Exposed (8 page)

His instincts were screaming at him not to. They warned that if he left now, she’d just retreat back behind the professional armor she’d enclosed herself in and she’d disappear from his life just when they’d been reconnected again.

He took a step toward her. “Look, I need you to promise you’ll call me if you need me. That’s all, okay?” he continued when it looked like she would argue. “If you need me, I’ll be there.”

She surprised him by reaching out to take his free hand. Her fingers were slender and soft in his, and he felt that simple touch all the way up his arm.

“Thank you, I appreciate it. I’m going to be careful,” she told him with a soft smile that lit a spark of desire in his gut.

Even in her heels the top of her head only came to his chin. He let his gaze wander over her. She was wearing a snug pencil skirt that matched her jacket, and it hugged the trim curve of her hips to perfection. The very image of corporate sophistication. Class, brains and a quiet confidence that he found insanely sexy. Sophisticated and composed. Looking at her now, he couldn’t even recall the sweet girl-next-door she’d always been to him.

And she wasn’t off limits to him anymore.

He had the sudden urge to plunge his hands into her hair, pull it free of the clip, wrap his hands in the long strands as he kissed and tasted that pink-glossed mouth until she moaned and melted against him. He wanted to muss her up in the worst way. Shatter that cool exterior, watch her skin go all rosy as he stripped that elegant suit off her and melted the remote shell she’d cloaked herself in.

Unable to quell the urge to touch her, Ethan cupped the side of her face with one hand. She drew in a small breath and automatically reached up to grip his wrist, her body stilling. The space between them suddenly turned heavy with anticipation.

Her skin was so damn soft against his palm, the pad of his thumb as he stroked it across her cheek. Her pupils expanded as she gazed up at him, then her eyes dipped down to his mouth. Ethan barely resisted the urge to lean down and kiss her, nip at that tempting, plump lower lip. Desire roared through him, sudden and intense, catching him off guard.

Fighting back the instinct to taste, to take, he held her gaze in the taut silence, feeling a little drunk on the triumph of knowing she wanted him too. “I don’t want to see you get hurt,” he murmured, letting his gaze roam downward, over her throat.

The pulse in the side of her neck beat hard against her skin. He wanted to taste that fragile skin. Rub his nose up the column of her neck, taste that soft spot and feel her shiver in his arms. When his gaze trailed lower over her chest, he saw that her nipples were hard points against her bra beneath the cream blouse where the jacket gaped open.

Marisol snatched her hand back from his wrist and cleared her throat almost guiltily as she took a step back and drew that regal air about her like a cloak. She gave him a stiff smile, a soft blush staining her cheeks. “It was good to see you. I’ll definitely call you if anything happens. Now I’ve got to get back to work.” She walked past him out of her office without another word.

Ethan watched her go without trying to stop her. She could try to pretend nothing had just happened between them but they both knew better. And she hadn’t seen the last of him. Not by a long shot.

He wanted to see her again, soon, so she wouldn’t have time to distance herself from him again. Because there was something more between them now than just a shared history and two decades of friendship. That spark had been real and he wasn’t going to let her pretend it hadn’t happened.

Next time he saw her, he intended to pick up where they’d just left off.

Chapter Six

Good lord.

In her mother’s kitchen, Marisol shifted her grip on the overfull, still-warm casserole she’d just pulled out of the oven. “Think you made enough
tostones
?” she called out in a dry tone.

“But Ethan loves them,” Vero, her nine year-old niece said from the kitchen table where she was studying for the last spelling test of the year.

“Yes, I’m well aware,” she murmured, fishing in the drawer for a piece of aluminum foil to cover the fried plantains with. “You can come over and say hello with me if you want.”

Mama Cruz had invited them all over for the barbecue. After another long day at work, Marisol needed a break. Spending time at the Cruz house wasn’t exactly a hardship, even if she felt a little awkward around Ethan now, especially after that almost-kiss yesterday in her office.

She’d gone back and forth about it several times since then, alternately congratulating herself for keeping from making a disastrous mistake by kissing him, and wishing she’d gone for it. She wasn’t interested in a fling or a one-night stand, and as far as she remembered, that’s all Ethan had ever wanted from a woman.

