Yours

YOURS

By

Tia Kelly

Yours
Copyright © 2013 by Keisha Young. All rights reserved.

First Edition: July 2013

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

For more titles by Tia Kelly or to contact the author, please visit www.tiawithapen.wordpress.com or email [email protected].

Dedication

To you… thank you.

Chapter One

Javier Fern
ández casually swirled the drink in his hand before raising the glass to his lips. He easily tossed back half of the contents swallowing its coolness. The beverage was not his usual Spanish brandy, but he hoped the switch up would trick his mind into forgetting about his problems. He was jetlagged and ready to go home, unless someone gave him a reason to stay. Then he remembered home was on the other side of the globe and none of the American women venturing through the bar seemed to interest him.

His
recent visit to Brazil could have included a little pleasure on the side, but Javier was on site to make sure the company’s role in the country’s renewable energy growth was going as planned. That was until his father changed his itinerary and he had to return to Spain sooner than expected.

Javier had plenty of intriguing offers from the beautiful women in Rio de Janeiro, but word of his father’s illness and pressure to complete the current phase of the World Cup project was all he could focus on.

Now the team was on to their next project, his father was dead and the man changed his schedule once again. Even from the grave. Alejandro Fernández knew how to manipulate people into getting what he wanted and he died leaving his son to do his bidding.

Javier had learned everything from his father, but there was one lesson the man did not teach him in all of Javier’s forty-four years. Javier never learned how to forgive, for if he had, carrying out his father’s will would not be so difficult.

The match on a screen mounted above the bar barely held his attention, which was unlike him. He loved fútbol, or soccer as the Americans called it. How could he forget that he was not in his native land with all the reminders that the United States had a different mentality? It was barely after seven and everyone wanted to eat dinner. He normally didn’t eat at home until ten at the earliest.

Despite the failed attempt to get into the game and periodic smiles from females passing his seat, a woman walking into the restaurant’s bar
managed to garner his attention.

Javier watched her sit down at the end of the bar, but a few minutes later she rose up and searched for another empty stool.

A frown briefly marred her cinnamon face and she squinted her pretty brown eyes, causing full cheeks to rise ever so slightly. “There’s a draft on that side of the bar.”

Without hesitation, he nodded to the vacant seat beside him and smiled. She eased onto the padded chair and he watched her curvy rear slide back on the black leather.

All Javier could think was that the attractive woman was wearing the hell out of that dress. The black, gray and ivory stripes managed to outline each layer of her feminine shape despite stopping an inch from the floor. He could see a daring heel peeking out as it gave her five-three body more height.

“Thank you,” she said softly. She then asked for a menu from the bartender and kept her head bent low while searching her dining options.

Javier discreetly observed her. She appeared pleasant, but sad. Something was on her mind and whatever it was brought her here to escape it.

He watched her nervously fidget with her straightened shoulder length dark brown
hair before she lowered her eyes absently staring at the silver, dark gray and black bangles on her wrist. She then tried to glance at him using the mirrored wall to help her, but Javier was not new to a woman’s ploys. Except this woman was not brazen like many of the others that approached him and she didn’t appear to have an agenda. She was too reserved for that.

“Do you mind?” Javier lifted his hand to show her the cigar in his hand. When she shook her head no, he nodded and clipped the end before lighting it.

Teresa watched the flame burn the tip of his cigar with fascination, wishing she could light her problems up and make them go away. That would be too easy and possibly would be immoral, so she quickly dismissed the idea.

The aroma of his cigar intoxicated her senses. She despised smoking, but loved the smell of a good cigar. Years ago, she even smoked a few from time to time, but that was just a passing phase - a time when she knew how to get and keep a man’s attention. The cigar was merely a conversation piece for her.

Everyone, it seemed, was
smoking them in the late nineties. Teresa quickly recalled when celebrities carried them proudly on red carpets, including Vanessa Williams when the actress lit up with former costar Arnold Schwarzenegger at their movie premiere.

That was also when everyone was on a Latin kick, including Diddy with his love for J-Lo. Teresa blushed recalling she wanted to once find out if Latin men made the best lovers.
Something about the man and his accent also reminded her of her fondness for Latin men.

A thought of straddling the handsome stranger
naked in the middle of a bed flitted through her mind causing her to blush. That was once she turned out the lights, snuck under the sheets and squeezed out of the two pairs of Spanx under her dress before he could notice.

Perhaps this was a bad idea.

She glanced back at the man with broad shoulders filling out a crisp blue tailored shirt. He was leaning forward against the bar and behind him was a nice backside in dark pants. One loafer rested on the brass bar beneath them and the other on the stool’s footrest. The man definitely knew how to dress.

At first, Teresa could not decipher his nationality. He wasn’t from here
and she wasn’t so sure if he was Latin like she first detected. Creole perhaps? His deep golden skin and eyes reminiscent of the water she once swam in during a trip to the Bahamas were unique. She couldn’t tell, even with his dark hair that was long enough to show it curled naturally, but not too much to appear unkempt.

But that accent gave her pause.

In a low voice, he said something in either Italian or Spanish to the bartender while pointing to the screen. The men both cheered and Teresa turned her attention to the activity on the television.

Real just scored a goal.

“You don’t like fútbol?” he asked, returning his attention to her and offering her a smile.

Spanish
, she mused, recognizing when the man asked for another drink while awaiting her response. Teresa recognized the word for “please” despite taking a high school Spanish course more than twenty years before.

