Dancing in a Hurricane (18 page)

She dressed and drove home, dreaming of jumping in the hot tub to ease her muscle aches, but when she passed a row of fast food joints, her empty stomach growled. She resisted the drive throughs in hopes of finding some of Sixto's leftovers in the fridge. When she opened the door into the house, the wonderfully spicy scent of Sixto's cooking set her stomach rumbles on high. "I hope you made enough for two. I'm starving."

"Of course," he called from the kitchen.

He stood at the sink washing grapes, his hair in a braid. As she poured herself a cup of coffee, she checked out the thickness of his hair. Why had he chosen to grow it? She didn't know any other men with ponytails. "Did you just get up?"

He looked at her and his eyes narrowed. "Yeah. Long night at the club."

Did that have a double meaning? Maybe he went home with a girl. She derailed that thought. That was none of her business.

"Where've
you
been?" he asked casually.

"At the gym."

"Energetic, aren't you?"

"I need to get into a workout routine again. I've been lazy the last few weeks."

He put the grapes in a colander and dried his hands on a red hand towel. "I just finished eating. I put the leftovers in a Tupperware in the fridge."

"It smells so good. You sure you don't mind?"

"No. I'll warm it up for you."

"I can do it. Thanks." As she pulled the bowl from the fridge, her cell phone rang. She jogged to the dining room table where she left her purse. "Hello?"

"Bree? It's Tim."

"Oh." She didn't think she'd hear from him after their last conversation. "Hi, Tim. How are you?"

"Good. Bree, I want to apologize to you for being a jerk after the movie. I was picking up the wrong signals, I guess."

He guessed? What signals was she giving? "Apology accepted."

"Thanks. How about I make it up to you? A picnic on the beach tomorrow? It's supposed to be a nice day."

She didn't feel especially drawn to Tim, but it was early in the relationship. Maybe he would grow on her. "Okay. Should I meet you?"

"I'll pick you up at noon. I jogged by your house yesterday. You're really close."

That was a little creepy. "Um, sure. Can I bring something?"

"I've got it covered, but if you'd like to bring a salad, I'd let you."

She smiled. What was it with guys and vegetables? "Okay. See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

She hung up and tucked the phone back in her purse. Another date with Tim. A possible date with Élian. Pretty soon, those dark, sensual thoughts of Sixto would melt from her mind.

Yeah. Right.

Bree padded to the kitchen and Sixto set her coffee on the counter. "Sit. Food's in the microwave."

She slid onto a barstool. "Thank you."

"Mm." He pulled the plate out of the microwave, grabbed a fork, and put it in front of her. "It's eggs, hash browns, peppers and onions scrambled."

"I'm starved." She inhaled deeply and her mouth watered. Using her fork, she began to pick apart the eggs.

Sixto grabbed her hand.

Chapter Thirteen

Shocked, Bree looked at her hand, covered by Sixto's. When she glanced up at his face, he stared into her eyes.

"Bree, I want you to trust that when I put a plate of food in front of you, there will be nothing bad hidden in it."

She glanced at her breakfast then back at him. Her eyes burned and she held her breath to keep her gratitude from spilling over. This was his way of helping her face her phobia. "Sixto, I trust you." She swallowed. "But ten years of practicing a bad habit is hard to break."

He released her hand, crossed his arms on the counter, and leaned in front of her. "One step at a time." He nodded to her plate. "Take a bite."

Her hand shook as she forked into a clump of egg. "Scary." She tried to smile to make light of her fear, but it was too real.

"I know. But if you can take one bite, you've started to turn it around."

She lifted the fork to her mouth, forced herself to open up, moved the food into her mouth, and closed her lips around it.

His eyebrows went up. "You can do it."

She held her breath, slid the fork out, and chewed. Swallowing was difficult because of the lump of emotion in her throat.

"You're a strong woman, Bree. You can conquer your fear."

"Sixto, you're going to make a fabulous therapist some day." A tear slid down her cheek.

He reached up and brushed it away with his thumb. His eyes softened to a warm brown. Why couldn't he always be this tender?

He pushed away and walked to the coffee pot. "If I ever finish my master's."

She nodded. He'd admitted he was attending school part-time. Was there a way she could encourage him to give up some of his modeling and bartending hours and study full-time? He had a God-given talent for helping people, but he couldn't see how positively he would affect the community.

She concentrated on taking another bite.

He stood on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against his usual spot on the counter, drinking his coffee and watching her.

"This is delicious. And it tastes even better because I'm eating like a normal person."

He laughed. "You are normal. You just overcompensated for a trauma in your youth."

She tapped her fork on her plate. "Don't ruin it for me. You should just keep telling me what a great person I am." She made a goofy face.

"You are great. And I…" He groaned and pulled his hand down his face. After a minute, he said, "I was out of line last night." He met her gaze. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

She poked at her food, realized what she was doing, and put down her fork. "I think I'm to blame for that." Last night, she let the music flow through her, let her body move primally, naturally.

"No, I take responsibility. You were just dancing and I lost control."

She sipped her sweet coffee and set down her cup. "Fifty-fifty blame then?"

He smiled. "Okay." He looked at his watch. "I work tonight. I'm gonna get a few more hours of sleep."

Her brain flashed a picture of him sliding into bed, the black satin sheet skimming his bare chest. Oh, Lord! Her eyes opened wide and she bit her tongue to keep from asking if she could join him.

He narrowed his eyes. "You okay?"

Her cheeks had to be bright pink. "Yeah, I was thinking about Tim."