Vero shook her head and sighed dramatically. “I can’t. It’s gonna take me
hours
to learn these words.”

Hours to a nine year-old roughly translated to about fifteen minutes, in Marisol’s experience. “Well if you change your mind, I’m sure
abuela
will take you across the street later once you’re done.”

“Can’t,” her mother called down from upstairs. “We’re going to meet Paulina at the park with her granddaughter in a little while.”

“More plantains for me, I guess,” Marisol said, coming around the table to wrap her arms around Vero from behind and kiss the top of her head.

The little girl tipped her head back to look at her. “You’ll say hi to Ethan for me?”

“Yes. I think he’ll be in town for a few days yet, maybe more, so you might get to see him still.” Vero had only met Ethan a couple of times over the past few years when he’d come home to visit, yet that hadn’t prevented her from developing some sort of crush on him. Marisol empathized. The man had a way about him that made it impossible for a woman to forget him.

“Good.” Vero’s face lit up with a big smile. “Will I see you later too?”

“Probably not tonight, but maybe tomorrow night if I don’t have to work late. I’ll try my best, okay?”

“Okay.” Apparently satisfied, Vero turned back to her spelling.

Marisol slipped on some oven mitts and picked up the casserole dish. At the kitchen doorway she stopped and looked back at her niece. Vero was bent over her books, a tiny frown of concentration creasing her eyebrows.

Marisol smiled. That little girl had her auntie Soli wrapped so hard around her little finger it wasn’t even funny. She might not have come into this world under the best circumstances, being born to a single mother struggling to make ends meet, but she was loved by all four of the Lorenzo women.

Her eldest sister Ynez had shocked the family by getting pregnant in her junior year of high school, then dropped out of school and nearly ruined her life. Finishing high school while taking care of a newborn hadn’t been easy, but Marisol and the others had refused to let Ynez give up.

Their mother had taken care of Vero while Ynez worked and finished her schooling, and Marisol and their other sister, Bianca, had helped out where needed. Ynez had gone to college part time for years until Vero was old enough to be in school full time. Now she was a hard-working single mom with an accounting degree, a shining example of perseverance for her daughter.

But it hadn’t been easy. Marisol had learned an important lesson from that cautionary tale. It was why she’d decided not to have sex until she was out of law school. She just hadn’t gotten around to doing anything about it yet.

“I’ll call you about dinner tomorrow when I get a better sense of my workload tomorrow,” she called out to her mother.

“That’s fine, dear. Say hello to Ethan for us.”

“I will.” The late afternoon sun was warm against her skin as she shut the front door behind her. She had on a sleeveless white-and-turquoise print summer dress that skimmed just below her knees, and a pair of white strappy sandals. The outfit made her feel feminine and pretty and the soft cotton material breathed well in this humid heat.

She started down the concrete steps, past her mother’s potted collection of zinnias and Gerbera daisies lining the edges. The big black truck Ethan had driven the other day was parked at the curb in front of his parents’ house. Nervous butterflies took flight in her tummy at the thought of seeing him.

For a split second in her office she’d been seriously thinking about kissing him, wondering what he would do if she tried. Thankfully she’d come to her senses and put distance between them instead. Ethan wasn’t the kind of man for someone as inexperienced as her to experiment with. He had a reputation for loving and leaving, at least back in the day, and that’s not what she wanted for her first lover.

“Marisol.”

She whipped her head around to look behind her. A well-built man stood twenty feet away on the sidewalk. She squinted to see him better. He was tall, dark-haired, wearing a ball cap and sunglasses.

He started toward her. An instant of fear grabbed her. He was a stranger, knew her name. The FBI didn’t know who’d sent her the message. She’d been so careful on her way here, making sure no one was following, but what if…

Instinctively she took a step back. The heel of her right shoe caught in a crack in the sidewalk. She bit back a gasp as she stumbled, tried to keep hold of the dish as she tipped over.

Strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders, stopping her fall. God, he moved fast.

