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  Frowning down at the documents in her hand, she asked, “What is this?”

  “Nothing.” He had no intention of letting her know he was working on a business plan to expand Mendoza Construction. In between jobs and late at night, he handwrote the narrative and scribbled calculations.

  “It looks like a P&L statement. And this looks like the beginning of an executive summary.” She lifted her heart-shaped face to look at him.

  His anger diminished somewhat. He couldn’t ever remember having these kinds of intense feelings for a woman before. It was a struggle to remain calm and not appear as shaken as he felt. One minute he was upset by her insensitive comment, and the next he wanted to crush her to him and finish what they started last week.

  “It’s nothing to concern yourself with. It’s just something I’m working on.” His arm remained outstretched.

  “Are you putting together a business plan? I could look at it for you.”

  “No, thanks.” He didn’t want or need her help, and certainly not if she was looking down her cute little nose at him. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from any of those important things that take so much of your time.”

  Julia winced. She deserved that. “Freddie,” she stated earnestly, “I evaluate businesses for a living. I look at the experience of their founding members, their financials, everything, and I determine if they’re worth investing in. If you’re trying to get a loan, I can make sure your business plan is so good you’ll have banks throwing money at you.”

  Freddie lowered his hand and hooked his thumb in his jeans. He had to admit her offer was tempting. “How much?”

  “Nothing. Give me the rest of your plan and I’ll do an evaluation.”

  He hesitated. He wanted the help, but the last thing he wanted was this woman taking a look at his plans and finding he didn’t measure up. For some reason, her opinion was important to him.

  “Listen, Julia—”

  “Freddie, wouldn’t you rather have an honest evaluation and make sure your plan is the best it could be?”

  Time ticked by as he pondered her question. She continued to stand there, looking beautiful and expectant at the same time. With reluctance, he took the sheets she held and reshuffled them into the proper order with his.

  He handed her the plan. “That’s everything. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do in exchange? I could offer you a discount on the work downstairs.”

  “No, it’s not necessary. You and your men have been working hard. Besides, this won’t take me long. Give me a few days and I’ll give you my recommendations.”

  Freddie should be paying more attention to what she was saying, but he was riveted by the natural beauty of her brown skin in profile as she scanned the sheets. She wore very little makeup, and despite the prim and proper business suit, pearls and matching earrings, he couldn’t help but recollect last week’s kiss.

  Her actions hadn’t been those of a controlled woman. She’d given herself over to the passion of the kiss, and despite his anger, he longed to sample that passion again. His eyes lowered to the upward curve of her full lips, which had been the cornerstone of each fantasy he’d had since Friday night.

  Freddie cleared his throat to dispel the unsettling thoughts from resurfacing so he wouldn’t embarrass himself. “Do you need anything else from me?”

  She seemed to have a hard time tearing her eyes away from the business plan. She was in full throttle business mode.

  “No, nothing. I’ll get back to you soon.”

  “Thanks,” he said with a curt nod.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Julia stood at the kitchen island for a moment, her mind already coming up with recommendations as she scanned the business plan. Considering he’d written it with pencil on notepad paper, it was thorough. His handwriting was neat and easy to read.

  Suddenly, she had a thought. Maybe there was a way he could pay her back.

  Without addressing what prompted her to do it, she half ran to the front door to catch him before he left.

  “Freddie!” she called out. He had already opened the truck door.

  He looked at her. He still didn’t smile. She missed it. “Did you mean what you said? You know, about going dancing?”

  He frowned, the expression on his face a clear indication he didn’t remember what she was referring to. He was going to make her practically invite herself.

  She found it easier to face the partners at the firm. “You said I could come dancing with you on Friday.” She took an anxious breath and held it.

  He nodded. “Yeah, I meant it.”

  “That’s how you can pay me back for reviewing your business plan. I would like to come. I haven’t been dancing in a long time.” She’d never been salsa dancing ever, but how hard could it be?

  The smile returned, and it was as if the sun slipped from beneath the clouds on an overcast day. He had the most charming smile. “I’d love to have you come. I’ll pick you up at eleven o’clock on Friday night?”

  She nodded.

  Julia remained at the door looking after his retreating truck until it was out of sight.

  ****

  The impulsive act worried her all night. Friday was four nights away, and she was already stressing about it. What would she wear? She hadn’t been on a date in so long. Well, it wasn’t a date, but she still wanted to look attractive. She wasn’t even sure she could pull it off any longer. What had she been thinking? Salsa dancing? Really?

  Later she sat up in bed, the phone cradled between her cheek and shoulder, listening to the rings on the other end. Gnawing at her lower lip, she glanced at the bedside clock and then said a silent prayer her younger sister, Simone, was not yet asleep and would pick up the phone.

