3. Carmen

CHAPTER 3

CARMEN

I turned the key to the back door of the library and pulled on the door to make sure it was locked. Usually, throughout the school year, the library was open twenty-four seven, especially during finals, so students had a quiet place to study. But during summer, we had limited hours. I turned and took in the quiet campus with a smile on my face.

The sky was a mixture of bright pinks and oranges. Usually, I missed the sunset, but with closing earlier and the longer summer nights, I was able to catch them a little more often. I breathed in deeply. I wasn’t a summer person. The heat and I were not buddies, but there was something different today. Maybe it’s because Mr. Tall, Dark, Stupidly Handsome, and Crazy Mysterious finally talked to you? a voice in my head quipped up. I shook the thought away.

Nope. That’s not it. Or at least I wasn’t going to admit it was. No way, no how. I didn’t do the whole getting-a-crush thing.

I was divorced and happily single.

That was how I planned on staying. We make plans, and life laughs. My mom’s words floated through my head, and I winced. I’d forgotten to ask Stella about joining me on the happy hour date my mom had set up.

“Shit,” I mumbled, stuffing my keys into my purse when a shadow cast over me. I looked up and blinked, unable to believe it was him. “Andres,” I accidently whispered and watched the stupid sexy grin on his face grow.

“You remembered my name.”

“In case I had to call campus security,” I clipped. I didn’t know why I was playing so hard to get, but there was something in me that had my hackles all bristled around him. Almost like I knew if I didn’t try and fight the visceral attraction I felt, I’d give into it, and he’d break my heart.

At thirty-four, I had already experienced my share of loss and heartache to last me a lifetime. I didn’t need any more. And the man might as well be named Toni Braxton, because he had Heartbreak Hotel written all over him.

“You’re funny.” He grinned. I opened and shut my mouth, not sure of what to say. I’d been rude to the guy, and he thought I was funny? Butterflies started to flap their wings in my belly, and instead of overthinking what that meant, I took a moment to take him in. To really soak in the sight of him.

We’d stood in front of one another at the library. But without the information desk and the small step stool I liked to use behind it, our height difference was obvious. Andres Montoya was about a foot taller, if not more, than my five-foot nothing height. Yet, he felt bigger than that somehow. The handsome man basically towered over me.

But not in an intimidating way.

Not the way I would have felt with any other man his size.

There was no hiding the muscular body that lay beneath his clothes. And the guy knew how to dress, too. Where most of the football staff, men and women, usually wore athleisure wear, Andres Montoya didn’t. He dressed like the coaches on game day. Like he was camera and runway ready at the drop of a hat.

Today, he was in a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up his sinewy muscled arms and navy-blue dress slacks that fit as if they had been tailor made for his body. Not to mention, I knew just how good they made his ass look since I’d caught myself staring at him when he walked away with the book he checked out.

If the way he dressed wasn’t bad enough, there was the way he smelled. The man smelled incredible. Whatever cologne he used smelled expensive and woodsy and completely masculine with a hint of spice. It always lingered in the air after he left the library. I would be lying if I didn’t spend a significant amount of time while on a Sephora trip over the weekend trying to figure out what he wore.

“Was there something you needed?” I asked, choosing not to comment on his whole me being funny comment.

“Nope.” He shook his head. “I was just heading home. Guess I lucked out with timing.”

“You did?”

“I think we might be neighbors,” he shared just as I turned and started to walk. Not missing a step, he walked next to me.

“I doubt that,” I mumbled, somehow fighting the temptation to look at him. Why was I so attracted to him? The pull I felt when it came to Andres was crazy. My curiosity had sparked to life as well as my body, it seemed. My breasts felt heavy and nipples tight behind my bra while wet heat started to grow between my thighs. “We haven’t had anyone move into my neighborhood,” I mustered.

“That makes sense.” My brows bunched.

“What makes sense?” I asked, confused. It felt like he enjoyed talking in riddles.

“That you wouldn’t have noticed me,” he said ominously, baiting me, and I gave in. My head turned in his direction, and I couldn’t get over how beautiful he was. Andres Montoya was easily the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on, and that was saying something. There were a bunch of hot men on campus. One in the Spanish department was called Professor Caliente by other female staff and students.

