Team Tomás (The Saints Team #2) (6 page)

Chapter 13

“Next, I’m going to dine you, Al... iss,” Tomás said,
in his sexy Spanish accent, “but I will make you work it off later,” he teased.
He left some dollars on the table and I noticed a very generous tip, waved
goodbye to Rocco and we went back to his car. From there we spun into town to a
tiny tapas bar called
Granada
.

We left the car, he took my hand in
his, and we entered a small but crowded restaurant. Again Tomás knew all the
staff and there were kisses and handshakes as we were led to a private little
room and seated in our own booth. That didn’t stop the flow of interruptions,
but in a way I welcomed them. I could watch Tomás without blatantly staring;
watch the way his smiled, laughed, related to people. The way he dipped his
head just a bit shyly sometimes, the way he eyes lit up and became guarded when
he wasn’t sure.

And I was introduced as the woman
with him; everyone was checking me out. I wonder how many of Tomás’s women they
had met in the year that he had been with the Saints. Most of all Tomás was a
good guy, a really good guy. To me, he was sweet and generous with his
affections. The only bad things I had discovered so far about Tomás were that
he liked to play the scene and was, according to the ladies at the
Shaken
Not Stirred
bar, a bit rough. I guess if he was not in a relationship and
was hot, single and in demand, there was nothing wrong with that. Except, I
hoped to change his relationship status. I wondered if playing the field had a
use-by date. Was a couple of years enough or did some people want to do it for
life? I wondered what Tomás wanted.

“
Bella
,” Tomás said,
getting my attention, “this restaurant has a tapas-only menu, an excellent one.
Do you trust me to order for us?”

“Please,” I said, and within
minutes a very attractive Latin American waitress joined us and greeted Tomás as
if she knew him, carnally. I watched and internally panted as he ordered in
Spanish without opening the menu. We both ordered colas to drink—Tomás was
driving and training early in the morning and I wasn’t going for a repeat
performance of last time, even though I’d be happy to revisit Tomás’s bed.

Tomás sighed and took my hands
across the table. “This place, the food is very authentic,” he said, with what
I thought was a hint of melancholy.

“Where is home?” I asked, studying
his beautiful features.

“Buenos Aires.” The words rolled
off his tongue. “Beautiful city, very European, it is often called the ‘Paris
of South America’—think the tango, artists, writers, theatre, historic
architecture, wild nightlife and of course, beautiful people.” His eyes looked
soulful as he spoke of home.

I was still working on the image
of Tomás dancing the tango in my head, with its dominant, long sensual moves. I
cleared my throat. “When did you last go home?” I asked.

Before he could answer, another
attractive female walked in with our colas and slid into the booth next to Tomás,
nudging him with affection.

“He doesn’t go home enough, or so Valentina
tells me,” she teased him. “How is Tina? Are you keeping an eye on her?”

“She is well. And you look well,
Lucia,” Tomás said and they kissed each other on each cheek. “This is Al...
iss.”

The beautiful Lucia gave me a warm
smile. “Welcome to our restaurant, Al...iss.”

“It’s wonderful,” I said, trying
not to stare at the way she snuggled into Tomás. She had straighter dark hair
than mine, which was no mean feat, large lips and large brown eyes.

“Thank you. My business partner
and I like it, but it takes over our lives. So, Al...iss, is he behaving?” She
winked at me.

Tomás rolled his eyes.

“Unfortunately yes,” I said, and
Lucia laughed out loud.

“Ah but the night is young,” she
said and wrinkled her nose at me in a teasing fashion. “I could tell you some
tales.”

“But you won’t of course,” Tomás
said, ushering her out.           

Lucia laughed again and shuffled
off the bench. Before leaving she turned back to Tomás. “When does Julieta
arrive?” she asked.

I noticed Tomás stiffen and his
eyes flicked quickly to me and then back to Lucia.

“Sunday,” he said.

“Good, I look forward to it. Make
sure you bring her in.” With a wave Lucia disappeared.

I reached for my cola and had a
sip, a thousand questions buzzing in my mind that couldn’t be asked because it
was our first official date and I had no right to be territorial. But who was Julieta?
His sister, cousin, friend, or more? Well that sucked and threw a bucket of
water on my dream date. I had to pull myself up and out of that thought.

