Her Accidental Husband (9 page)

“
Si
, senor. She only returned half an hour ago.”

Returned from where? He supposed he should just feel relieved she was back at the hotel, safe and sound, since who knew what kind of trouble that woman could get into alone.

But he felt anything but.

Probably because he was too stressed wondering how the hell he was going to share a room with Payton Vaughn and not do anything he’d regret.

Thanking the two again, he went down the hall in the direction they’d pointed and climbed the three flights of stairs. How was he going to explain this one to Dick Eastman?

He slid the key in and turned the knob, deciding he should probably knock and give her a quick head’s up before just stepping in unannounced.

“Cruz? I’ll be out in a minute,” she called from the bathroom.

“All right,” he said and shut the door, taking in the room that was as unique and interesting as the hotel. Dark terra cotta tiles polished to a near shine covered the floor, only broken up by a couple of bright rugs. The bed—a queen—was covered with a dark red and white paisley cover. Paintings in vibrant colors interspersed with masks covered the walls, giving the whole thing an eclectic feeling. And from where he was standing, he could even see beyond the window and the door that led to a small balcony to the town square below them. Nice.

If only he could stop staring at that damn bed.

“I thought for sure that you’d have finagled us into two separate rooms somehow.” He dropped his laptop bag on a chair in the corner and pulled out the cord and computer, searching the room for somewhere to charge it.

“I tried. But after Bev made a big deal with the front desk about our predicament and pending nuptials, it didn’t seem like the right time to say we wanted separate rooms.” She paused and he heard some clatter. “Tell me about the car. Can they fix it?”

“Yeah.” He thought about the extra incentive he offered the guy to guarantee it would be ready to go bright and early. It had better be ready—and possibly have a new paint job and stereo for what it cost him. “We’ll be out of here by seven tomorrow morning, at the latest.”

He found the outlet and plugged in the laptop and then his cell phone. He took a seat, ready to scroll through his incoming email.

“Oh, thank God. I already feel terrible I’m missing tonight. The rehearsal. The party. I’m going to have to throw Kate something post-wedding—I don’t care if she’ll already be married. How did she and Dominic take it?”

“I didn’t give them the details—no sense worrying them. Just let them know we had some car trouble but would be back on the road in the morning and we would see them for sure by afternoon.” He scanned three emails from subcontractors, trying to confirm if the Eastman Motors contract was signed and their services would be needed. “They’re going to hold off lunch until we’re there.”

“Then we’d better not disappoint them,” she said, still preoccupied in the bathroom. “I had an interesting hour out shopping with Bev and Patty and the others. This tour they’re on, did you know what it’s for? What they’re doing tonight for their performance?”

“Hadn’t really thought about it.”

“They’re square dancers. They’re booked here tonight and have six more events in the next two weeks across Mexico. Who’d have thought? Anyhow, they’re going to be meeting down in the lobby in fifteen minutes to make it to the tequila distillery. You know, if we wanted to go with them. I was thinking it might be fun,” she said from the doorway of the bathroom.

He looked up.

Dear God Almighty. The woman really was going to make this evening as hard on him as possible.

“I picked up a few things, too, while we were out. I couldn’t stand the thought of wearing the same outfit again tonight and when I saw this in the shop window, I couldn’t resist. It’s not usually my style, but it just seemed to…speak to me. What do you think?”

Caliente red. That’s the color of the dress.

Caliente was the word that fit how hot and delectable and downright tempting the woman inside the dress was.

It was short—but not too short—and skimmed that sweet little body like a second skin until it reached mid-thigh, where it flared loose and soft. As a tease, the fabric crossed one shoulder at the top, but left the other bare. And her hair. Soft and full with one piece that fell in front of her eye, even after she tried to pull it away. Her lips were almost the same shade as the dress and smiling a little uncertainly at him. Eyes, dazzling green, looked back at him with the same uncertainty.

“Well? Is it too much? Lord knows what my mother would think if she caught sight of me in it, which might be why I was drawn to it. But now… I’m afraid I might have let Bev’s and Patty’s compliments go to my head. I don’t look like a hooker, do I?”

He blinked and cleared his throat. “No. I can safely say you don’t look like a hooker.” But she did look like a dream. A dream that would have every man within twenty feet ogling to see more of, to maybe even touch her. To see if that mouth was as hot and enticing as the rest of her…

He had to stop.

Realizing she still needed some reassurance, he forced his voice to sound even and unaffected, though he felt a stirring that was going to make the one bed even more hellish. He’d better get used to this chair. He was going to sleep in it, if he knew what was good for him.

“You look damn sexy, and you very well know it.”

