Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Rafael was happy to wake up for the first time in weeks.
He absolutely was not the kind of person to wallow, but that’s what he’d been doing since Grace had walked away from him.
Wallowing. It couldn’t even be called something as cool as brooding, because it wasn’t even all angry and moody and sexy. It was just sad.
He should probably be scared that Grace had such an impact on his emotions, but it was hard to care when she’d come home with him, when he’d gotten to hear those sounds she made in the dark again without any fear of his sister overhearing, when she’d slept flush against his body like it was right where she wanted to be.
When Rafael finally stopped lingering in the memories of the night before and opened his eyes, however, he realized that Grace was gone.
His door was closed, but there was noise coming from somewhere beyond, and he slid out of bed, eager to pick up where he’d left off with Grace.
There would be no awkwardness or sight-seeing or monasteries this time.
This time, he wanted to spend every minute alone with her.
She was standing in the kitchen, making every attempt to hack into the side of a pomegranate. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face at the sight. There she was in his clothes in his apartment doing God-knows-what to that poor pomegranate.
“Having some trouble?” he asked.
“I swear I’ve done this before. This one’s just a tough little sucker.”
He walked around behind her and took the knife from her hand, slicing right along one of the ridges of the pomegranate with ease.
“Show off,” she said.
“You’re welcome.”
“Do you want to do the spanking or should I?”
He raised a brow. “You know I’d like to watch you take a whack at it.”
Her lips twitched like she was holding back a smile, and she proceeded to slap the seeds from the fruit and into a large bowl.
“Here’s my plan,” Rafael said.
Grace continued to struggle with the fruit but didn’t ask for help. “Oh, you have plans, do you?”
Rafael shrugged. “I do.”
“I’m not sure why you think you’re the one in charge,” she teased.
He leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “Used to getting my way, I suppose. Except there seems to be one particular person who completely throws me off my game and brings me to my knees. I’m hoping she might humor me this time.”
“It’s not necessary to talk about me in the third person.” Grace shook her head. The way she looked at him with that fake little scowl made him want to lift her right up onto the countertop and have his way with her. Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. He would add that to the plan.
“Well?” Grace asked.
“Eggs,” he said. “And carbohydrates. And lots of water.”
“So…breakfast? That’s the big plan?”
“A breakfast of champions, Graciela, so that afterward, I can take you back to my bedroom with enough stamina to have my way with you for hours. Or we might not make it to the bedroom.” He winked at her. He was truly enjoying himself this morning. He felt lighter than air. “We can play it by ear.”
“So, no trips to various cathedrals today?” Grace quipped.
He narrowed his eyes. “Very funny. I was nervous. I wanted to sweep you off your feet.”
Grace smiled, drinking him in with her gaze.
“If you’d put that knife down again, I’d really like to kiss you.”
Grace had been cutting a second pomegranate—with better success this time—but slowly she placed the knife on the counter.
“There we go,” Rafael said, moving in. He kissed her hard, like a promise of all the things that were going to follow. She let out a little gasp, and Rafael was instantly hard. Maybe they should start with the new plan before breakfast.
“I really should go home at some point,” Grace said.
She was fully clothed, despite his best efforts, but after several rounds of sex and another shower, he couldn’t be too sad that they were relaxing on the couch for a while.
At least she was still next to him giving him the cutest play by play of the latest season of The Great British Bake Off.
After a while, she mentioned returning to her apartment, and Rafael jumped in. “What do you need from home? We can go pick it up and come back here.”
“Well, I should probably talk to Alma. I haven’t told her the latest developments, and I think I need to be totally open with her this time.”
Rafael gave her a quizzical look.
“Well, okay, not totally open. That would be weird.”
“Why don’t you just call her?” he asked, taking Grace’s hand in his.
“You know Alma, right? I think you’ve met her once or twice before? She is not going to be satisfied with a phone call. And I just need to get my head in order.”