“I am sorry for the
interruptions,” Tomás said, “but it is the best tapas restaurant I know.”

“It’s
all good,” I assured him. “I love being here with you and meeting the people
you know.” His fingers interlaced with mine. “You’re quite distracting Al...
iss,” he said, with a shy smile.

I cocked my head on the side and
studied him. “What does that mean exactly?” I asked.

He drew a breath and I waited for
his response.

“I confess I didn’t want to think
of you,” he said and cleared his throat. “But you kept invading my head space.
I tried for a week not to think about you.”

I frowned. “But, why didn’t you
want to think...”

We were interrupted by the arrival
of a number of small tapas dishes, this time delivered by a waiter that Tomás
greeted as Felipe, who named each dish for my sake and left us to it.

Tomás moved on as though he hadn’t
just dropped a huge, intriguing bombshell on me.

“You must try this one first,” he
said and, taking my fork, put a little of the spicy dish on it and brought it
to my lips. He watched my mouth as I took the offered bite. His eyes met mine.

“Mm, so good,” I said.

He smiled, took his own fork and
helped himself to a serve. Tomás made me taste each dish and waited for my
reaction before having a bite himself: bacalao, slow-roast pork shoulder in
chipotle, shredded duck tortillas and chargrilled chorizo.

“Rich, but delicious,” I said.

“You wait until you try my
mother’s cooking... I almost didn’t accept the contract here because I’d have
to go without,” he joked.

I waved off another bite; it was
hard to eat when Tomás was sitting opposite me looking so divine and his legs were
pressed against mine under the table. Plus he was talking about me meeting his
mother... I could be reading a bit into that but I was running with it.

He leaned forward. “Maybe coming
here was a mistake,” he said.

“Why?” My eyes widened. “It’s
wonderful.”

He shook his head and I bit my lip
with concern.

He moved several of the plates out
of the way and reached for my hands again. “I’m going to scrap the next part of
the great date,” he said, look intently into my eyes. His brown eyes were so
compelling.

My mind was going through a
thousand scenarios in milliseconds, thinking of what I might have done wrong or
didn’t do at all.

Tomás ran a finger around my palm
and up my arm, giving me tingles. He lowered his voice.

“Sitting here and not being able to have you to
myself is...” His breathing increased and as if on cue, Felipe arrived again to
clear the plates and Tomás sat back, thanking him.

I cleared my throat and found my
voice. I made some conversation so it wasn’t awkward in the silence.

“So,” I asked again, “when did you
last go home?”

Tomás drank some more cola before
answering. “At the end of last season, about four months ago.”

“Do you miss it?” I asked.

Tomás exhaled and leaned forward,
looking me in the eyes.

“No.” He shrugged.

“No, not a bit? No, not this week?
Or no, not ever?” I asked, studying him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love my
family, but there’s a lot of them.” He smiled. “That’s how I got the nickname
‘Pez’. When my family visited last year, someone at the club said it was like
seeing a Pez dispenser of Carreras.” He smiled and shook his head. He was so
adorable. “But I am free here. My only responsibility is to play well for the
team and to keep my contract. At home, it is always duty.” He finished his
cola, and chased it down with a half glass of water.

I did the same because the meal
had been spicy.

I started to put two and two
together about us—Tomás and me—but before I could explore it further, Tomás
pulled out his wallet and put more cash on the table.

“Come Cookie, let’s get out of
here.” He rose and hurried me along. “I’m scrapping the next part of the great
date... no more people around us. I want to show you something.”

“Thank you, Tomás, for tapas,” I
said, accepting his hand as he helped me out of the booth. He pulled me into
him, gave me a kiss, and grinned at me.

“The pleasure is mine,” he said,
stopping to look at me for just a moment. “Let’s go.”

He kept my hand in his and I
hurried to keep up with him. We left with the same raucous round of greetings—farewells
this time—and Tomás stopped to sign an autograph and appear in a selfie with a
young fan at the entrance. We returned to Tomás’s car and he saw me in again
before coming around to the driver’s side. This time, he took off fast and we
headed towards the beach. He parked away from the madding crowd.

