Chapter 10
A fter Tomas and Louisa walked off, Fiona’s mother grabbed her arm and hustled her to the parking lot.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that I will meet Tomas this afternoon to have coffee.”
“Don’t be disrespectful. You will cancel.”
They squared off over the hood of her mother’s BMW. She dug through her purse for the keys to her own car. “That would be rude. We collaborate on projects, blowing him off would make things very uncomfortable at board meetings and events.”
Why she chose now to stand up to her mother, Fiona didn’t know. All she did know was the look of relief in Tomas’s eyes when she’d agreed, and the pitter-pat of her quickly beating heart.
“Thank you,” he’d said. “I’ll call later.” With that, he’d squeezed her arm, nodded at her mother, and escorted his mother to his truck.
“That man is on the board of Keeney Works?”
Technically, no, but her mother didn’t need to know the details, so Fiona nodded.
Her mother tapped a manicured nail against the glossy paint of her car. “He looks hard.”
Fiona bent her head and beeped open the door to her own car, hiding her reddening face from her mother’s scrutiny. Tomas was definitely hard, but her mother didn’t need to know that, either. “He is a colleague. We are working on a project.” Again, not exactly true, but not exactly false, either.
“Just coffee, and just business.” With a pointed look, her mother climbed into her car, dismissing Fiona in the process.
Later that afternoon, Fiona closed her eyes and willed her heart rate to settle down.
“You look lovely.”
She turned away from the mirror to see Iris standing in her office doorway, hands clasped in front of her. With a guilty start, she put the lipstick away and closed the closet door. “I was just, um….”
“It’s okay. Tomas is a very nice man, and it’s good for you to go out.”
“Really?” Was her former mother-in-law encouraging her to start dating? Smoothing her damp palms along her thighs, she inquired, “How did you find out? Not that I was keeping it secret.”
Waving away her protests, Iris took a seat in one of the two chairs facing the desk. “Louisa told Marcia, and Marcia told me.”
“Of course,” Fiona muttered, eyes narrowing at the grin on Iris’s face. This was so not what she had planned for the day. She reached for her phone. “I should cancel.”
“No!” Leaning across the desk, Iris grabbed the phone and pulled it out of Fiona’s reach. “You will be fine.”
“But what will we talk about?” Fiona had been unable to concentrate all day. She’d start something and then get distracted, remembering the feel of his rough hands on her arm.
Her mother’s disapproval didn’t help, either. She’d texted multiple times to remind Fiona to keep things on a professional level. Her last text was a demand for Fiona to attend dinner that night. Fortunately, Fiona answered honestly that work prevented her from doing so.
“Keeney Works, Keeney Builds, KBS. You have a lot in common,” Iris replied.
Slumping in her chair, Fiona fingered the cool jade of her bracelet, trying to calm her racing heart.
“You share the same passion for working with people who haven’t had a break, and you know his story. You know where his heart is at. Loosen up; you’ll be fine.” Iris placed the phone back on the desk and moved it closer to Fiona.
“Loosen up,” Fiona repeated softly. She caught her reflection in the black screen of her laptop, then yanked the pins holding her hair firmly in place. The heavy, dark mass fell around her shoulders. She finger-combed it, tucking a strand behind an ear.
Iris shook her head, eyes wide. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair down.”
An incoming text prevented Fiona from replying. Reading it, she stood from her chair and smoothed her hands down her skirt. “He’s here.” She walked around the desk and bent down to kiss Iris on the cheek. “Thank you.”
The older woman reached up and patted Fiona’s cheek, blinking back tears.
On wobbly knees, Fiona entered the reception area.
Legs wide, posture straight, Tomas’s back was toward her.
She looked at the reception desk where Gina, a fiftyish volunteer, sat staring at Tomas’s butt.
When she noticed Fiona’s arrival, she winked.
At Fiona’s scowl, she grinned and said, “Fiona’s here, Tomas. ”
He glanced over his shoulder, then turned completely around, gaze roaming over her face and hair as she approached. “Hi,” she said.