Grace was right about Alma. A phone call was not going to satisfy her in this instance, but he didn’t know what Grace could possibly mean about her head.
What part of her head was not in order? Everything in Rafael’s head felt perfectly ordered.
In fact, he’d never felt so sure about anything in his life.
“What’s wrong with your head?”
Grace bit her lip, which he knew meant there was something she didn’t want to say. A flash of panic struck him in the chest.
She leaned back from him and twisted a strand of hair between her fingers. “I was just thinking maybe we should take this slow,” she said. “I don’t want to rush into anything.”
His mouth formed a hard line. “We haven’t rushed, Graciela. We lived together for over a month. We spent every single day together, and now one day is too much?”
She took his hand, rubbing her thumb again his knuckles. “It’s not too much. I just thought maybe we should go out and have dinner a few times and ease into it…like regular dating for a while.”
Rafael nodded slowly. He could handle that.
It seemed completely unnecessary, but if Grace wanted to be courted, that was definitely something he could excel at.
What he really wanted was to spend every second with her and tell her he was already in love with her anyway, but that probably didn’t count as taking things slow, so he would go along with whatever she needed.
“Okay,” he said.
“Yeah?” She leaned toward him, pressing her shoulder to his.
Rafael kept his tone casual. “If that’s what you think will work best for us, then that’s what we’ll do.”
“Really?”
He took a moment to inhale her scent—it was his soap and shampoo, but there was something more underneath, something sweet and delicious and completely her. “Yes, really. See? I’m not so stubborn after all.”
Grace’s mouth tilted in a half-smile. “Debatable.”
Rafael pressed a kiss to her temple and decided to take his chances. “Could we have dinner this evening, then? If that’s what we’re doing now?”
Grace eyed him for a moment, and he held his breath. “Yes,” she said.
“Good.” He exhaled. He could handle one step at a time, as long as the next step was in sight.
Grace’s eyes crinkled with delight. “Good. Then I guess I should go home.”
“I’ll admit I’m still used to the days when you thought this was home.” Shit. He didn’t mean to say that. Did it sound like he was suggesting she should live with him again? So much for having no problem taking things slow.
Grace faltered for a moment like she wasn’t quite sure how to take his statement either. “It’s nice to know my room is still available pending any unnatural disasters,” she said calmly.
He tried to relax and make a joke. “Oh, you still think of that as your room, do you?”
She elbowed him in the side. “You know what I mean.”
He did know what she meant, because it still felt that way to him too, like she belonged there. And that meant taking things slow was going to be a struggle.
Grace wanted a proper date, and that’s what she was going to get.
He knocked on the door of her apartment that evening and didn’t even flinch when Alma answered the door.
He’d brought flowers, and Alma gave him a thorough once over before shaking her head and opening the door wider to let him inside.
“He’s here,” Alma called. She crossed her arms. “Where are you taking her?” she asked Rafael in Spanish.
“Ummm, La Tomasas,” he said.
“Fancy.”
He shrugged.
“Should I expect her to come home this evening?” Alma asked, all prim and proper like she was Grace’s chaperone.
Rafael didn’t know what to say to that. This was just as weird as Grace’s had always feared, but Alma would get used to it. She had to. “You’ll have to ask her that,” he said. “Thank you for saying whatever you said to her. I know this must be strange for you.”
Alma grinned, softening slightly. “It is, but I know it must be strange for you, too. Don’t you dare hurt her, though, Rafa. I mean it.”
Rafael rubbed his hand against his jaw. “I know you do. But maybe you could tell her not to hurt me, too?”
“What are you guys talking about?” Grace asked as she glided into the room. She was wearing a tight black dress and her hair fell across her shoulders in a way that made Rafael want to reach for it on instinct, but he forced himself to refrain. At least for a little while.
“You, of course,” Alma said, switching to English.
Grace scrunched up her face. “What about me? You better be nice to my date, Alma.”