Before I could stop myself, I asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean I live behind you.” His words slowly processed in my head. “Or I think it’s behind you. I’ve seen you walk—” he started to clarify. My steps slowed down. “Not because I’m following you,” he quickly corrected, slowing his own steps down as well. “Jesus, I suck at this,” he muttered under his breath, almost to himself. “I’m coming off like a real creeper, aren’t I?”

“Was that your goal?” I asked sassily. “Because if it was, gold star, Montoya.” I stopped walking, and he did, too. I crossed my arms over my chest. I didn’t miss the way his gaze dipped down for a whisper before they connected with mine again.

“No.” He swallowed hard.

My eyes dipped to his Adam’s apple. Pronounced and proud, it bobbed up and down. The motion made something inside of me flicker to life. I shook the dark sexy thought away. Suddenly, my mouth watered for a taste of his skin. The image of my tongue running up the side of his neck, feeling his roughened scruffy skin, tasting it and the salt of his sweat, overtook my mind. Where the hell did that come from? I wondered, stepping back.

“I really wasn’t trying to be creepy,” he explained, taking the step I’d taken the wrong way. Not that I’d correct him. “I just wanted to introduce myself,” he added, and I didn’t hesitate.

“Great!” I clipped. “You did that. Are we done here?” I sounded like a bitch. I was coming off rude and completely defensive, but I couldn’t help it. That need to lick and taste his neck sparked something inside of me. Suddenly, the summer night felt hotter, my dress felt too tight, and my body felt like it was prickling with awareness from head to toe. I wiped the perspiration off my forehead. “It’s hot, and I would like to get home.”

“Right. Okay—“ It was evident Mr. Montoya was not used to being turned down. I had no idea what he wanted, but whatever he was selling, I wasn’t buying. Liar, a little voice, one that sounded a lot like the one who had brought up the idea of tasting him, mumbled in my head. “Well, umm?—“

“Good.” I turned and started moving again. His steps sounded heavy behind me, and I scowled. I kept my head held up high. I had no idea why I was ignoring him. We were both going in the same direction. By the looks of it, he’d walked to campus like I had. I wasn’t sure why I was suddenly simultaneously ticked off and turned on.

“So, being back after a couple years, I noticed the city has changed,” he said behind me, but I didn’t say a word.

He wasn’t wrong.

The small desert city had grown exponentially in the last two years. There used to be a diner that was open all day and night on the outskirts of town, plus a couple of small places off Main Street. Now there was not only a bunch of new eateries but shops and even two new bars on that same street. There was even a small music venue that was supposed to open right before school started in the fall.

“Lots of new places to eat,” he said, and I rolled my eyes. But for some reason, the pace of my steps slowed down. “Some of my old spots are gone,” he continued, unaffected by the fact I was ignoring him. “Maybe you can recommend a place?” I turned, and his lips twitched. “Please?” he quickly added, and it softened something inside of me.

“I am a terrible cook, and I don’t wanna do fast food.”

“You know there are these things called apps you can download on your phone, like Yelp?” There was no bite to my bark, and we both knew it.

“Come on, you know those reviews are either from pissed-off, bitter-ass people or the family and friends of the owners of the spots.” I had no idea why I found that funny. I laughed softly before I couldn’t stop myself. When he smiled, I noticed the lines that formed by his eyes, and I decided I liked them. They made him look almost approachable despite being devastatingly handsome. Suddenly, Andres was next to my matching steps.

“I guess you’re right.” I shrugged, turning to look forward. “What kind of food are you looking for?”

“I’m not picky,” he drawled slowly.

“That’s not helpful,” I teased with a grin on my face. One I couldn’t seem to wipe away.

“How about Mexican? What’s your favorite?”

“Mexican food?” I repeated and had to think for a moment. It was tough. There were two really good places right off Main Street and about three on the city outskirts. “Adelitas,” I shared.

“Adelitas?” A brow rose. “I don’t think I’ve seen that place.”

“You should look it up. It’s not off Main Street, but you know that diner, the one almost by the highway? Stacked?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so it’s about two blocks south from there. It’s a small place, but I swear they have the best chicken flautas I have ever tasted.”

“Flautas,” he repeated, and I nodded enthusiastically. Too enthusiastically. I stopped and tore my eyes from him and looked forward. We still had a couple of blocks until we reached professor row, and now I was stuck walking with him.

“Anyhow…” I cleared my throat. “But Raul’s Tequila and Tacos off Main Street is good, too. Especially right now with kids back home. Come September, if you don’t want to wait a long time, especially on Tuesdays, I’d recommend Adelitas.”

