Chasing Marisol (Blueprint to Love Book 3) (3 page)

Sharon tsked with disappointment. "Well, that's a damn shame. If my baby Latrice didn't already have herself a man— I'd sure as hell be arm-wrestling you for him. That boy has definitely got son-in-law potential— even if he is a little pale."

Her cheeks still warm, Mari rose from the table. Anything to get away from Sharon's knowing cackle. "I think I'll check on Hector. He's probably off the school bus by now."

***

"Mari?"

"Yes, love?"

"Do you like that man? The one who keeps coming to see you?"

Marisol glanced in the rearview mirror, discovering Hector's earnest brown eyes staring back. "What man?"

Hector smiled. "The one Mama Sharon talks about. She said he was hot and it made you laugh and then your face got red."

Her face heated again— under the scrutiny of a wily five year old. Hector had been grilling her for a week— ever since he'd heard Sharon pestering her about Jeff. "Mama Sharon was teasing. The man visits the shelter because his company is building the addition."

"Cool! Can I help? I like digging. I could help, Mari." Hector leaned forward in his booster seat. "Can I meet him? I could tell him about how good I dig."

"We'll see, carino." She smiled at his excitement. "He usually comes to the shelter while you’re at school." 

"Is he hot? Is that why your face is red? Are you hot?"

Dios mio! Did nothing escape his attention? "No, sweetheart. He's just a man. His name is Jeff." A persuasive man. He'd asked her to dinner eight days in a row. And damned if she wasn't weakening toward him. Of all the men she could possibly be attracted to— why did it have to be Jefferson Traynor?

He was a player— just like Nick. A shudder of apprehension trailed down her spine. Nick— first charming . . . then persistent. Then when she'd finally weakened - she'd thrown away all the rules. And it had been the worst mistake of her life. She'd fallen for him— for his illusion— of a loving, helpful man who would stick by her forever. Seven months later— he'd finally shown his true colors. Oh— there had been plenty of signs along the way, but by then it had been too late. Mari had been in love. Why look for signs of trouble when everything feels so good?

But charming had twisted into manipulative and persistent had morphed to controlling. She'd refused to acknowledge any of the warning signs until the day he'd used his fists on her. On that final day, her blackened eye and bruised jaw finally acknowledged what her brain had known all along. And she'd walked away.

Mari had been lucky. She'd filed a restraining order and Nick had given up quietly when she demanded he never contact her again. She knew from experience that wasn't always the case. Heck— Annie was living that very nightmare now. And her ex was proving to be stubborn.

Why was she so willing to chance the same mistake again? Jefferson Traynor wasn't serious— about anything. He'd basically said as much when he asked her out. 'Keep it fun' were his words. He wasn't into commitment. He'd likely never been forced to ask a woman out— and certainly not more than once. The thought made her smile. Soon enough he'd grow bored with the challenge she represented and move on. Guys like him were never alone for long.  

"Mama? Can we have macaroni for dinner?"

Mari was relieved to release the bad memories and focus on something lighter. Mac and cheese was Hector's favorite. "Sure, love. It's such a pretty night— maybe we can eat on the porch."

Ten minutes later they were home. In the driveway, she paused to admire the forsythia blooming in the front yard of her bungalow. Her planter boxes were starting to fill in. Soon, the colorful petunias would spill over the sides, creating a riot of pink and purple that would greet them all summer. She nodded approvingly, acknowledging the love and sweat she'd poured into her home.

She'd come a long way. From the pain and humiliation she'd experienced two years earlier, she'd clawed her way back. It had taken a long time to admit that what happened with Nick wasn't her fault. For too long she'd blamed herself— that
she especially
— should have recognized the signs of an abuser. With lots of prodding from Sharon and the other women at New Beginnings, Mari could eventually admit she was not infallible. No woman was. Once she'd finally forgiven herself, she'd thrown herself back into her work. Now, it was finally reaching fruition.

