Just a Taste (3 page)

Carmen reached out and stroked his jaw. The red stubble tickled her palm. “What's this about?” He'd always been clean-cut, but he had a scruffy beard going on. It was trim enough to reflect that it hadn't been laziness, but intentional.

“I sometimes let it grow. It makes me look more my age.” He drank from his glass. “This time, it also has the added benefit of pissing off my boss.”

Carmen liked the feel of his face, but forced her hand away. So Liam wasn't as calm and cool as he appeared. People did irritate him. He just wasn't loud about it. “I like it.”

“It makes it harder to call me . . . what was it you and your cousin nicknamed me? White Bread?”

She hung her head in shame. Of course he would remember. Heat flamed in her cheeks. But the embarrassment didn't stop her from mumbling, “Wonder Bread.”

“Hah! That's right. Wonder Bread.”

It was almost a laugh. “We were snotty teenagers and we shouldn't have called you that.”

“It didn't bother me. I'm definitely white.”

She didn't understand. If he had ever referred to her or anyone in her family as a wetback or any other slur she'd heard over her lifetime, she'd be pissed. Definitely hurt. “It didn't make it right.”

He shrugged it off. She finished the drink in her glass and Liam already had his hand in the air to order another.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“I'm not trying to, but if it happens, so be it. Everyone needs to cut loose on occasion.” His glass was still near full. “I'll make sure you get home safely.”

She sighed. Safe had been her whole life. Maybe she was tired of being safe. The waitress brought her second drink and Carmen wondered what she and Liam would talk about. The alcohol was loosening her up, but she found that he was okay with sitting in silence.

Unfortunately, she wasn't. “Are you naturally antisocial or what?”

Somewhere in her brain, she knew the question probably came out sounding rude, but she didn't have the skills to fix it at this particular moment.

“No. At least I don't think so. Why do you ask?”

“When you worked at the restaurant, it felt like you were always on your own. I'd talk with the other staff, both front of house and back, but you kept your distance.” She wanted to ask why he'd avoided her, never asked her out like the other guys had. She'd never taken any of them seriously, so she'd always turned them down, but she probably would've said yes to him.

He shrugged. “I didn't feel welcome most of the time.”

Liam had felt like an outsider? The thought had never occurred to her. “That's too bad. I would've welcomed you.”

He smiled again, the lines in his cheeks deepening. “You were usually looking for a way to escape. Why did you hate working there so much?”

Blowing out a breath, she raised her drink to her lips. How could she explain her need to avoid the temptation of food? By the age of seventeen, she'd already been teased so much about her weight, that all she wanted was to be thin. Being in the restaurant, around her favorite foods, made it near impossible.

She looked into Liam's cool blue assessing eyes. And lied. “I didn't hate the whole restaurant. Just the kitchen stuff. I don't like to cook. It's not my thing.”

“Maybe I should give you lessons.”

She thought of his strong, capable hands, the roped muscles in his forearms, and suppressed a shiver. What was wrong with her?

“What is your thing?”

Hmm . . . the question was innocent enough, but she'd spent so much time with Rosa and the alcohol filtering into her brain made her thoughts not so innocent. She was beginning to think he might be her thing. “Business. That's what I majored in for college. I've been taking care of the office stuff for my dad since I've been home.”

He pressed his lips together like he had to consider her answer. She drank some more. The second margarita went down even smoother than the first and she was reminded why she'd gotten drunk so easily. Liam's glass was empty.

“Do you want another, or do you have to go?” she asked.

“I'll get you another. I'll stick with water. I'm driving.”

See, she knew he was one of those super-responsible guys. That's what her dad had always said.
Liam is a good boy. Find a man like him, Carmen, and you'll be fine.
“My dad really loved you.”

Liam froze, his arm in the air again to get the waitress's attention. When the waitress came over he ordered for them. Then he turned in his seat to fully face her. “I loved Gus too. I'm sorry I wasn't around more.”

“Shoot. I didn't say that to make you feel bad. I was thinking about him and you and stuff he always said.”

“I know, but I do feel bad. We talked on the phone sometimes, but I should've made time to visit.”

She reached out and rubbed his forearm. Her dark skin contrasted sharply with his pale complexion. “He understood. He liked that you were going after your dreams and finding success. You were like a son to him.”

The alcohol had her babbling and she hadn't even started on her third one yet. She didn't want to stop, though. Allowing the alcohol to relax her was freeing. She didn't have to put on a brave face for anyone. She didn't have to pretend to know what she was doing or that she had her shit together.

Right here, in this moment, she could just be a halfway drunk girl hanging out with an old friend. A cute old friend, which made the evening better.

Liam wished Carmen would stop touching him. He was a good guy, a respectful man, but she tempted him in ways her younger self only had had a glimpse of. The alcohol worked its magic, and she had relaxed and opened up. The smiles she offered were genuine, unlike the plastered-on version he'd seen at the wake and the funeral. Her warm brown eyes laughed while she spoke, telling stories of the restaurant when they'd both been little more than kids.