  When Simone answered, she managed to keep the flood of relief that overtook her body from showing up in her voice. She didn’t launch into the conversation about Freddie right away. She gradually eased into it.

  “Boy, I can’t believe you’re going salsa dancing.” Simone let out a long whistle. “And with a puertoriqueño at that.”

  Julia rolled her eyes. Simone liked to sprinkle Spanish into her conversations because she’d taken an adult Spanish class at the neighborhood library. She actually thought it made her bilingual, and her exaggerated pronunciation was comical.

  Julia brought a spoonful of chocolate ice cream to her mouth and pulled it out clean before speaking. “He’s younger than me.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Simone made a noise that sounded like a growl.

  “What was that supposed to be?”

  “A cougar.” Simone repeated the sound.

  Julia sighed. “Would you be serious for a minute? I swear, you become more and more like your father every day.”

  Simone giggled. “He’s your father, too.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “Okay, I’ll be serious. How much younger is he?”

  “He’s thirty-two.”

  “What? Someone call child protective services. This woman is a predator. No, better yet, call the cops and protect this poor boy. He’s jail bait, Julia. Leave him alone—”

  “No need to continue,” Julia cut in. “I get the message.”

  “You sure? Cause I have plenty more where those came from.”

  “Your promise to be serious lasted exactly one minute. However, point made.” There was silence on the line.

  “What’s going on? He’s only a few years younger than you. You’re practically the same age. Is there something else bothering you?”

  “Nothing. It’s silly. I was thinking . . . maybe I shouldn’t even go.”

  This time when Simone spoke, her voice was softer. “It’s not nothing, because you called me. You’re not thinking about him, are you?”

  Julia swallowed. “Of course not,” she said in a barely audible whisper. She swirled her spoon in the melting ice cream. “That was so long ago.”

  “Exactly.” She heard her sister sigh. “You’re paralyzed. He has you so afraid of
getting hurt again that when a decent man pays you any attention—someone you’re actually attracted to—you get scared. You’re letting him win. You know that, don’t you?” It was disheartening to hear her sister repeat her father’s words.

  Julia rested the back of her head against the headboard. “Don’t you think I know that, Simone? It’s driving me crazy because I see how ridiculous I’m behaving but I’m still helpless to do anything about it. I just want to go out Friday night and have fun.”

  “Then do that!” Simone exclaimed. “I’m not saying he’s the man of your dreams, but go out and have a good time with him. Don’t cancel, Julia. You work hard, you put up with Dad’s antics, you watch my kids when I need a break before I strangle them, and now you need to do something for yourself. You know that’s what Momma would say if she was alive.”

  A lump rose in Julia’s throat. Simone was right. Her mother would patiently listen and then advise her to go enjoy herself. She couldn’t think of a single reason why she shouldn’t go.

  “He hasn’t asked you to marry him,” Simone teased gently. “You’re going dancing.”

  Julia smiled. Her sister’s words put the situation into perspective. “All right, Little Bit, you’re making sense.”

  Simone emitted an exaggerated groan. “I’m an adult woman doling out advice and I still can’t get you to stop calling me that.”

  “You’ll never outgrow it.” Julia set her bed tray on the night stand and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Okay, I’m going dancing on Friday night. Thanks for listening.”

  “No problem. And Julia?”

  “Yes, Little Bit.”

  “You’re going dancing, so wear something sexy, chica. And please, please, do something cute with your hair.”

  Before Julia could reply, she heard the dial tone.

  ****

  Julia stood before the floor length mirror in her bedroom, staring at her reflection and trying to ignore the swarm of butterflies in the middle of her stomach. The nervous anticipation had been building all night. She knew it was because she not only looked forward to her evening out, but she wanted Freddie to like what he saw.

  To make sure he did, she’d added bronzer to her cheeks and plied her lashes with extra mascara to make sure they stood out. Rather than the earth toned lipstick she normally wore, she opted for something shimmering in the wine family.

  She’d stood in front of the mirror for much longer than necessary, turning this way and that, critically assessing her appearance from every angle before being satisfied. She’d worried more about her hair than anything else. She washed and deep conditioned it and finally got it to where she felt it was presentable. She shook her head a couple of times to help the strands fall naturally into place and smiled tentatively at her reflection just as the doorbell rang.

  Her father was out on a date with Irene, so she couldn’t use him to delay her entrance.

  “Too late to change your mind now,” she said to her reflection.

  Julia didn’t know what to expect when she opened the door, but what she didn’t expect was to find a well-scrubbed Freddie looking absolutely drop-dead gorgeous out of his normal construction clothes. She didn’t think he could get any finer, but he had.

