The Wrong Man (14 page)

Taking her hand, he led the way to the patio.

“We thought you had left,” Manny said, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. “But maybe you were busy.” A smile of amusement hovered at the corners of his mouth, as if he had a pretty good idea what they’d been doing.

Tomas chuckled and Talia blushed. When they sat down, Bianca immediately started talking to him in Spanish again.

Tomas twisted his head in her direction. “Bianca, we need to speak in English because Talia doesn’t speak Spanish.”

“She doesn’t?” Bianca cast a glance in Talia’s direction. As if she really didn’t know.

Fake bitch.

“
Lo siento
—I mean, I’m sorry,” Bianca said.

Tomas rested his arm on the back of Talia’s chair, sitting back with his legs spread wide so one knee touched hers. He started a conversation with one of the men across the table. Talia didn’t know if he saw the malevolent look Bianca shot her, but nothing could spoil her good mood. Tomas had insisted they be exclusive.

She placed a hand on his muscular thigh, and he played in the short strands of hair at her nape, drawing circles with the tips of his fingers and sending tingles of pleasure down her spine. The lustful look he sent her warmed her in secret places and meant one thing only. When they went back to her place, she was going to get it.

Chapter Seventeen

Darkness had fallen hours ago, and Talia rushed out of the office after a long day. Starved, she couldn’t wait to get home and eat a hearty meal. A week ago Tomas had made a delicious lasagna and she’d frozen half. Last night she removed the dish from the freezer with the intention of eating it for dinner tonight.

Tomas cooked like a chef and he made the best lasagna she’d ever tasted. He infused the dish with fresh basil and smothered the pasta in mozzarella. Thinking about the meal, her mouth watered on her way out the revolving door to the street.

When they didn’t go out for dinner, he cooked for them. Arriving to the sight of him standing shirtless at the stove, fixing a meal of spaghetti and meatballs or soup and Cuban sandwiches was a powerful aphrodisiac. There was something so sexy about a man standing half naked at the stove, cooking from scratch. She never grew tired of the sight.

Outside she saw Carter on the sidewalk. She mumbled a good night, intending to walk by.

“Talia.” Her surprise must have shown on her face because his lips twisted into a self-deprecating smile. “Do you think we could talk for a minute?”

“Sure,” she agreed. They rarely spoke, except about work related topics, and right now, they weren’t working on any projects together.

“I’ll only take a minute of your time,” he promised. He moved closer to the building, out of the way of other workers heading home for the evening. She followed. “I want to talk to you about the day of the housewarming party.”

She’d almost forgotten about the confrontation at Shawna’s. It had taken place months ago. “Oh.”

“The things I said…” He grimaced. “I didn’t mean them.”

“Of course you did.”

“No, I didn’t. Did you mean what you said?”

She considered his question. She’d been angry and hurt at the party. She didn’t hate Carter, but she’d said the cruelest things she could think of. “No, I was trying to hurt you,” she admitted.

His shoulders relaxed. “That’s what I figured. Because of Paula.”

“You shouldn’t have brought her to my friends’ party,” she said in a hard tone.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Agreed. I know you and Shawna are best friends, but I considered her my friend, too. In my defense, I really didn’t think you’d be there. The idea was to get in and get out fast.”

She cocked a brow in skepticism.

“Okay, maybe I wanted to show off a little bit,” he admitted. “You were the one who asked for the divorce, and I guess…I hoped to show everyone how well I was doing. But we didn’t plan to stay long.” His eyes pleaded for understanding.

“It doesn’t matter now, I suppose. It’s water under the bridge, and hopefully we can move on. We were married for a long time and being apart took time to get used to.”

“Took?” he repeated. “You’re already used to it?”

Perhaps because they’d already grown apart by the time she asked him for a divorce, getting accustomed to living alone didn’t take as long as she’d thought it would. “We lived in the same house but barely saw each other and weren’t sleeping in the same bed anymore. Maybe if we had been I would have felt more of a loss.”