"The teacher?"

"Mm hm. We're picnicking on the beach tomorrow."

"Should be a good day for it. Bring your sunscreen."

"Yes, mom."

He opened the dishwasher and set his cup on the top rack. "I'm serious. I've seen northerners like you burned pretty badly."

"I'll be careful. Promise."

He walked past her.

"Sixto?"

He backed up a step, stopped next to her, and looked at her face, his eyes turning that soft brown that melted her insides.

"Thank you." She looked at her breakfast. "I'm going to get over this."

His lips curled slightly. "Good. You'll get my bill in the mail."

She laughed and watched him stride to his bedroom and close the door.

Bree finished her breakfast without picking through it—mostly. She looked through the cabinets and found a cookbook that seemed basic enough for her to tackle, selected two salads and a dessert Tim might like, and scribbled a grocery list.

A half hour later, after resting the prescribed time before a swim, she tugged on one of her new swimsuits—plain black, just for support—and did laps in the pool until her arms and legs loosened up from the morning exercise. She stopped in the shallow end to stretch and caught a movement in her peripheral vision. She looked at Sixto's blinds and saw them swinging. Was he watching her?

She grinned. She was so klutzy on the dance floor, he was probably just worried about her drowning. Hopefully, that was all it was. Damn. What was she going to do about him? About them?

Bree stepped out of the pool, turned on the bubbler switch, and eased into the hot tub. Closing her eyes, she formed a simple, effective plan. She'd avoid any tempting situation with Sixto.

"Ha." What situation
wasn't
tempting? Their rocket-fire attraction ignited whenever they were in the same room. Heck, even in the same house.

Maybe being in the same house was the problem. "Hmm."

***

In the produce department of the grocery store, Bree's cell phone rang. "Hello?"

"Bree?"

"Yes."

"It's Élian."

Surprised, she stopped squeezing a tomato. "Hi. How are you?"

"Good. Is it okay for me to call you on your cell?"

She picked up a cucumber. "That's what phones are for," she teased.

He laughed, a gruff sound, as if he'd lost his momentum. "Yeah, okay. Well, I had a nice time last night and I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me sometime."

"Oh." She hadn't imagined he would call since he hadn't said anything when he dropped her off last night.

"Marisa and Rico thought it would be fun to double date."

"Marisa." She nodded. Marisa probably made him call. "That sounds nice, Élian. I'm kind of busy the next few days." She wanted to get through this date with Tim first and make a decision about him before she made any promises to Élian. "Can I get back to you?" She turned down the pasta aisle.

"Okay, sure, call when you can." He was so easy going.

"Talk to you soon. And thanks again for the ride home last night."

"Welcome. Bye."

She hung up and chose a box of farafalle for her salad and headed to the baking section. Trying to picture Élian in a romantic setting proved difficult. He was handsome and a gentleman. She'd have to kiss him to see if they shared a spark. As a permanent attachment? Yes, he was definitely a good candidate to be a husband and father.

She set flour and chopped walnuts into her cart.

Compared to Élian, she didn't see Tim as a family man. Why was she going out with him again? Then there was Sixto… She stomped her foot. How did he get into her soul search? He told her he wasn't interested unless it involved a lot of sex and zero emotional commitment.

Sex with Sixto—she moaned as a chill started in her lower back and spread around her torso. That would be incredible, but the damage to her integrity would leave her devastated. Five years ago, she barely came through the triple punch of losing her parents, her fiancé, and severing ties with her sister all within two years. Since then, she'd scrupulously guarded her heart.

Walking to the checkout lanes, she strengthened her resolve to wait until she found the right man before she made any changes in her sex life.

***

The next day, everyone in Miami decided to head to the beach. Tim brought a big umbrella that he muscled into the sand. He set up low chairs in the shade for them. Instead of her new bikini, Bree wore a one-piece pink and blue swirled suit. If Tim thought she gave off a sexual vibe in a sundress, she wouldn't risk overstimulating him with a two-piece.

After an hour, the heat brought out dewy drops on her nose. They swam, even though the water felt cooler than she expected. When they walked out of the surf, Tim stared at her hard nipples.

She would not cross her arms over herself. He could act like a juvenile, but she'd keep her composure. Without warning, he grabbed her and made a game of not releasing her until she kissed him. With so many people on the beach, she wouldn't feel particularly conspicuous kissing him, but she damn sure wasn't going to give in to his unromantic, exhibitionist game. She pleaded hypothermia and they walked back to their chairs.

She sat and he stood in front of her, posing himself, making his abs washboard. Tim had the lean, sleek body of a runner. His physique didn't impress her the way Sixto's did, but Tim wasn't a fashion model. He didn't amp up his body, sculpting it into perfection…

Stop!

She needed to look beneath the skin to the soul. Unfortunately, in Tim, it didn't go very deep.

Tim loved her salads and her cherry nut squares. His contribution was a Subway cold cut sandwich, chips and beer. She should really take a peek at his driver's license. Could he actually be twenty-four?

He leaned toward her. "Kiss me."

She turned her face and brushed her lips over his. When she moved away, he put his hand on her neck and pulled her back, his mouth insistent, his tongue demanding. She relaxed, tried to enjoy it, until his hand touched her waist and moved up to grab her breast.

With both hands, she pushed him away. "Jeez! Not in public." She gave him the stink-eye. What was with this man?

"Sorry, Bree. You're right." He looked at her breasts again. "You look awesome in that suit." He stood and held his hand out to her. "C'mon. I want to show you something."