She stared into his clear blue eyes noticing the small laugh lines beside them and shrugged. “Never watched it before.”

The bartender scoffed and said something in Spanish to the stranger beside her. Both men chuckled, which annoyed Teresa.

The handsome man explained before sipping his drink. “Well then I must learn you.”

“You mean, teach?”

He grinned and nodded. “Javier Fern
ández. You?”

Teresa chewed in her bottom lip nervously eyeing up her new acquaintance. He definitely fit the leading role in her erotic daydream, but he was obviously out of her league. She knew there was no harm in
playful conversation, so she answered. “Teresa.”

“
Ta-reh-sah
,” he replied. She never heard her name pronounced so seductively in all her thirty-nine years of living.  Teresa was so used to the hard pronunciation of the middle syllable, making it sound like her name was Tree-sah. Javier just made her want to change her name at that moment.

“Where are you from, Javier?”

“Is it that obvious that I am not local?” he joked. Javier paused briefly to accept another glass from the bartender and ask Teresa what she would like to drink. When she asked what he had ordered, he replied, “It’s a caipirinha. They are popular in Brazil. I grew fond of them when I visited Rio a few weeks ago.”

“Is it strong?” she asked skeptically. If she were going to do it, then she needed something to help rid her of the nervousness.

He simply grinned. “You want to try it?”

Javier
slid his glass toward her and she hesitantly took a small sip. Her eyes rounded, but then she smiled. “It’s good. Strong, but delicious.”

“Americans are used to rum that derives from molasses, but this rum is made from sugar cane.”

“It reminds me of a mojito, but stronger and no mint,” she replied. Teresa turned to the bartender and said, “I’ll take one of those… what is it called again?”

“Caipirinha.”

Twice, she tried to say the word. “
Kay-pur-een-ya
.”

While watching the man behind the counter muddle lime and sugar in a glass, Javier said casually. “I’m from Spain.”

“I’ve always wanted to visit Spain. Where exactly in Spain? Madrid?”

“No,” he grinned. “A little further north, outside of Bilbao.”

“Business or pleasure?” she asked. Hoping that if this fling was going where she hoped it would, there would be no hang-ups and he would be on his merry way soon.

“Initially, business,” he replied. A seductive smile made her heart flutter. No doubt, he saw her blush and rather than question it, he continued, “
Tienes una sonrisa muy hermosa.
”

She nearly choked on
her drink hearing the flirting behind his words, but she did not understand what he just told her. When he looked away briefly to check an incoming call on his phone, she nudged the bartender.

“What did he just say?” she whispered, asking the young guy. She
had noticed him grinning after Javier made the statement.

“He said you have a beautiful smile.” Then the man walked away to take another customer’s order.

“Have you heard of sustainable energy?” Javier asked after ending the call.

“You mean like solar power?”

He nodded. “Yes and wind, photovoltaic plus a few other natural resources. That’s what my company does and we have a division here in the United States.”

Nearly an hour later, their bodies leaned in close while he kept her engaged and answered her questions.

“I bore you,” Javier said, breaking away from the conversation. They lost track of time as he described the different types of renewable energy options and trends in the United States that his company explored.

Teresa laughed. “If you were my science teacher, I probably wouldn’t have had to go to summer school.”

“Summer school? They do that here, too?”

“I’m not sure if it is the same thing, but when I was in school you either went to get ahead in course work or because you were behind. I made the mistake of fa
iling two classes and had to spend a summer getting my grades back up. I made sure I never went back to summer school again.”

That
sentence was her reminder that she was supposed to be responsible. Getting caught up with her tenth grade boyfriend nearly proved to be disastrous and it hurt her grade point average, too. She learned that lesson all over again a few years later when she ran off and got married before she was even old enough to drink legally. Now she was divorced and the mother of two. A son and daughter that she loved too much to push away when she probably needed to.

A chime alerted Teresa of an incoming text. She peeked at her cell phone seeing she missed a few calls from her daughter.

Where are you
?
Her daughter asked in the message.

Teresa started to text back, but hesitated. There was no way she was answering to her own child.

Then guilt crept in and she started typing
.
I’m out.

Want to go to my appointment with me tomorrow?

Teresa felt her body tense and heart race. It was less than ten hours since her daughter told her that she was going to be a grandmother. Teresa hated herself for her maternal instinct kicking in during their trip to Whole Foods that morning. What was supposed to be a quick outing after her daughter got out of class turned into a nightmare. Except Teresa knew this was not your typical nightmare, as she would have had the option to wake up and forget it all was happening.

When Teresa did not respond immediately, her daughter sent another text. She knew Amber probably felt like a weight was lifted once the news was finally out in the open, but Teresa needed more time to wrap her brain around it.

Please mom.

No. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight.

Teresa placed her phone back in her bag and took a deep breath. She was not here to be responsible anymore.

First, her eighteen-year-old son wanted to spend more time running the streets and hanging out with his friends than he did helping out around the house. Teresa couldn’t blame him, but when she was busting her behind working two jobs to pay bills and settle his upcoming tuition bill, his behavior offended her. Then there was Amber’s announcement
that morning. Her daughter would be twenty-one by the time she had her baby, but the child was due two months before the wedding Teresa was also working hard to pay for.

Money
out the window for children she sacrificed her own happiness for when Teresa knew she could use have used it for herself. That was the catalyst for tonight and Teresa had enough, realizing how much she gave up to give her children a better life. Teresa didn’t date, she worked hard and made sure her children didn’t want for anything in the process. Tonight, she was going to finally do something for herself.