough from years of manual labor, slid behind her knees and pulled her closer to him. Julia wrapped her legs around him, sealing their bodies tightly together. One hand slipped under her t-shirt. The touch was like a brand against the skin of her back. His hand eased up toward her bra as his mouth covered hers again.