Chapter 24
“ C rap!”
“What? Did you hurt yourself?” Tomas was immediately beside her, looking for blood.
“I’m fine. I just realized I need to answer an email, but I’ll get to it later.” They were making dinner together, something she’d only ever done with her family; she and Joseph following her mother’s orders.
Being with Tomas like this, working together to prepare a meal, was a pleasant experience she was quickly getting used to.
After eating, Tomas rose from the table and started to clear it. Fiona pushed her chair back to join him.
“I’ll take care of this,” he said. “You go do your work.”
“You sure? It can wait a little longer.”
He turned her toward her home office and gave her a gentle push. “Go. I’ve got this.”
Gratefully, Fiona retreated to her office and opened up her laptop.
She didn’t raise her head until almost an hour later.
Realizing the time, she hurried out of the room with an apology on her lips and found Tomas on the back deck, hunched over a sketchbook with gridded paper.
Beside him was a ruler, an eraser, and a few pencils.
He looked up at her arrival, a welcoming smile on his face.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. I didn’t think it would take so long,” she rattled on, wringing her hands in worry.
Rising from his seat, he held his hands out in a calming gesture. “It’s fine. There’s been an idea floating around my head, and I was able to get it down on paper. I didn’t notice the time.”
“You’re not mad?” Her heart was still pounding.
Shaking his head, he stepped closer and drew her into his arms. “Of course not. But I think this is something we need to talk about.”
“Okay.”
He chuckled as he looked down at her widened eyes. “Don’t panic. It’s nothing bad,” he assured her, taking her hand. He led her back inside and over to the couch, drawing her down beside him. He shifted, placing one arm on the back of the couch, and faced her, still holding her hand.
“We haven’t been together very long, and when we do have time alone, we’re normally in bed.”
“Yeah,” it came out as more of a question.
Leaning in, Tomas’s lips formed into a panty-melting smile. “Don’t get me wrong. I like sex, especially with you.” He kissed her softly, then pulled back. “Do you bring work home a lot?”
That was a question she hadn’t been expecting.
“I don’t need to. It’s more of a habit I got into.
Eddie and I didn’t spend a lot of time together.
If he was home, he’d be in his office, and I’d be working in the dining room.
Then I was alone, and work was a good diversion.
” She thought about the nights she’d spent beating herself up for not realizing Eddie married her only for what she represented: an “in” to her family’s business.
Work was something she could control, and it chased away the inadequacy that plagued her.
“So me being here each night isn’t keeping you from getting stuff done?”
“No! In fact, it’s made me stop being a hermit. I like having you here.”
“Good. But if you have shit to take care of, or you want to be by yourself, let me know. My feelings aren’t gonna be hurt.”
She held up a hand like a Girl Scout. “Promise. And, well, the same goes for you. Feel free to go and be with your friends or—” she waved a hand in the air “—whatever it is you’d rather do.”
“Good to know,” he replied, pulling her into his lap, “but if you’re good with me being here, this is where I want to be.”
He circled her back with his big hands until the tension faded away to be replaced by a warm feeling, and she relaxed against him.
That night, he made love to her, slowly, attentively, as if the entire evening was all for her.
A couple days later, Fiona pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex where Tomas lived.
She would be seeing his place for the first time and was curious to see what it revealed about him.
Sitting in her car, she looked over the grounds of the complex.
There were three buildings in a U-shaped formation, each with three floors of apartments.
In the center of the U was a grassy area and a swimming pool.
The place was quiet, clean, and well-kept. It seemed very much like Tomas himself.
Fiona tugged down the visor, giving herself the once-over.
Deciding to refresh her lipstick, she reached into her tote bag, touching the panties and nightie she’d placed in it before leaving the house.
She wanted to stay the night, and hoped he wanted her to as well.
In the time they’d been sleeping together, she could count on one hand the number of times he hadn’t spent the night.
She was nervous, unsure what the change in their routine meant.
But she wasn’t going to find any answers sitting in the car.
She swiped on a layer of lipstick, fluffed her hair, climbed out of the car, and made her way to Tomas’s unit.
The door was open, and he leaned against the jamb, watching her approach. It was all she could do not to lick her lips as she took in his snug-fitting jeans, equally snug-fitting T-shirt, and hot gaze directed at her.
“Hey,” she said. Fresh from the shower, his hair stood up in spikes, and underneath the smell of his soap, his distinctive scent hovered around her, and she sighed.
He drew her in with a hand around the back of her neck and touched his lips to hers. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” She took his other hand and allowed him to pull her inside.
The single-bedroom apartment was bright with late afternoon sun.
To her right was a bathroom, and to her left was a kitchen with a peninsula separating the kitchen from the living area.
She followed Tomas, looking around and studying his private space as if looking for clues.
Two high-backed stools were pushed in against the peninsula.
The counter itself was bare and clean. The kitchen counters were relatively bare as well.
A tea towel was folded neatly over the oven door handle, a pot of something simmered on the stove, and a wooden spoon and an open bottle of beer rested next to it.