Her dream of the battered women's unit would finally be realized. During that same re-building time, she'd saved every cent for the down payment on the tiny bungalow. It too, was finally hers. And in six months time— she would call Hector her son.

Her life was good. Amazingly good. She sighed as she parked near the garage. Why would she risk ruining that for a man? Even one as appealing as Jefferson Traynor.

***

"So— what do you ladies say to the idea of stealing this crawl space?" Nearly a month later, Jeff surveyed the room. They were making remarkable progress, despite the women's desire for reaching consensus on the smallest items. An hour ago, he'd thought they would never move beyond the carpet pattern choices for the waiting room. The thought of talking colors and patterns with five women was daunting. But they'd surprised him— managing to come to agreement on the carpet in only thirty-seven minutes. Pattern only, of course. The color was still up for debate.

Soon he would be forced to concede defeat. Whether he liked it or not, Jeff was going to have to drag his father back into the process— if only to speed along the mind-numbing process of organizing these women into selecting an endless list of colors, patterns, tile— the list went on and on. Linc would be able to charm them into making decisions faster.  

Jeff had finally acknowledged over the past week that he desperately needed to get back to work— his
own
work. Projects were beginning to stack up in estimating. As a result, Jake and Harry were not pleased. He'd devoted the better part of a month thinking about New Beginnings. Well— to be honest, he'd spent a helluva lot of that time thinking about Marisol. Her eyes. That  smile. Her melodic voice tortured his dreams. He loved her soft, husky accent. He'd noticed it became more pronounced when she argued with him over suggested changes. Since then, he'd done his best to challenge her every chance he got. Of course, thinking about that sexy accent made him fantasize about how she'd sound when he finally managed to steer her into his bed.

Like there was any chance of
that
happening. Mari might be into him— but it was solely because he would make her project happen. The woman possessed a single-mindedness that both frustrated him and forced Jeff to grudgingly admire her. Every time he managed to get close to her— an invisible wall would go up. He'd see it in her eyes. They would be in the middle of a conversation— or more typically— an argument over their design differences— and it would happen. She would morph from animated and enthusiastic to guarded. The shields would go up and the banter was over. Sometimes, he swore it was fear he read in her eyes. As though she'd somehow broken an unspoken rule— as though Mari only allowed herself to behave a certain way.

Jeff had spent the past month coming up with excuses to spend time at the shelter— to spend time with
her
. And she remained completely clueless. No— Mari was too smart for that, he admitted. She was focused solely on New Beginnings. If there was even a flicker of personal interest in him, she wasn't showing her cards.

When he hadn't been thinking about Mari, the remainder of his time had been spent re-drawing several aspects of the project he felt could be better utilized. In the same amount of space— Jeff was able to gain much needed square footage for the antiquated kitchen. Coming up with the extra dollars to afford quality kitchen equipment was a different story. He'd researched lower cost materials so the shelter wouldn't have to sacrifice quality for the cost savings. But he still couldn't shave enough to get the kitchen upgrade into her existing budget.

During this time, Jeff had defended himself to his business partners. His cousin Harry was ticked at him because he'd been late with his project billings. And when it came to money— Specialty's CFO accepted no excuses. His brother Jake was still pissed because he'd missed a project meeting with two subcontractors Specialty wanted to utilize. Jake hadn't appreciated being pulled in at the last minute. But Jeff had been in the middle of a site survey with Big Pete. His brother should try telling Rambo he was needed elsewhere. Instead, Big Pete hadn't allowed him to leave until he'd walked the existing shelter with the giant and then toured the area where the addition would be laid out. That had lead to concerns about parking for staffers since the new design would steal nearly half of the existing parking lot. And there were Pete's concerns about the affordability of the twenty-foot high, military-grade razor-wire fence he wanted installed around the perimeter. That lengthy conversation came after talking Pete out of a gun turret and thirty yard minefield he'd wanted to lay out.