Her smile dropped the shyness and it was like someone plugged her in because she was positively glowing now. “Why thank you, Mr. Sorensen. But don’t let me stop you, if you want to turn my head a little more…”

“And ruin the perfectly antagonistic relationship we’ve developed after all this time? God forbid.”

But it didn’t feel antagonistic anymore. In fact, as they stared at each other from across the room, the heat and magnetism between them was almost palpable. What he wouldn’t give to be any other guy than the one he was now, one who had nothing to lose by closing the distance and showing this woman just how much he wanted her.

It was her turn to clear her throat a little nervously. “Well, I think the tour starts in twenty minutes. Did you need the bathroom to clean up or anything?”

Hell yeah, he needed the bathroom. He needed some time to get a grip on himself and some space away from her.

“Yeah. I’m going to need a shower,” he said and stood, leaving the laptop on the chair and grabbing the smaller bag of personal items he kept in the laptop carrier.

How was he going to keep his vow to his family, Dick Eastman, and himself most of all, and deliver Payton safe and sound when the thoughts crossing his mind would shock them all.

A few minutes later, when he left the steamy bathroom, he found her standing on their balcony. The sun was close to setting and shone a golden glow on her hair. She looked over at him and he came to join her, the sound of music and crowds growing stronger as he did.

“It’s the prettiest view, I’m sure,” she said.

She only knew the half of it.

He willed himself to look out past the woman before him to the plaza and festivities that were bound to continue throughout the night. “Prettiest view but no doubt also the loudest. We’ll be lucky to get any sleep, even with the window closed.”

She laughed. “Lighten up. It’s going to be fun. You ready to head down?”

“Not really. But there’s no way I’m going to trust you not to get into trouble. So I might as well stay close.” He sounded chagrined and annoyed.

“What has you in such a foul mood? I don’t need a babysitter. If you want to stay, feel free.” He couldn’t mistake the flash of anger in those eyes. “I’ve survived this long without you shadowing me. I think I can manage a little longer.”

“Miraculously,” he muttered.

He was being kind of a jerk and he reminded himself it wasn’t her fault if, since he met her, everything seemed to go wrong. He also was aware enough that his curmudgeonly attitude was a cover. To hide the fact that the prospect of spending the evening with Payton Vaughan excited him more than any date he’d had in the past five years. Probably longer.

“And don’t forget that just managing not to look like you’re about to strangle me isn’t enough.” She smiled sweetly at him. “You have to pretend that I’m the best thing to happen to you, so much so that you plan to spend the rest of your life with me.”

He rolled his eyes and grumbled, “No thanks to you.”

Truth of it was, it probably wasn’t going to be something he’d have to pretend very hard at.

Chapter Nine

F
or a liquor that Payton didn’t care much for unless it was chased down with salt and a lime and another drink, the tour of the purple-hued agave fields and the distillery had been fascinating. The worker in cowboy boots and a wide rimmed hat had made quick work of digging out what had looked like an overgrown pineapple from the ground. He’d made it look so easy that it became comical when Lenny and a few others tried to imitate his actions when invited to harvest an agave plant.

It was definitely harder than it looked. She’d even seen Cruz crack a smile at the theatrics. Probably made more humorous by the fact that the men and women were all bedecked in their square-dancing finery. The women in full ruffled blue skirts and the men in matching blue shirts.

Finished with the tour, they had been escorted down into what looked like a cavern, but lit by soft lighting and candles, it felt almost magical. The large round table where they sat was surrounded with chairs carved from old oak barrels, adding to the ambiance.

Up to now, Payton had been surrounded by the women of the group as they were whisked through the fields in golf carts and then walked through the distillery, but she was ever conscious of Cruz’s presence behind her. Certain he was watching her. With those dark, swoon-worthy eyes that felt like they could see right inside her head. Now, as they took their seats, the couples paired off, and she couldn’t avoid him any longer.

They were, after all, supposed to be a couple. In love.

Their server circled the table, a bottle of tequila in hand. He poured a little of the whiter, less-aged product into her glass and invited them to smell the liquor’s distinctive aroma, to notice how the liquid clung to the glass, showing it’s sweetness.

Payton stared into the glass with some trepidation. No chaser was around today, and she was certain she would probably offend them if she even asked for one. Cruz took a sip and nodded. He looked back at her with some amusement in those dark brown eyes.

“Gonna give it a try?”

When he looked at her like that, his eyes almost dreamy and languid in the dim lighting, she’d do about anything. She sipped and immediately grimaced as the liquid burned its way down. But the aftertaste…well, it actually wasn’t so bad. Light. Flavorful. She maybe even liked it.