The aroma of garlic, butter, and onion filled the air, and Fiona’s stomach growled in anticipation.
Tomas grinned. “Supper should be ready soon. Want a glass of wine?” At her nod, he opened the fridge, pulled out a bottle, and turned to pour some into a glass sitting on the counter. Fiona took the glass and continued her examination.
“How long have you lived here?” she inquired, taking in the small dining room table pushed up against the wall, with three chairs pushed in around it. The table was set with plain white dinnerware on woven bamboo placemats. Navy blue napkins were folded and placed on the plates.
Tomas moved past her to the distressed leather loveseat, settling in with his bare feet up on the trunk that served as a coffee table. It faced a credenza with a flat-screen TV resting on it and was flanked by two bookshelves.
“A year ago, September.” He watched as she perused the books on the shelves, then moved over to the drafting table beside the window. She hopped up on the stool and swiveled to face him.
“It’s nice.”
“My sisters chose the furniture. I gave them a budget and the cash. They had a blast going through flea markets and secondhand stores.”
“I’ll bet.” Fiona caught his eye and grinned. The furniture may have been secondhand, but it was of good quality.
“I drew the line at the bed. I wanted one that no one else had slept in.”
“Perfectly understandable,” she agreed with a laugh.
“How’s Little One?”
Fiona rolled her eyes. “She had quite the busy day. She unrolled the toilet paper and dragged it all around the apartment. When I opened the door, she was standing on the table, a stream of toilet paper behind her and the end in her mouth. She looked at me, like, ‘Go about your business, there’s nothing going on here.’ She was most annoyed when I cleaned it up. ”
Tomas threw his head back and laughed. “Did you take pictures?”
“Yes, I’ll send them to you.” Giggling, she looked at a closed sketchpad on the drafting table and asked, “May I look?”
He rose from the couch and stepped closer, turning her chair to face the drafting table. Reaching around behind her, he pulled the sketchpad closer and opened it. She studied the page, taking in long rectangular boxes. “These look like….”
“Shipping containers. Some cities are re-purposing them into dwellings. I’m not sure how cost-efficient they are, but I like the challenge of working with found materials.”
“I’ve seen photos. Even apartment blocks are made out of them. Are you thinking of building something here in Keeney?”
He stepped back, and she twisted around to face him.
He was rubbing the back of his neck, looking out the window, and gave a diffident shrug.
“I don’t know yet. There are so many possibilities.
I was actually thinking about using containers to build a house for myself.
” He looked back at her, seeming a little vulnerable, which warmed her heart even more.
Then he cleared his throat and moved to the kitchen.
“Dinner’s ready. Have a seat and I’ll bring it in. ”
Dutifully, she headed to the table and took a seat, watching while Tomas brought over a pot of white bean chili, then went back for a plate of warm cornbread. “Yum.” She smiled. “I could get used to this.”
As tempting as the food was, she couldn’t eat more than a few bites of the cornbread and forced herself to swallow a few spoonfuls of chili. Tomas ate with his usual gusto, and she waited until his bowl was empty before pushing hers away.
“Something wrong? You don’t like it?” he asked.
“It’s great. It’s just…I have to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
She took a deep breath and released a torrent of words. “My mother gave the information about Woodbine Automotive being for sale to the restaurant chain who then outbid Carlos for it.”
The delicious cornbread turned to a leaden lump in her belly as she watched confusion turn to comprehension in Tomas’s eyes. It had been ages since she’d seen such a hard expression on his face.
“Your mother screwed over Carlos?”
She nodded, unable to speak for the lump in her throat.
“What the fuck? What the actual fuck?” he spat out, shaking his head. “Is Joseph part of this? Is he partnering with Carlos to squeeze more money out of him? Or is he stringing Carlos along, building up his hopes only to back out later on?” His glittering gaze bore a hole through her.
“What? No. Joseph said he has a plan to fix it. He’s just as angry as I am and doesn’t want your family to be screwed over.”
“Really?” Tomas snorted. “How long have you known about this?”
She cursed herself for giving in to Joseph. Tomas’s hard glare let her know he wasn’t going to be happy with her answer.
Once, when she was very small, she’d been playing in her father’s greenhouse and knocked over a flowerpot, crushing the plant under the broken terra cotta.
Knowing she wasn’t supposed to have been there by herself, she’d cleaned up as best she could but didn’t think about the vacancy left behind on the shelf.
When asked, she said she knew nothing about it.
Her mother didn’t believe her and pressed until Fiona confessed, tears running down her face.
Her mother’s scolding had hurt, but her father’s disappointed look hurt even more.
Now, facing Tomas’s thunderous expression, not telling him the truth didn’t occur to her.
“Joseph told me last week,” she admitted, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice.
“A week?”
“Yes. He asked?—”
He didn’t give her a chance to finish. He pushed his chair back, gathered the dishes, and strode to the kitchen. A plate smashed and cutlery clattered when he threw them in the sink. Then silence.
Tomas stood with back to her, gripping the edge of the counter. “I think you should leave,” he said in a cold, flat voice.
Wordlessly, she fled, tears blurring her vision.