“You might want to leave your
shoes,” Tomás suggested. He pulled his black leather dress shoes and socks off
and rolled up his suit pants a few inches. I left my bag and shoes in the car
and exited. He met me at the front of the car, and taking my hand, walked me
towards the beach. He leapt the two steps down to the dune, turned around, and
lifted me down. When my feet touched the sand, he didn’t let me go but pulled
me closer.

“There’s nothing here but the
waves, moonlight and solitude,” he said, and sighed.

“Perfect,” I whispered.

Tomás put his hand in my hair, and
leaned into me, kissing me softly then deeply. I slid my hands into his open
coat and onto his white T-shirt. I lightly ran my nails down his back and he
stiffened... everywhere.

I could hear the waves crashing
and Tomás’s controlled breathing. My own heartbeat sounded as though it could
lead the school band. He slowly pulled away, wrapping an arm around my shoulder,
and we walked down the beach. I left my arm around his waist, inside his
jacket.

“I couldn’t concentrate before, with
all those people around and your legs inside mine,” he said.

Thousands of pins and needles
tingled me everywhere. He was so smooth, very dangerous for a young blood like
me. But I soaked it all in, trying to capture every minute in my mind’s camera.
I shivered, not from the cool air, but as tingles from being near him rushed my
skin. Before I had time to explain I wasn’t cold, he slipped his jacket off and
held it out for me to put on. I slipped my arms in and he took my hand, smiling
at how his jacket drowned me.

“Isn’t this magic?” I said,
feeling the cold sand between my toes and the light spray of the ocean on my
face.

“I come here often at night,” he
said. “Everyone is down the other end with the bars and lights, but here is so
quiet.”

“By yourself?” I asked. I wasn’t
sure if that was good or a sad thing.

He nodded. “I like the time out.”

“Tell me, Tomás,” I started.

“Yes, Al... iss,” he looked at me
with a hint of a smile.

“Why can’t you be free at home?”

“Ah.” He pulled me in closer
again. “I can now I guess. But that’s a fairly new thing.” He hesitated,
putting his words together. “You see, my father cleared out one day... when I
was twelve, just left.” He did a vanish-into-thin-air motion with his hands. “My
mother, God bless her, was left with five of us under twelve. I was the eldest,
then I had twin sisters a year younger, a brother who was nine then, and
Valentina—Tina—is the baby, you met her… she was eight when my father left. So
I guess we all stepped up and grew up a bit, but I feel like I’ve helped raise
a family,” he shrugged. “Now, everyone has finished school, my contract has
bought my mother a good house and she won’t have to work again and I am free.”

I nodded and looked at him with
new admiration.

“If I go home, I am pulled into
all the family stuff and while that is great, I just want to be me for a
while.”

“I get it,” I said. “You’ve had so
much responsibility from such a young age.”

“They are my family, it’s what you
do,” he said, and shrugged; Tomás wasn’t good at taking compliments.

 “But you were a boy,” I said.

“I was the man of the house when
my father left.”

“You are such a good person, Tomás.
Your father was irresponsible, but clearly you didn’t get that trait,” I teased
him. “You deserve some time off for good behavior.”

He grinned. “That’s one way of
looking at it. Let’s sit,” he suggested and dropped to the sand, suit and all.
He raised his arms for me and lowered me between his legs, wrapping his arms
around me. Nothing else existed in the universe in that moment; it was perfect.
We sat that way in silence for a little while until Tomás broke it.

“I have something for you,” he
said and reached into the outside pocket of his jacket that I was wearing. He
pulled out a little black velvet pouch and gave it to me.

“What’s this?” I asked looking
from the pouch to him. The words of the models at the bar came back to me...
he
gives good gifts
. Was this going to be my first and only date with Tomás
and this was a pay-off?

“Open it,” he insisted.

I pulled open the black cord on
the small pouch and pulled out a beautiful Pandora bracelet in silver with half
a dozen mosaic blue and green ball charms. I knew it would have been expensive—far
too expensive to give a girl on a first date.