In the intervening hours, he’d shaved and exchanged his T-shirt for a short-sleeved, button-down shirt and his faded jeans for dark wash jeans that clung to thick thighs.
Lips turning up at the corners, he reached out and took a strand of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers.
He wrapped the strand around his finger and gave it a gentle tug. “You ready?”
Wordlessly, Fiona nodded, then turned big eyes toward Gina, who waved a hand as if fanning herself. Turning back, she took Tomas’s extended hand and followed him out of the building.
He led her to a KBS truck, opened the passenger door, and stepped back. She eyed the distance between the ground and the seat, then was lifted up and deposited in the truck. “Hey!” she protested. He grinned, closed the door, walked around the truck, and climbed behind the wheel.
“I could have done that myself,” she grumbled.
“Yeah,” his gaze flicked over her, “but it’s more fun my way.” With that, he started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot.
She wasn’t going to say anything, but secretly, she agreed.
Being held by him, even for that brief moment, sent her pulse racing.
Her gaze roamed the interior of the truck, noting how clean it was, in contrast to what she’d thought a contractor’s vehicle would be like.
But it smelled like Tomas, woodsy with a hint of lime.
With a quick side-eye, she took in his profile, the firm chin, hawk-like nose, dark eyes with ridiculously long eyelashes topped by thick, straight brows.
Like every time she had seen him before, he was clean-shaven.
Unusual, given the current trend for men was a carefully sculpted stubble.
To prevent herself from swooning, she fixed her gaze on the rosary hanging from the rearview mirror.
It swung and swayed with the movement of the vehicle, the silver cross flashing in the sunlight.
When the truck stopped, she glanced out the window.
They’d pulled into the parking lot of the Keeney River Park.
“I thought we were going for coffee?” She turned bemused eyes on Tomas.
“Here.” He handed her a cold take-out cup from the drink holder. “Iced, non-fat, vanilla latte, right?”
Fiona nodded, accepting the drink.
“I asked Iris what you liked. I’m not one for sitting still, so I’m hoping you won’t mind if we walk a little.”
They both looked at Fiona’s sling-backed wedged heels, then she met his questioning gaze. “I’ll be fine. Maybe a little help on the gravel, though.”
Tomas was out of the pickup and rounding the hood before she’d managed to get the seat belt off.
He opened the door, spanned her waist with his big hands, and lifted her down.
He reached in, grabbed the drinks, and handed one to Fiona.
Then he closed the door, took her other hand, and guided her to the path, not letting go, even when they reached stable ground.
She was holding hands with a man.
She was holding hands with a man who looked like an Aztec god, had bothered to find out what her favorite drink was, and drove his mother to church.
He squeezed her hand then released it.
“I owe you an apology.” His deep, rumbly voice drew her gaze up to his. Stopping them in the middle of the path, his eyes were soft and filled with remorse. “I was a dick last night. I was rude, and you deserve to be treated so much better.”
“Okay….” She bobbed her head, accepting the apology. “But why were you like that? Did I do something?”
His eyebrows drew together in a fierce frown as he looked over her head, heaving a deep sigh. “A few days ago, I saw a man holding you, and I thought you were seeing someone.”
“Wait… what ?” Fiona cocked a hip and propped a fist on it. When was the last time a man held her? Besides Tomas helping her in and out of the truck. “Where was this?”
Shoving a hand through his hair, red flags of color appeared on Tomas’s cheeks. “The Keeney Works parking lot.” His face looked pained. “It was a couple days ago. I stopped by to get a signature from Iris, saw you leave and jump into a guy’s arms.”
Leaning forward, Fiona enunciated clearly, “That was my brother.”
“I know that now!” Tomas put a fist on his own cocked hip. “I didn’t last night.”
The scowl didn’t work with his blush.
A lock of hair fell into her face, and she flipped it back over her shoulder, trying to figure out what to say.
