“Didn’t I always?”
“Yes, you did. You were always very supportive, and I appreciated that.”
She glanced down at her feet, as if embarrassed by the compliment. But what he said was true. She had always been supportive and simply encouraging.
Other than his family, she was the one person he could count on to make him feel as if he wasn’t wasting his time with his dreams about being an artist. She made him believe that the talent he had acquired without any formal training was worth exploring and pursuing as a career.
“Where do you want to start?”
“How about right there?” She pointed at a woman drawing caricatures using charcoal.
They strolled over to the booth and so began the night visiting with the vendors and buying gifts for themselves and family. They lingered at some tables longer than others, and sometimes Carlos talked shop with the other artists and explained a technique to Carmen when she inquired about a vendor’s handiwork. They indulged in the hors d’oeuvres, and when Carlos ran into people he knew on two separate occasions, he introduced them to Carmen by referring to her as a friend—a classification that didn’t come close to summing up how much she meant to him.
A couple of hours later, they sauntered out of the warehouse and waited at the side of the road for Franklin to arrive.
“That was nice,” Carmen said.
“Yeah. Natalie did a good job.”
She nodded, and in the silence, his mind raced with all kinds of thoughts, the main one being that he couldn’t let her go without confirmation that she’d see him again.
“Come by my apartment. I want you to see my work.” The light from the warehouse backlit them and cast her face in shadow.
“I would like that,” Carmen said quietly.
Anticipation built in his chest. “How about seven, Friday night?”
“Seven is fine.” A soft smile touched her lips. Those luscious lips he longed to kiss.
“Good.” He was too excited about the prospect of spending time with her alone and was a little embarrassed by how much he looked forward to it. “I’ll make dinner—lomo saltado.”
At the mention of the typical dish from Peru, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “You know how to make that now?”
“Yes, my mother finally parted with her recipe.” He smiled, which prompted the corners of her beautiful lips to lift, too. “I’ll text you the address.”
“Okay.”
“You’re really coming, right?”
“Yes, I’m coming,” Carmen said, the smile still firmly in place.
The Navigator pulled up, but instead of having Franklin get out and open the door, Carlos did the honors.
“Good night,” he said, looking down at Carmen.
“Good night.”
She stepped up on tiptoe, and he bent his head so she could plant a soft skin on his cheek. The whole side of his face heated with warmth.
He helped her into the back of the vehicle with all her packages. “See you Friday night.”
She nodded, and he closed the door.
Carlos stared at the SUV as it rolled out of the parking lot. A second chance with Carmen. Could that really happen? He touched the spot where she’d kissed his cheek.
Maybe.
4
As Franklin pulled to a stop in front of Carlos’s building, Carmen double-checked her make-up in her compact. Her lashes looked amazing, and her lipstick was on point. She’d left her hair loose in fluffy curls that framed her face and curled against her neck.
Franklin rounded the front of the SUV and opened the door. She hopped out and looked up at his firmly set features, which were filled with disapproval.
“This is between you and me,” she said in a hard voice.
She couldn’t see his eyes behind the dark glasses but knew he was looking at her because his head tilted down.
“Your father wouldn’t approve of this, Miss Reeves,” he said in his heavy baritone, even heavier because he didn’t like what she was about to do.
“My father doesn’t have to know about my visit with Carlos. Don’t say a word, understand?”
He slammed the door shut.
“Franklin.” She spoke in a harder tone now.
“I understand, Miss Reeves.” A muscle in his jaw ticked.
“Good. And another thing, you can go home. I’ll catch a cab when I’m ready to go back to Nat’s.”
He observed her in silence.
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Very well,” he said in a clipped voice.
Carmen walked to the door, punched in the code Carlos had given her, and entered the building. Once inside, she waved at Franklin through the closing glass door, who had waited on the sidewalk beside the car to make sure she’d safely entered the building. He nodded and walked around to the driver’s side of the car.
She didn’t stick around to see him drive away. Instead of taking the elevator, she took the stairs to the second floor and turned the corner. Carlos had given her his apartment number, but with only a small number of apartments in the building, she easily found his.
She didn’t know what to expect this evening and walked to the door, running clammy hands down her hips. Nauseous, her insides undulated like waves. Why was she so nervous? Because she wanted him to like what he saw. Because she’d come here with memories of heated kisses and torrid interludes in secret. They had never been able to keep their hands off each other, and after three long years, she wondered if that had changed.
She’d taken great care with her appearance. In addition to a layered trim and style, she wore a strapless romper that tapered to her tight calves and showed off her toned arms. The floral print hugged her hips and ass, and the elastic waistband emphasized the curve in her waist. In addition, she smelled good and her nails were done. She didn’t know what the outcome of tonight would be, but she secretly hoped it included wild, uninhibited sex that gave her plenty of memories to take back to Canada and get her through the humdrum nights sure to follow.
Carmen wiggled her fingers nervously and then knocked on the metal door. When Carlos opened it, her heart thudded a more rapid, relentless beat in her chest, as if she hadn’t been expecting him.
“I’m here,” she said breathlessly, cheeks heating with the way his dark eyes deliberately drifted over her body.
Carlos smiled as if her arrival was the best news he’d heard in a long time. “Come on in.”
Carmen shoved her hands into the romper pockets and walked slowly into the apartment, high heels clicking on the slate gray tile. The first thing she saw was a white cat with a burgundy collar strolling across the floor.
“That’s Sofia. Ignore her, because she’ll ignore you,” he said.
The joke eased the tension, and she laughed, letting him lead the way into the middle of what would be considered a living room, but the loft was one gigantic space with no separation of rooms.
“Let me show you around. Over there is the kitchen.” Open shelves displayed glass dishes and small kitchen appliances. Stainless steel appliances lined one wall, with a huge window that ran the length of the sink and part of the granite countertop.
Carmen sniffed the air. “Mmm. The food smells delicious.”