The burning in her belly grew hotter as Cruz looked at her in approval. He had to stop looking at her like that. It was unnerving.

Then there was the fact that now, ensconced so close to each other, it was hard to miss the faint smell of soap and aftershave that clung to his skin. The familiar leather and incense that conjured up a dark bedroom, satin sheets, and all the sorts of forbidden thoughts that were more appropriate to
Fifty Shades of Grey
than her life.

The server returned with another bottle, more amber than gold that he called an
anejo
that was aged a minimum of a year. She let him pour it but held off on drinking it until she had some food in her stomach so as not to repeat yesterday’s unpleasantries. And to make certain she didn’t do anything crazy, like lean across the space dividing her and Cruz and lick the dark crevice under his jaw. Something that may have passed her mind a time or two in the past five minutes.

“So tell us,” Patti said over the din around the table and pulling her gaze from the dark figure next to her. “How did you two meet?”

She met Cruz’s eyes but looked away quickly. The image of him standing at the door of the flower shop that night flashed in her mind. Remembering the way her heart had hammered like some cartoon character at the way he looked at her.

She took a tiny sip of her drink, needing a little more fortitude.

“Funny story.” She cleared her throat. “His brother, Dominic, had just gotten engaged to my best friend, and to surprise his new fiancée, Dom had planned a surprise party. Before that day, we had never met each other, so when we ran into each other at the florist the night of the party, we were complete strangers.”

Bev and the other women leaned in, smiling encouragingly at her. Cruz was still silent, though. Listening. Up to now, neither of them had ever acknowledged the fact that they had met each other there, before their later, less fortunate, introduction.

“So there I was waiting for the lady to grab the bouquet I’d ordered from the cooler in the back when the bell rang over the door. I turned around to see Cruz standing there, looking so tall and impossibly big that he filled the doorway. He was soaking wet—it had been raining that night—water dripping down his face, his hair slicked back all dark and delicious. He walked so purposely toward me, and I worried he could hear my heart pounding as his gaze stayed on mine the entire time.”

“It was hard to take my eyes off of her.” His voice intruded, low and husky, and she froze as he took over, not daring to look at him. But his words washed over her, hot and thrilling. “She was wearing a long emerald gown—the color of her eyes.” That’s right. She’d been coming from a fundraiser she had chaired for Primary Children’s Hospital. “She was breathtaking. And that was before she smiled.”

There was a long pause and she realized that he was waiting for her now. To hear her version of things. “We made small talk, about the weather and it being unseasonably warm for January. But there was some strange pull between us, even as we talked about nothing. I think he mentioned something about
Singin’ In the Rain
. The movie?” She caught a glimpse at him from the corner of her eyes, saw him nodding as he remembered as well. “When the woman returned with my flowers, I was suddenly loath to go.”

But she’d also been engaged at that time. And the feelings she was experiencing, although thrilling and exciting, were foreign and entirely inappropriate. “But I was still in a relationship with someone, so it wasn’t like I could just ask for his number. In fact, I was so flustered, I thanked the woman and, turning to Cruz, told him I hoped he had a good night. To be honest, as I left, I was a bit disappointed that he didn’t stop me. Didn’t ask me for my number or at least my name.”

“Not that I didn’t want to,” Cruz said. “But I was already late with the flowers my brother had wanted so I grabbed the order and started back. She was on my mind the entire drive, though, and before I arrived I’d already decided to go back to the shop to convince them to tell me what they knew about her. A name, anything.”

He had?
She turned finally to look at him, his eyes so dark but soft as he stared at her. There was that faintest smile on his lips again and she caught her breath.

“So imagine my surprise when a few minutes later, at the party, I turned around to find the same beautiful woman from the flower shop standing there with the flowers she’d left with. Yellow roses.” He didn’t go on to describe what he’d said and the crack that followed when she’d smacked his head with the vase. Accidentally. They both remembered that and what happened from there all too well.

“It’s like it was fate. Kismet. The two of you meeting like that,” Bev said and wiped a tear away. Payton might have had a few that were ready to drop as well.

She’d never known, all this time, if she’d imagined their connection or not. She didn’t have to wonder that anymore.

He’d planned on finding her.

“To kismet.” It was Lenny, holding his glass of tequila up, inviting everyone to join in his toast.

She paused before taking her own glass and met Cruz’s eyes again.

“To kismet,” they all repeated, glasses clanging. It was with some relief that she closed her eyes and tossed the rest of the contents down, the heat blazing a trail down to her belly that was already on fire.

When she opened them, it was to find Cruz looking at her more bemused. Speculative.

Time to regroup. “And that, ladies, is why I agreed to marry the knucklehead. He’s a man of few words except when it really counts. And when he does, every word has meaning.”

