“I will.”
“Take care.” He walked away toward the exit.
Carmen breathed a sigh of relief and momentarily closed her eyes. He clearly hadn’t realized that she and Carlos were together because he hadn’t asked for an introduction, but now she had to face Carlos.
She turned slowly and froze in surprise when he wasn’t there. With a quick sweep of the area, she saw him down another aisle that contained small baskets filled with heirloom tomatoes.
She walked over, but when she stopped beside him, he didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes trained on the heirlooms. He picked one up, inspected it, and then put it back in the container.
“That was a friend of my father’s.”
“So I heard.” He looked at her then, his eyes probing, questioning.
“I was going to introduce you, I just—”
“Before or after you told him that you were here on business?”
So he’d heard that much.
“That’s partially true.”
He let out a dry laugh. “Don’t lie to me. You weren’t going to introduce us.”
“He knows my father. I couldn’t risk—”
“I know you can’t risk him finding out, so that’s why I walked away, as if we didn’t know each other.” His attention returned to the tomatoes.
Carmen stepped in close and stared up into his face, willing him to look at her and ease the guilt that burned her chest. She touched his forearm, but when he tensed, she dropped her hand.
“I didn’t know how to handle seeing him. I panicked.”
Her words brought a bitter smile to his lips as he glanced sideways at her. “Don’t worry. We’ve been here before, remember? How long did we date before you told your father about us? Three months? Four?”
She dropped her gaze. She’d known her father wouldn’t approve, so she’d kept their relationship a secret. He had never approved of anyone he thought didn’t match her financial status. She wasn’t proud of her decision, but she hadn’t wanted her father’s negativity to sully what she saw as something beautiful and special, which she’d wanted to protect and savor.
Carlos caught her chin and forced her to look at him. Blazing anger had replaced the playful light from before. “I get it, Carmen, but it doesn’t make it any easier.”
He stalked away, and she followed behind much more slowly.
They didn’t get the chocolate-covered strawberries or stop at the wine store to purchase the celebratory champagne. They completed the ride back to Inman Park primarily in silence, and when they entered the loft—also in silence—Carlos began prepping for dinner. He removed the vegetables from the tote bag and set them on the counter. Then he banged a pot onto the stove with such force, Carmen jumped.
“Can we talk about this?” she asked, as he moved around the kitchen.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Obviously there is. You slammed the pot, and I don’t like the way you’re holding that knife.”
Carlos slammed the knife onto the cutting board and gripped the edge of the counter. Body taut as tension wire, he stared out the window.
“I love you.” He said the words almost as if he were reminding himself.
“But?” Carmen prompted softly.
His gaze slid to her, and there was still anger there, but not like before. “But nothing. I love you. That’s it. Nothing will change that.”
“I love you, too.”
His jaw hardened.
“I do,” she insisted, wanting—needing to erase all doubt. She reached for him, gliding a hand up the side of his neck and over his hair. “Let me show you.”
His nostrils flared as he placed a firm hand at the back of her neck and drew her hard against him. Backing her against the stainless steel refrigerator door, he seized her mouth. His free hand covered and squeezed her breast, sending shards of pleasure shooting across her skin.
With a soft moan, she tipped her head back and arched her spine, her whole body contracting with the enormity of her desire for him.
He used his other hand to tug down her shirt and fastened his mouth onto her painfully hard nipple.
Carmen retaliated by reaching between them and stroking his hard length through his jeans.
They should talk about the incident in the market instead of using sex as a band-aid. They should perhaps establish a game plan in case she ran into someone else she knew while they were out together again.
But Carmen could barely think with Carlos’s tongue laving her nipple and his hands gripping both sides of her ass.
He lifted her from the floor and took her to the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor and then roughly removed her pants. He kissed her ear and kissed a path down the side of her neck to her collarbone.
“I’m going to spread your legs,” he whispered in a husky voice, “and eat you out until you’re crying and begging me to stop.”
Then he proceeded to remove her panties and do exactly as he promised.
12
“Carmen, it’s time.”
She rolled away to the edge of the bed and faced the window. “No.” Her voice sounded thick and filled with desolation.
Carlos dreaded this part as much as she did. The leaving, saying goodbye, not knowing when they’d see each other again. He placed a hand on her arm, and she curled into a tight ball.
“You can’t be late for your flight.” He kept his voice neutral even though letting her leave would surely gut him and he wouldn’t be able to recover for days.
When she’d left last month, he’d lain on the gray sofa, staring at an empty canvas propped against the wall, numb with misery. Talking to her on the phone helped, but barely. Video-calling helped, but barely. What they managed to do quite successfully was highlight the fact that they were apart, and though he could hear and see her, she was as distant as a dream.
He couldn’t hold her in his arms or wake up to her body curled against his. Her tearful goodbyes had only made him feel worse. He’d stayed in that semi-depressed state for almost a week, unable to work and barely able to eat, before he finally shook out of the slump.
Carlos pushed hair away from her cheek and kissed her scented skin. “I don’t want you to go either, but you have to. If you overstay without a good reason, your father might get suspicious.”
She’d picked the latest flight she could, one that would have her landing in Toronto at 12:29 a.m.
“You have business to take care of with your father when you return. He expects you to be responsible. If you miss the flight, he might not let you come back anytime soon.”
“Maybe I should stay?”
He heard the hopeful lilt in her voice but couldn’t allow her to do that, though he desperately wanted her to stay, too.
“You can’t do that,” he said gently.
He tugged on her shoulder, and she fell onto her back but refused to look at him. She stared up at the ceiling.
“I’m working on a few festivals, but I’ll come see you in a few months.”
Carmen looked at him then, and he could barely handle the depth of anguish in her brown eyes.
She sighed, as if giving up an internal fight. “What choice do we have right now?”