She flirted with him now. He had no idea if it was the alcohol causing it, or the desperation borne of grief and loneliness, or if she simply wanted to flirt. He reminded himself that she wasn't in a good place and she had things to figure out for herself. He had brought her out as a friend, out of respect for Gus and his love for his daughter. It would kill Gus all over again to see her suffer like this.

Carmen finished her fourth margarita and Liam suggested it was time to leave. She sighed. “Yeah, it's time. I'm feeling pretty buzzed.”

She shoved away from her chair and wobbled enough that she slapped her hand on the table for balance. Liam grabbed her arm.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm just out of practice for getting drunk, that's all.” She said it with a smile, as if nothing could possibly bother her.

Her dark hair caught under her jacket as she slipped it on. He reached over and pulled her hair out. The silky strands flowed over his fingers and the backs of his hands as it trailed down her back. “Thanks,” she said, and he noticed the unfocused look in her eyes.

He held her arm as they wound through the bar toward the exit. She pulled away and put her arm around his waist and leaned into him. She giggled. “I think I'm more than buzzed.”

He slid his arm around her shoulder and guided her to the car. The blast of cold air zipped through him, but her soft body against him kept him warm. At the car, he turned her to lean against the back door while he opened the passenger side. She wove in place.

“Are you going to be sick?”

She laughed again. “I said I was out of practice, not stupid. I didn't drink enough to puke.” She staggered to the door and plopped her butt in the seat. Looking up at him with her brilliant smile, she said, “Thanks for this. You really are a good guy.”

Liam waited until she shifted her legs in and then closed the door.

By the time he got behind the wheel, Carmen had leaned her head against the passenger window and her eyes were closed. He probably shouldn't have let her have that last drink, but she was relaxed and having fun, so he didn't want to stop it. He started the car and while it warmed up, he studied her face.

Her hair cascaded across one cheek and her light pink lips parted slightly. Even as she rested, she appeared to be smiling. Then he noticed she hadn't buckled her seat belt. Damn. He shifted his body and reached across to grab the belt, careful not to catch her hair.

She stirred, her eyes fluttering open. “Whatcha doin'?”

“Buckling your seat belt.” He yanked to get some more slack and did his best not to notice how the belt ran across her chest, making her breasts even more prominent.

While he focused on snapping in the buckle, she stroked his jaw again, like she had at the bar. “I like this. It makes you look different. Sexy.”

Oh, man. He pushed back to his seat and shifted the car into drive. She settled against her seat again with a small sigh. The ride to her house was short and he didn't know if he should be grateful or disappointed. He'd enjoyed their night out. Carmen wasn't quite the same girl he'd known years ago, but he saw hints of the girl in the woman she'd become.

Parked beside her house, he walked around to her door and opened it. She took his offered hand. Again he wrapped an arm around her to keep her steady and guilt tugged at him. She'd probably be hung over tomorrow and feel like crap.

She pulled her keys from her pocket and studied them like she couldn't remember what she was supposed to do. Liam took them from her palm. “Let me.” He held the keys and added, “Drink lots of water before you go to bed. It'll help with the hangover.”

He turned to the lock and she leaned against the wall. He began to doubt she'd even make it to her bed.

While he tried to figure out which key belonged to this door, her finger traced his jaw again. “I've never kissed a guy with a beard before.”

Crap. His fingers twitched with the keys and he finally figured out the right one. He pushed the door open and removed the key. “Are you going to be okay from here?”

Her lips bunched before she spoke. “Yeah.”

Sadness and disappointment reappeared. She'd expected him to kiss her. Hell, he wanted to, but it wouldn't be right. She was drunk and grieving. He couldn't take advantage of her. He also didn't want to be the cause of any more sadness. With one finger he slid her hair away from her cheekbone. Her skin was flawless and smooth. “I had a great time tonight. Thanks for coming out with me.”

She tilted her face up. “Do you want to come in?”

It was an offer that intentionally didn't sound like an offer.

“As much as I'd like to”—and he really hoped she understood how much he wanted to—“it's not a good idea.”

He stepped back to allow her to go through the door. “Give me a call if you need help with anything. I mean it.”

She pressed her lips together and added a tight nod. Then she closed and locked the door.

Liam had the uncomfortable feeling that he'd just messed up somehow.

Carmen woke the following morning, late morning, with a pounding headache. She should've listened to Liam and drunk more water. She'd downed one glass before crawling into bed, and now she didn't feel like she could climb out to get more. The simple act of lifting her head from the pillow required great effort and caused much pain.

Her phone bleeped at her and she checked the screen. A text from Rosa:

 

 

Carmen focused on the little letters on the screen and told her cousin not to come.

Rosa immediately called. “Why don't you want me to come over?”

“Because I don't feel good.”