  He wore his black, shoulder-length hair loose, and she noticed it was still damp around his forehead, as if he’d hopped out of the shower and came straight to her house. Soap and the combined scent of citrus and sandalwood in his aftershave floated upward into her nostrils and caused her body to tingle at the manly fragrance.

  The white, button-down short-sleeved shirt contrasted against his tawny skin. Beneath the thin cotton, his tantalizing chest muscles rippled when he moved. With his dark slacks and shiny black shoes, he looked like a different man, and she wondered if she had the wherewithal to make it through the night without rubbing up against him.

  His long, lean fingers held a single red rose, which he extended to her.

  “Buenas noches,” he said softly, smiling a sexy smile that must have broken down the inhibitions of legions of women since the day he hit puberty. The lapse into Spanish was a pleasant surprise, creating more tingling from the top of her head to the toes of high-heeled sandaled feet.

  “Buenas noches,” Julia repeated, lifting the flower from his hand. She felt like she had nineteen years ago when she went on her first date at sixteen: shy, nervous, anxious, and ready for anything.

  ****

  When Julia locked the front door, Freddie extended the crook of his arm. Any reason to touch her, because she looked so touchable tonight. When she hooked her arm through his and allowed her soft fingers to reach up and brush his biceps, his chest muscles contracted. He didn’t know what possessed him to invite her out dancing when he should have been distancing himself from her, but he was glad he did.

  She looked stunning tonight. Without the air of aloofness and the cool confidence she usually exhibited, she appeared softer, more feminine, and more approachable. The neckline of her pretty, feminine top dipped low enough to tease him with a hint of cleavage. The A-line skirt swirled around her knees and permitted him a good view of slender, toned calves in sandals.

  Her dark hair was styled so it fell across her brow at a teasing angle—inviting him to reach up and brush the strands back from her face so they wouldn’t block her vision. The auburn highlights he’d noticed the first night were more noticeable now and made him want to delve his fingers into the shiny depths of her hair.

  As he helped her into the newly cleaned truck, Freddie couldn’t resist leaning down while she was turned away and getting a whiff of her feminine scent. He got a double whammy. The perfume stirred his senses, and the smell of her hair made his gut contract with the desire to drag her close and bury his face in the fresh, vanilla-scented tresses.

  She smiled at him as he closed the passenger side door. The wine-colored lipstick made her full lips look even fuller and inviting. More than anything he wanted to keep her smiling. He wanted to keep her safe and protect her against any further emotional harm. No woman of his—whoa.

  Where had that come from?

  Freddie walked around the front of the truck toward the driver’s side. The thought came out of nowhere. He was thinking of her as his. At that moment, Freddie realized just how much trouble he was in.

  Freddie took Julia to a club located off Buford Highway, a street known as International Corridor because of the large number of Spanish and Asian restaurants and businesses lining the stretch of road. The parking lot was already packed, and when they arrived at the front door, a large man in a suit ushered them in.

  The DJ called out in Spanish to the throng of men and women on the dance floor gyrating in time to the up-tempo beats of the loud music.

  Freddie leaned down toward her. The gentle pressure of his fingers against the base of her spine triggered tiny shivers along her hips. “They play a variety of music here: reggaeton, salsa, calypso, merengue.”

  He stayed by her side, guiding her through the throng of bodies to the bar and somehow making a spot for them to squeeze in.

  “Hola, amigo!” The bartender extended a hand to Freddie.

  Freddie greeted him as well, and they carried on a conversation in rapid Spanish for awhile before the bartender turned to look at her.

  “Quién es?” he asked.

  “Se llama Julia, mi mujer,” Freddie answered. Julia cast a questioning glance at him. “He asked me who you were. I told him your name.”

  “I understood when you told him my name, but what does . . . moo-hair mean?”

  “Mujer,” Freddie corrected, smiling down at her. “It means friend.”

  Julia swallowed to moisten her parched throat. If she could bottle and sell that sexy grin of his, she could make a fortune fighting depression. “I thought amigo meant friend.”

  The bartender set a glass of white wine and a bottle of beer in front of Freddie. She was pleased he’d remembered what she liked.

  “Enjoy.” Without hi
m leaning close to her, she couldn’t hear him over the noise, but she could read his lips. He clinked his bottle against her glass.

  Julia took a sip of the fruity wine. Freddie motioned behind her, where the woman sitting on the stool had gotten down and walked away. Seizing the opportunity, she climbed up onto the empty seat.

  For a few minutes they watched the dancers. After awhile, she could feel Freddie’s hot gaze on her. Turning to face him, she raised a brow.

  He leaned toward her. “You’re not going to sit there all night, are you?” he asked. His breath tickled the delicate skin of her ear. Her fingers tightened on the stem of the glass.