He nodded, appreciative of her honesty. “We did have a good relationship for a while.” The statement sounded like a question.

“We did,” Talia agreed.

A thoughtful look entered his eyes. “You’re different,” he remarked.

“Am I?” Talia self-consciously touched her hair.

“Not physically. I don’t know what it is. Happier, maybe?” He searched her face.

“Oh. I suppose.” She didn’t know how to respond. It would be unkind to mention the difference was as a result of the new man in her life.

“Yes, you’re definitely different,” he declared with a firm nod. “Happier in a way you weren’t before. Because of him? That Tomas guy?”

Talia thought it best to keep the answer short. “That might have something to do with it.”

A pained expression crossed his features. “I have to admit, I’m a little jealous.”

Her lips parted in surprise at such a confession. “Carter…”

“Don’t feel sorry for me.”

The conversation had taken an unexpected turn. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t look at me like that. There’s nothing to say.” He shrugged.

“I did love you once.” She wanted to make that clear.

When they’d met, she didn’t have any friends and had always felt uneasy and out of place, as if she didn’t fit anywhere. Making friends had been hard, especially when she couldn’t go out with them because Maybeth demanded she focus on her education. It became easier to keep to herself and project an image of cool indifference.

Carter had impressed her right away. In awe of him and his intellect, she couldn’t understand what a worldly man of thirty-three could possibly see in her.

“You loved me, but not the way you love him.”

Talia’s couldn’t respond, jarred by his assertion when she hadn’t openly admitted her feelings to herself. Were her feelings for Tomas so obvious? Being with him excited her, and she carried a giddy lightheadedness throughout the day, every day, even at work. Just today Lillian remarked on how mellow she’d become, and she’d dismissed the comment. But Carter had zeroed in on the reason for the change.

He shrugged. “It’s my own fault. I should have protected you more from Maybeth.”

Talia shook her head vehemently. “That wasn’t your job, and I can handle my grandmother.”

“Can you?”

She straightened her spine. “Why are you questioning me?” she asked sharply.

Carter fixed her with a penetrating stare. “Have you told Maybeth about him?”

Her eyes darted away to the afternoon traffic. She wanted Maybeth out of her personal life and out of this relationship. She ignored the question. “Were you the one who told her we were divorced?”

“I ran into her at a cocktail party Paula and I attended together. I had no choice.”

She’d been part of that world for years but hadn’t attended any formal events in a long time. She suddenly realized she didn’t miss the stuffy dinner parties and polite conversations with people who had no more interest in her than she had in them.

“So, have you told Maybeth about him?” Carter prodded.

Talia hugged her waist. “No,” she said shortly. Mentioning Maybeth had spoiled the evening.

“Why not? You’re not ashamed of him, are you?”

Her eyes snapped back to him. “Of course not!” She wasn’t ashamed, but her grandmother wouldn’t understand.

“You know, I always felt she had too much control over your life. Her interference made our marriage difficult at times, as if we had a third person in the relationship. I could have done more to be a buffer between you, I guess, but you, more than anyone, need to stand up to her.”

Carter had never before expressed an opinion about her relationship with her grandmother. Talia hated the truth of his words, but Maybeth had helped her become the woman she was today. Her guidance all these years was the reason Talia had achieved such success. Not only was she the only woman on the executive team, she was the only member under thirty. Maybeth always pushed her to want more and work harder, even if her methods of motivation were unconventional.

A taxi pulled up to the curb.

“That’s my ride. My car’s in the shop.” Carter hung back. “Maybe we could have lunch one day, you know, to talk. Sometimes…” He looked away and gave a little shrug. “Sometimes I miss talking to you. You always kept me on my toes.”

Talia smiled at the unexpected compliment. “Lunch wouldn’t be so bad,” she agreed.

When he started walking away, she touched his arm. Part of her felt a little sad. You couldn’t be with someone for ten years—eleven if you counted the year they’d dated—and not feel a sense of loss when they were no longer part of your world.