Surveying the room, Jeff sighed. The women had devolved into two separate camps of opinion— over a damned six foot crawl space. His thoughts snapped back to attention when Sharon regained control of the room.

As it quieted down, Sharon nodded. "I say let's do it." She shifted in her chair seeking out Marisol, who, he noted, had chosen the seat farthest from him. Nothing like making a solid impression on the woman of his dreams. "What do you think, Sugar?"

Her cheeks stained pink but her eyes remained wary. Mari had become hyper aware of Sharon's less than subtle efforts to push them together. He'd sensed rather quickly the older woman liked to stir up trouble for her own amusement— and after nearly a month of fruitless pursuit, Jeff wasn't above using her skills in his quest to catch Marisol.

"I think most of these decisions are taking too long. We should allow Mr. Traynor to do his job. He’s the expert. That’s why we selected Specialty. Without an architect on board, we need to rely on Jeff's recommendations."

Although Mari’s backhanded compliment was likely borne of frustration with the pace of the selection process— Jeff was pleased anyway. At this point, he'd lost track of how many times he'd asked her out. Each time she graciously declined. A polite 'no, thank you'. He'd danced around the subject of a boyfriend— just to be sure, even though Sharon had already made it clear Marisol was available. In typical Mari fashion she'd smiled, then asked what that question had to do with the construction process.

He knew what he was up against. When Mari looked at him she saw a guy who was too casual with women. She saw a one and done guy. And—okay, so maybe she wasn’t far off the mark. But instead of being put off by her rejection, Jeff was surprised to discover he was enjoying the challenge. The more walls Mari erected, the more determined he became to win her over. Not in a creepy, stalker way. In the way that when she finally said yes— it would be because she wanted him— not because he'd worn her down.

Several decisions later, the meeting adjourned. Jeff was well aware what would happen next. He would be surrounded by a herd of females asking inane questions. While he remained trapped, Marisol would make her escape, giving him a little wave and slipping out the side door.

But not today. He smiled. Today, he had a plan. Thanks to their budding friendship, Big Pete had been happy to assist with a little reconnaissance. Pete had casually positioned himself by the side door so he could slip out after Mari bolted. All Jeff had to do was extract himself from the gaggle of women surrounding him.

"Ladies, I have to step out for a moment. Please hold your questions and I'll be back in ten minutes."

  As he bolted for the side door, Sharon gave him a nod of understanding. "Go get her, Stud."

Jeff blew through the door, searching for Big Pete. It was easy enough to spot the giant perched near a mailbox down the street. As he approached, Pete pointed to the corner.

"She just went around the corner," Pete reported. "I think that's where the bus stop is."

"Bus stop?" Jeff hesitated. "Doesn't she drive to work every day?"

Pete nodded, before turning back to the shelter. "Yeah, but that's where Hector's school bus lets him off."

Hector? Understanding dawned. Maybe it was one of the kids from the shelter. It made sense the staff wouldn't allow them to walk unescorted— not in this neighborhood. "Who's Hector?"

The giant didn't miss a step as he turned back to answer. "He's Miss Ortega's kid."

***

"How was school today, carino?" Mari waited for the bus to pull away before she began their daily ritual. Another bus would come later with the older shelter kids, but this year Hector was the only kindergartener at the stop.

"I got a red star on my math paper. And Billy Stephens had to sit in the corner."

"Again? My goodness. He sounds naughty." Mari hid her smile as she accepted his folder of papers. He slung his nearly empty backpack on his shoulders, still proud that he was old enough to carry one— even if it only contained his lunchbox.

"He's always in trouble," Hector boasted. "He pushes in line and he takes everybody's crayons."

"And what does Mrs. Leonard say about this?" She slipped his fingers through hers as they rounded the corner, loving the feel of his sturdy little hand in hers.

"She says if he doesn't quit disrupping us she's sending him to the office." Hector stopped dead in the middle of the pavement, causing a mini traffic jam as pedestrians swerved around him. "Mama— what's disruppin'?"