Alma spun on her heel toward him. “He has nothing to fear from me if he behaves himself.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Rafael said. “Don’t worry.”
In an instant, Alma was in his arms, pulling him into a hug. They weren’t exactly a hug-giving, sentimental kind of family with the kind of patriarch they had to deal with, so Rafael almost stumbled backward with surprise.
“I want you to be happy,” Alma whispered in his ear.
“I am,” he replied.
When Alma pulled away he looked over to Grace to find her watching them with wary eyes.
“She didn’t even make any death threats,” Rafael assured her.
“I didn’t,” Alma confirmed. “I’m being very supportive.”
“Okay,” Grace said skeptically before pulling Alma into a hug of her own and heading toward the door. She didn’t touch Rafael at all, not yet, but something glimmered in her eyes that managed to put air in his lungs, filling them until his chest puffed up.
“These are for you,” he said, handing her the flowers. Grace’s expression could only be described as suspicious. “What? You don’t like flowers?”
She tilted her head at him. “I do.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Flowers were a typical gesture of affection, right?
Grace glanced at Alma. “I don’t know. I just wasn’t expecting this. It’s…romantic.”
Rafael’s words expelled from his lips in a rush. “You don’t sound like it’s romantic. You sound nervous. You wanted me to take you out on dates and take things slow, so here we go. First date.”
Grace pushed her hair behind her ear. “I know, but you don’t need to go out of your way. I mean, just be you…”
Rafael rolled his eyes. He’d thought he was doing exactly what she wanted. “I am being me. I can be romantic, Graciela.”
“I know that.”
Alma was watching them from a stool near the kitchen. “You guys are bickering like this is your one hundredth date.”
Rafael narrowed his eyes at her for a quick moment before turning toward the door. “Ready?” he asked Grace.
She handed the flowers off to Alma and followed his lead. “Ready.”
It was everything it was supposed to be.
The restaurant was gorgeous with a romantic ambiance and delicious food.
Grace held his hand when they wove past the bar and over to their table.
She smiled at him from across the table.
But despite everything going according to plan, something felt off, like she wasn’t entirely herself.
This was supposed to be their first date, but he knew her, and he knew that something was wrong.
“Good wine,” she said.
He nodded.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” he asked.
“Like something very serious is going on in your brain?”
Rafael sighed. “Because you look uncomfortable. I can tell.”
Grace bristled. “What do you mean?”
Rafael sat back in his chair and stared at her. “You’re all stiff and you keep glancing around like you’re looking for an escape route if something goes wrong.”
Slowly, she shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m happy to be here.”
“I’m happy to be here,” Rafael countered, like a challenge.
“Well, then let’s enjoy ourselves,” she commanded, but there was a light of mischief in her eyes. That was more like it. More like Grace.
He took another sip of his wine. “Tell me about something. What’s on the syllabus for your new class next term?”
She did tell him. About every female artist she was planning to put in her lesson plans.
She told him about her latest faculty meeting and the assurances that her contract would be renewed for the following year.
That was a relief, honestly. She told him how Alma had burned a fish on the stove the other day, and the whole place started smoking so much she was afraid they were in for another disaster, and she would have to move out of their apartment all over again.
“You turned up the temperature, didn’t you?” Rafael asked. “You’re just looking for an excuse to come back to my place.”
He watched the blush creeping over her face.
It was almost normal then, but not quite.
Rafael could tell that something was still bothering her, but he didn’t know what it was.
He didn’t want to push her, but he was also a little desperate.
She had a lot of power here—power to send him right back to his state of wallowing—so he wanted to know what was messing with her brain.
If there was a way to fix it, whatever it was, then he needed to figure out how.
“Will you come home with me?” he whispered in her ear after the meal, as they started to walk out of the restaurant.
“On a first date?” she teased.
“Yes.” He kissed the top of her head and waited for a response. The seconds that passed felt like millions of years.
“Yes,” she said.