“Thanks.” We walked for a minute in silence. Almost like the two of us were suddenly nervous. “What’s good at Raul’s?” He broke the silence.

“Oh, man, that’s a tough one.” I had to think hard. “Everything is good. If you go for breakfast, their chilaquiles, get the red ones. Amazing! Sometimes, if you get there like early-ish lunch and ask nicely, they will still make you them.”

“So, you sweet talk and flash that pretty smile at them?” he surmised, and I felt my face warm under his compliment. I glanced at him, and sure enough, those deep dark eyes were already on me.

“That must mean you and that silver tongue of yours shouldn’t have a problem,” I sassed and tore my eyes from him. “But honestly, at Raul’s, you can never, ever go wrong with their carne asada burrito. There is something about the way they marinate the beef. It’s like it was sprinkled with magic dust. It’s delicious.” Talking about food made me hungry. We were slowly reaching professor row. The leftovers I had planned on eating for dinner didn’t sound so good anymore.

“How do you like being a librarian?” he asked, changing the subject, and I was thankful.

“I love it,” I answered easily, gazing up into his eyes. “Books are… life.” I knew how corny I sounded.

“Books are life, huh?” I was fully prepared for him to tease me, but he didn’t. Instead, there was warmth in his gaze. One I liked. A lot.

“Mhhm,” I nodded. “I mean, think about it. With books, you can literally live a thousand lives, go all over the world or even places out of it.”

“You love reading.”

“More than you can imagine,” I answered, completely honest and slightly vulnerable.

“My sister’s like you,” he shared. I hated how that piqued my interest.

“Your sister? The one who recommended the blue alien?” I pointed at the book still in his hand, and his lips twitched. Raising the book between us, he smiled.

“Yeah, that’s the one. She’s my only sibling. She helped put up those little free libraries around town.” I stopped mid-step, and without missing a beat, as if he was completely in tuned with me, he stopped, too.

“Your sister did that? Wait, I thought it was a student who had done that?”

“She just graduated from here.” I blinked trying to make sense of it. The guy was older. As if guessing my confusion, he filled in the blanks. “My sister was a happy surprise. Or that’s what my mom liked to call her.” He shrugged. I pressed my lips together.

“The age difference must be hard.” I couldn’t imagine having a twenty-something-year-old sibling. What would we even have in common? My brothers were older, but the difference between the oldest and me was only seven years.

“Meh? Kinda.” He shrugged, but a flash of sadness appeared behind his eyes. “In a way, it was a blessing in disguise. I was more like her dad.”

“Oh?”

“My parents, umm…” He cleared his throat. “They passed right before I graduated from here.” He cleared his throat again. “I took custody of her after that.” The vulnerability in his voice was clear. There was no way he was faking that. And by the way he looked at me, like a deer caught in headlights, I knew he hadn’t meant to share that much, or he wasn’t used to sharing.

I had no idea why I reached for his hand and wrapped mine around his. When our eyes connected, words failed me. I simply squeezed. “That couldn’t have been easy.”

“For either of us.” He swallowed. “I wasn’t the greatest… anything, really. I wasn’t good at the whole helping raise a kid thing. She’d agree, too.”

“But I mean… she graduated college. She put up a little free library around town, a couple of times if I remember right. I don’t think you did a terrible job if she did all that.”

“So, do you have siblings?” He changed the subject yet again.

“Yes. Three older pain-in-the-butt brothers.” I winked. “But good try changing the subject.”

“I wasn’t.” He chuckled. Andres kind of blushed when I shot him a challenging look. “Okay, fine, I was. I’m not used to talking about all that.”

“Not even with your sister?” I was probably prying a little too much. The man had walking red flag written all over him, after all. But in the best way possible , the lust-filled wanton goddess inside of me whispered. Why not get to know him a little better?

“Not even with her,” he admitted, and something inside of me softened. I squeezed the hand I was still holding. Without thinking, I started talking, opening myself to the stranger who had all but admitted he had been following me around. Hadn’t he?

“It happens. Sometimes, we shut the world out to protect ourselves without even realizing, it and when we do, it’s like…” I was at a loss for words. His eyes were gentle on mine, and I wasn’t sure if it was me who leaned in closer or him or the two of us at the exact same time.

“You’re stuck?” he filled in the blank for me. I nodded, unable to breathe or string three letters together. “Like you don’t know how to open up to anyone anymore.”