Heart thudding, she straightened and whipped her head up to look at him. And stilled. She couldn’t see his eyes but the shape of the face, the set of the mouth was familiar.

Recognition hit her an instant later and she berated herself for ever being afraid of him. “Miguel,” she said with a startled smile. He was three years older than her but they’d gone to school together.

He nodded and stepped back, giving her space. “Been a long time.”

“A really long time,” she agreed, letting her eyes run over the length of him. She hadn’t seen him in years and years. “Wow, you’ve changed.” He’d filled out big time, his thin physique now hard with muscle.

A wry smile curved his mouth. “Yeah, guess I have since you last saw me.” He stuck his hands into his pockets.

“What are you doing here?” Last she’d heard through the neighborhood grapevine he’d been in the military, mostly overseas.

He shrugged, looked down the street at the place he used to live. “Feeling nostalgic, I guess. Thought I’d come see the old neighborhood again.” He focused back on her, his eyes hidden by the sunglasses. “Just visiting your mom?”

She lifted the casserole dish a little. “Picking up some plantains she cooked. I’m just heading over to Mama Cruz’s place for a barbecue. Ethan’s there. Want to come over and say hello?”

For just an instant his face tightened but then he shook his head. “Thanks, but I can’t. Working.”

She groaned. “What are you doing now?”

“Security.”

He looked it. It’d been nearly a decade since she’d last seen him around and looked so different now. “Working on a Saturday night. Man, do I know how that goes. I should be there right now too. I feel guilty for taking a night off.”

“So I’m betting you became a lawyer after all, am I right?”

She grinned. “I did.”

“No surprise there.”

“No, guess not.” Everyone had known that’s what she’d dreamed of becoming.

“What kind of law do you practice?”

“Criminal.”

He nodded. “Got your own practice?”

She shook her head. “I’m actually with the U.S. Attorney’s Office.”

His eyebrows went up. “That’s pretty good for someone as young as you, isn’t it?”

“Well, I got lucky.”

“Doubt that. They get some pretty big cases. High profile ones too.”

“They do. But I love it.”

His expression was neutral, but she recognized that was his default expression, one he’d learned at a young age to mask his emotions. “Lots of bad people involved with that kind of thing. Be careful.”

Man, he sounded just like Ethan. “I will be.” The next pause was just long enough to be awkward, so she put on a smile and took a step toward the edge of the sidewalk. “Well, better get these to the party before they get cold. It was great seeing you again, take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, you too.” He turned and started up the sidewalk.

“Miguel.”

He stopped, looked back at her over his broad shoulder.

“How’s your grandmother?”

She couldn’t be sure but he seemed surprised by her question. “Still alive. She’s one strong lady.”

Marisol smiled softly. “Always was. Well, bye.”

She crossed the street and paused to look back just in time to see him climbing behind the wheel of a newer-model Lexus. Whatever security job he was working, it paid well. Had to be a private contractor of some kind.

At the top of the Cruz’s steps she took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, prepared to face Ethan again. She’d just pretend nothing had happened yesterday.

She waited a few seconds and rang it again. When still no one answered, she balanced the casserole dish on one oven-mitted hand before trying the knob and found it unlocked as usual when Mama Cruz was expecting guests. But when she opened the door the sound of multiple male voices registered.

Frowning, she headed through the entryway and into the kitchen, her heels clicking on the tile floor. She peered out the sliding glass doors that led to the back deck and internally groaned as she took in the scene. The tiny backyard was filled with big, fit men.

Her gaze found Ethan standing beside the grill, a beer in one hand as he flipped the burgers and talked to two guys who were built like linebackers. And that Sawyer guy was in a lawn chair talking to Mama Cruz, his black Stetson shading his face.

Not just a simple family barbecue, then, as she’d assumed. She withheld a groan. She should have just stayed at work because she didn’t feel like socializing with a bunch of strangers right now.

“Hey, Soli,” a bright female voice said from behind her.

Marisol turned to face Carmela, Ethan’s sister. “Hi.” She set the casserole dish on the counter and hugged her. “I uh, didn’t realize there’d be so many people here.”