“Like I said, I was a dick. I’m sorry.” There were no smiles, just contrition on the hard, flushed planes of his face.
She wasn’t used to men who apologized. Eddie never had. But he was less than half the man standing before her. She nodded again. “Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But for the record, if you want to know something, ask me.”
He grinned, and there it was again, warm, crinkly eyes making her insides melt. To hide her reaction, she sipped on her straw, turning back to the path.
F or the next little while, they meandered the path bordering the slough, stepping aside for cyclists and speed-walking geriatrics while getting to know each other.
They each had a casual relationship with the Church but deeply respected their mothers’ faith and commitment to community.
They weren’t strangers; Tomas knew about her divorce, and Fiona knew about his time in jail.
He shared the surface story: how stealing his stepfather’s car landed him there, and how that’s where he’d learned construction.
He did not share about the years when he and his mother were alone after his father left, his struggles in school, or his learning disorder.
She was part of one of Keeney’s leading families, held an MBA, and was the executive director of a non-profit agency.
As much as he wanted to, he had no idea if he would get further than coffee with her.
Tomas slowed his pace, taking shorter steps to match Fiona’s.
It was hard to keep his hands to himself.
The breeze would blow her hair into her face, and she would flip it back, the scent of jasmine filling the air.
Knowing the weight and softness of her hair, he wanted to touch it, brush it back from her face, hold his hand against the soft curve of her neck.
Instead, he shoved his free hand in his pocket.
Her watch beeped, and she crinkled her nose as she checked the time. “I have to get back. I have a Zoom meeting in half an hour.”
Turning, they returned to the truck, Tomas taking her hand to guide her across the gravel, and once more lifting her to place her on the seat. He shrugged at her scowl. “Wouldn’t want you landing on your dignity.”
She snorted. “As if being lifted into a truck is dignified.”
When he started the truck, she rolled her window down. Soon, her hair was blowing, and jasmine filled the cab. They got to Keeney Works, and he parked by the curb, lifting her down once again, and walked her to the door. Through the window, he saw the grinning receptionist watching them.
“Thank you, I enjoyed that.” Smiling up at him, Fiona attempted to tame her windblown hair.
Unable to resist, he smoothed it back for her. “When I call, you’ll answer?”
Biting her lip, she glanced down, then up at him. “Why me? I didn’t exactly treat you well, and I’m a hot mess. I did very little dating before marrying Eddie, and you know how well that turned out. I’m not sure what you expect from me.”
The vulnerability in her words ate at him.
He wished he’d met her long before Eddie, but he didn’t have the power to turn back time, and who he was at that time was not a man worthy of Fiona.
He wasn’t sure if he was now, but he sure wanted to be.
With one hand still holding her hair back, Tomas linked the other with one of hers.
“I’m not expecting anything. But I admire you and want the chance to get to know you.
That’s all. We can see where this goes.” Reluctantly, he released her to step back, repeating his question, “Will you answer the phone when I call?” His heart beat rapidly while he waited for her answer.
“Yes,” she said in a firm, steady voice.
“Good.” Nodding at the receptionist, he opened the door and held it for Fiona to enter. She passed the reception desk and, before entering the hallway leading to the offices, turned, waved, and smiled brightly.
Tomas smiled as well. It was a good start. They hadn’t opened up about everything, but that would come. While he wanted to know everything about her: favorite food, favorite movie, morning person or night owl, he wasn’t ready to share about wanting to be an architect.
Would she laugh? Would she scoff at his lack of education? Not for the first time, he mentally kicked himself for not accepting help in high school.
He’d been such a jackass. Hanging out with idiots and not listening to his mother and stepfather. Finding work wasn’t hard. He’d been strong and good with his hands, but not being able to read had limited his future. Going to jail even more so.
The pay was good, and the work at KBS and Keeney Builds was satisfying, but could he have more? And what would more look like? Fiona’s face came to mind, and he smiled.