“Even though our marriage didn’t work, I’m grateful for all you did for me. I know you think you could have done more, but in a way you saved me from my grandmother. If we hadn’t gotten married, I don’t know what would have happened to me. You helped me grow up, and I’ll always love you for it.” She moved toward him and hesitated because he pulled back. But then he opened his arms and pulled her into his embrace. She hugged him tight. “I want you to be happy,” she whispered, and she meant it.

He pulled away and nodded, keeping his head down, and she could tell he couldn’t speak for the emotion in the moment. Nostalgia and regret hung between them.

He took a deep breath to compose himself and when their eyes met, he grinned at her. “I want you to be happy, too,” he said. He squeezed her arm.

With one last lingering look, they said good night and headed in opposite directions.

****

Talia stopped on the way home and picked up a side salad to add to the lasagna. She washed down the meal with flavored water and then prepared for bed, thinking about the conversation with Carter and how much her life had changed since the divorce. She couldn’t argue with his assessment that she was happier. Tomas had brought about a change that could only be termed as monumental. She had new friends now and concentrated on simpler pursuits she had never participated in before.

Tomas had taught her how to roller skate, and last week they’d joined a few other couples at the paintball field. Her team lost miserably, but she’d had so much fun. He was always introducing her to new activities because he knew she hadn’t had the opportunity to indulge in pastimes purely for fun and not for political or financial gain.

Talia rolled over in the bed. The more she thought about Tomas the more she wanted to see him. They hadn’t seen each other in days and she missed him.

He went to bed early during the week, but since tomorrow was Saturday, he’d still be awake. They hadn’t talked in a few days because of her busy schedule, and he didn’t text, which drove her nuts. He considered texting an unnecessary evil and an excuse for people to avoid speaking to each other. He absolutely forbade her to use her smartphone at dinner and wasn’t above confiscating it if she tried to sneak a peek at social media streams or secretly send a text when she thought he wasn’t looking.

She picked up the phone and called him, and he answered on the second ring.

“What are you up to?” she asked.

“Six inches.”

She laughed, turning onto her back and feeling better already now that she’d heard his voice. “I’m serious.”

“Me, too. If you keep talking in that voice, my
pinga
will only get longer.”

She didn’t need a translator to explain what
pinga
meant. “I called to say hi because we haven’t talked in a few days.” 

“So you were lying awake thinking about me?”

“No.”

“Of course you were.”

She rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see her. “Such arrogance should be outlawed.”

He chuckled. The warm, inviting sound of his laugh never failed to make her smile. “So why are you calling me so late? Is this a booty call?”

“If it is, will you come?” She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Yes, and I’ll make you come, too.”

She giggled like a schoolgirl, half burying her face in the pillow. Being with him was so much fun. Until now, she hadn’t realized something had been missing from her life. “How long will it take you to get here?”

“Five minutes.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me, too. I just pulled into your complex.”

Talia bolted to a sitting position and patted the scarf covering the blue and orange flexirods in her hair. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not. You wanted me, and I’ll be there soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” she said, scrambling out of bed.

After they hung up, she ran to the bathroom and yanked the rods out of her hair, laughing to herself. If he saw her he’d make one of his generalized statements about women. Imparting his so-called knowledge from years of observation.

Women. You think too much. You’re way more concerned about your hair than we are. Don’t get me wrong, we like it, but we don’t pay as much attention to it as you think. That’s why so many men get into trouble when they don’t notice their woman’s new hairstyle. Now bigger breasts, that’s something we’d notice.

She ran her fingers through the curls until they fell into place around her face. Maybe she suffered from a bout of vanity, but she wasn’t ready for him to see her with curlers in her hair yet.

She took a good look at herself and wondered what was happening. Overly bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and these feelings she had for him bordered on dangerous. The level of excitement that surged within her every time she heard his voice or knew she’d have the chance to see him were all so foreign. Tomas could hurt her way more than the pain she’d felt a few months ago when her marriage ended. Yet she continued on this adventure with him because she couldn’t stop. She didn’t know how to at this point.