“Exactly,” I mumbled. Something was happening between us. The air was warmer, thicker. Electricity whispered between us in the most raw and beautiful way.

Suddenly, I felt too exposed.

And awkward. God, I was so awkward! Especially after my divorce.

His eyes deepened, and when his free hand rose between us, I flinched. Something washed over his face. He knows. He knew what I’d been through. What that flinch meant. Embarrassment and self-loathing washed over me like an unwelcome blanket on a hot, humid summer day.

I dropped his hand immediately and crossed my arms over my chest. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, to explain it wasn’t him I was scared of, but the past that didn’t seem to want to let go of me.

But I couldn’t spit out the words, and I felt like an idiot. So, I did the only thing I could think of: I started to walk. For a moment, I didn’t think he was going to follow me. It was stupid; we were both headed in the same direction. After a beat, the heavy sound of his footsteps sounded right behind me. I felt like a jerk. He’d been nice. Opened up to me. And I had flinched when he tried to touch me! Maybe that’s a good thing? It’d keep him away. He’d realize I was damaged goods and quit being there every time I looked up.

But it seemed Andres Montoya wasn’t one to quit that easily.

Before I knew it, he had caught up, walking right next to me. his steps easily matching mine. I didn’t dare look in his direction. If I did, he’d see it. The truth, and the shame that went with it. Nope. No, sir, I was not going to do that. I didn’t date for a lot of reasons, but the biggest was because I didn’t trust myself anymore. I didn’t trust others. Not when my sexual preferences weren’t exactly vanilla. The idea of putting so much control and power in a partner’s hands after my ex… it wasn’t for me.

No matter how much I missed that aspect of my life.

Being single, living my life with Stitch, and the friends I worked with was more than enough for me. Andres didn’t say a word either. He let me be in my thoughts, and not long after that, we were reaching the part where if he really lived behind me, he’d turn. Make a right and head down toward his own place.

But he didn’t.

He simply walked next to me and stopped before I turned to walk down the path to my house.

“You didn’t have to follow me home,” I mumbled softly, my eyes on the ground. God, where is the woman I have been building up? The one who didn’t take shit from anyone. The one who dressed colorfully because she was damned if she would be muted again.

“Carmen, would you like to have dinner with me?” His offer surprised me. I couldn’t stop my gaze when it left the ground and connected with his dark penetrating one.

“What?”

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he repeated. There wasn’t an ounce of pity in his stare. I didn’t know what to expect. Liar, you were expecting him to hightail it from your high-maintenance, way too broken, complicated mess!

“No,” I answered and ignored how disappointed I felt. “I should get going. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Montoya.” I extended my hand, and he looked at it. I could tell he didn’t like to be turned down, and I fully expected him to try again.

If he did, I’d know he was just like my ex. Pushy and demanding. Asking too much from me and always needing to have his way.

But Andres didn’t.

Instead, he took my hand. It was warm and rough. My eyes dropped from his to look at our hands together. There was something beautiful about his. Tanned and big. So much bigger than any other man’s I’d ever noticed. I could feel the calloused skin on his palm, and something inside me tingled. Wondered what it would feel all over my body. The thought heated the very core of me.

Something that hadn’t happened in a long time.

“It was nice to meet you, too. Thanks for help with the book.” He lifted it between us, and I found myself relaxing. And instantly regretting having turned him down.

“Right.” My smile wobbled, and I shook the emotion away. “Hope you, umm… enjoy it. It’s a good one. It’s a great series,” I rambled. “I should probably get going.”

“Right,” he said, but we didn’t move. Neither of us. We just stood there looking at one another as something built between us. A heady energy that made everything in my body throb. Andres’ square jaw clenched, and I wanted nothing more than to move up on the tips of my toes and lick that line. To taste him.

Mine, a little voice whispered. The possessive thought had me stepping back and letting go of his hand.

“Well.” I shut my mouth and waved before I turned and walked to my front door. It took me a moment to find the keys in my tote bag, and after I opened the door and stepped inside, I looked out before I shut the door.

Andres Montoya stood right where I had left him.

Like a sentry. Watching over me with an intense expression I was not going to overanalyze. I closed the door and exhaled roughly.

“What the hell was that all about?” I whispered but didn’t have time to think when Stitch’s footsteps echoed against the tiled floor. He rushed over and barked, letting me know it was time for me to take him out and get him fed.