They all laughed but she felt Cruz’s gaze steady on her.

“Then there’s the fact his eyes positively burn whenever they settle on you,” Bev said next to her. “It doesn’t take a lot of words for a man to truly express how he feels about a woman, and I’d say your man here wouldn’t need a lot of them when he’s staring at you in that way. Like he’s going to incinerate you with that smolder.” The woman waved her hand as if her face were on fire and everyone laughed.

But the words gave Payton a moment’s pause. Was that true? Did he look at her, stare at her, like he really wanted her that way? No. Not anymore. Not since that first meeting, when there had been possibilities.

These people were only seeing what they wanted to see.

She laughed with everyone else but knew her cheeks were warm.

“Can anyone blame me?” Cruz’s hand settled on hers resting on the table, and her entire body tensed at the touch.

She found the courage to raise her gaze to his. He did seem to be looking at her exactly as they all described—with need. Desire. But was it real? Or an act to appease them?

It didn’t matter. Because she knew that over the course of the last few minutes, both of them lost in the events of that first night, something had irrevocably changed between them.

Something that had her breathing coming shorter and shallower. Wanting more than the touch of his hand resting on hers.

The first jarring beats of a mariachi band pulled her from her thoughts and all eyes turned to the troupe who had arrived at their table.

Cruz hadn’t taken his hand off hers. He leaned over, his breath a whisper at her ear. “Wouldn’t want to look like anything less than a happy couple. How’m I doing?”

She swallowed and bobbed her head, not daring to look into those eyes in case he could read her mind.

“Just fine.”

C
ruz sucked in the night air as they left the restaurant and walked out onto the sidewalk, Payton at his side as they joined the other revelers. Their troupe of dancer friends had left them at the door so they could check in for the night’s festivities, and now it was just the two of them.

He took in a deep breath, the cool air feeling fresh and sharp in his lungs. He needed to clear his head, having consumed four shots of tequila already. More than his limit, but at the time, the flavor and taste a welcome diversion from the feeling of having Payton nestled under his arm while they kept up the pretense of engaged lovers.

Payton was silent next to him, her steps a little less certain, and he slowed his pace to hers. They needed to keep better track of their alcohol intake if they were going to keep their heads.

He thought about what Payton had said earlier, while recounting their first meeting. He’d been certain that she’d never given him a second thought that night, not with the way she’d rushed out of the shop so fast, before he could even catch her name.

But it hadn’t stopped him from thinking about her. He’d meant what he said about wanting to find her that night. He’d already had a great line in mind to use to finagle her details from the cashier.

All this time, he’d concluded he’d imagined their connection. But he’d been wrong. There had been a moment there, a moment when they both had the opportunity for a different start. A different relationship. Until he’d opened his big mouth and not just insulted her but sealed the terms of a different type of relationship. One full of mistrust and contention.

What would have happened if it had gone differently?

They’d never know, but he did know one thing. He owed her an apology.

“Payton, about that night. What I said at the party? I didn’t know you and my comment was completely out of line. Maybe it was some lingering resentment I still had for Brad—I don’t know. But I am sorry.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and shining, not holding any indication of resentment. “I accept. And I’m sorry for clobbering you with that vase.”

He laughed. “I earned that.”

“Glad to see we agree on something.” The sound of music from up ahead began to play, and Payton hurried her steps. He reached out, grabbing her hand so as not to lose her in the burgeoning crowd. It felt nice. It seemed to fit perfectly. She glanced back at him, a knowing glint in her eye, but didn’t slow down, instead cutting through the crowds.

They reached the stage set up near the gazebo, already teeming with people, some dancing to the music that filled the warm night air. Payton seemed entranced by everything around her, smiling and laughing, throwing her head back. Her enjoyment was infectious, and he couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off his own face. It had to be the tequila.

At one point, Payton paused and stared up at the night sky. He followed her gaze. “I was just trying to see the stars.”

He noticed the way the light reflected off her hair, shining, and he wanted to touch it. He found his voice instead. “Going to have to get farther away from the lights to see them.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It just seemed like everything else was so magical, that I might catch a few.”

The shuffling of dozens of boots on the stage brought their attention up where Lenny and Bev and the rest were walking across the stage. They hesitated only a moment as the new song came on, before bursting with surprising energy, swinging and clomping around the stage. The crowd was energized as well as they clapped to the beat. Payton looked so young, so free as she clapped along with them, joy and wonder glowing on her face.

She should always look so free. So happy.

A woman in bright costume was working her way through the crowds with a tray filled with small cups that people were taking. The local refinery throwing this shindig certainly knew how to celebrate the introduction of a new line.