They spent the next few minutes making plans. The upcoming weekend was no good for either of them, so they scheduled for the following Friday.
Vivian checked her watch. “I really should get back to work.”
“Okay. I have to get going, too. I’m getting Hamilton settled into his new place.”
“That’s great.” Vivian thought back to the conversation she’d overheard between him and Hamilton. Hamilton hadn’t sounded too interested, but apparently Alonso had changed his mind. If Alonso was that good at persuasion, maybe she should rethink this dinner thing. “How is Hamilton? No sodas, right?”
Alonso chuckled. “He’s good. And no sodas.”
She wasn’t sure she believed him about the soda part. “That’s good. That’s really good.” Things fell silent. What the hell was she doing? Why had she convinced herself any of this would be okay?
“Hey. You okay?”
Vivian snapped from her thoughts. Smiling, she said, “Yes. I was just thinking about how happy I am that Hamilton—” Her words trailed off seeing the wide grin on Alonso’s face. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s something. What?”
“I just like the way someone else’s fortune brings you happiness. It’s refreshing.”
Something tender flashed in his eyes and for a brief moment, it blinded her to the fact she didn’t fully trust his motives. “I just like seeing people make changes for the better. Tell Hamilton I said hello.”
“Will do.”
Alonso sauntered away, leaving his manly scent behind for Vivian to appreciate. If she had any sense at all, she’d run far, far away from the man, instead of sprinting toward him.
Heavy rain pelleted Vivian’s bedroom window, effects from the hurricane forming off the coast. This weather was unfit for anyone to venture out in. Her thoughts went to Hamilton. Thank God Alonso convinced him to get off the streets.
Unfortunately, Hamilton was only one of many. The thought of anyone suffering through this storm saddened her. What soothed her was the fact that the homeless had unique ways of braving the elements.
Lifting her cell phone from the nightstand, she scrolled through her contact list until coming to Alonso’s name. They’d have to reschedule their evening. She didn’t like driving in the rain, and even if she did, it would take an act of God to drag her from the dry comfort of her home.
A wave of disappointment washed over her as the phone rang in her ear. Had she actually been looking forward to spending an evening with Alonso? She groaned. Yes, she had. All the more reason to cancel.
Alonso answered on the fourth ring. At least she thought it was Alonso. The masculine voice on the opposite end was heavy. “Alonso?”
“Hey.”
“You didn’t sound like yourself.”
“Sorry. I was on the treadmill. I’m a little winded.”
An image of him bare chested and glistening played in her head. Shaking off the enticing visual, she refocused on the call. “Um, with the weather being so nasty, I think it’s best if we reschedule. I don’t drive—”
“I’ll come to you. I really should be picking you up anyway, instead of you meeting me. That’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”
She’d suggested meeting him as a precaution. If by chance the night went horribly wrong, she’d have her own vehicle and could make a clean getaway. Him coming there? Probably not a good idea.
“Even better,” he continued, “we don’t have to go out at all. I can pick something up. What do you say?”
He seemed awfully determined to not allow her to cancel. Had he spent the past two weeks looking forward to this, too? The notion brought a hint of a smile to her lips. Make a decision, Vivian. Yes or no.
“Um...okay. Sure, that’s fine.” What was it about this man that forced her to push all rational thinking aside?
“Great. So...what would you like for me to pick up?”
“You’re good with details. Surprise me.”
“You should know I like a challenge. I’ll see you soon.”
They ended the call and Vivian collapsed onto the bed, pulled a pillow over her face and pretended to smother herself. “What have you gotten yourself into, Vivian Gayle Moore? You know you should have said no. Hell, no, to be precise.”
Well, at least the night could be beneficial. Once Alonso discovered they had absolutely nothing in common, he’d vanish from her life. But what if they did have things in common? It didn’t matter if they did. This wasn’t a love connection, she reminded herself.
And how could they have anything in common? He’d probably never struggled a day in his life.
She’d struggled plenty.
He struck her as black-tie.
She was definitely casual Friday.
He was luxury.
She was... Well, she was luxury, too, but in a certified preowned type of way.
“Nope. Nothing at all in common.”
Springing forward, she sat on the edge of the bed. One upside, she didn’t have to get all dolled up to sit in her living room. “Jeans and a T-shirt it is.”
Thunder cracked, followed by several fingers of lightning that lit her bedroom, then more thunder. “Jesus.” When the lights flickered she went in search of candles. Just in case. She ignored the romantic value of a candlelit dinner with Alonso. “You are pathetic, Vivian Moore.”
Two hours later, Vivian welcomed a drenched Alonso into her dimly lit home. “Good grief. You’re soaked.” As if he needed her to point that out to him. “Let me help you with those.” She took two of the four bags he carried.
“It’s awfully cozy in here. I like it.”
“The storm knocked out the power. What is all of this?” she asked, setting the bags on the coffee table.
“Food from your favorite restaurant.”
“My favorite rest—” Just then, she saw the Caliente Mexicana logo. “How did—” She stopped abruptly.
“Details,” they said in unison.
Damn, he was good.
“You and the owner of the restaurant seemed familiar, so I assumed you frequented the place. And if you frequented the place, it must be your favorite. At least one of them.”
“Do you pay this close attention to everyone you meet?” She laughed, but sobered when she noted the stern expression on Alonso’s face.
“No, I don’t.”
Alonso’s eyes lowered to her mouth, and a warm sensation blossomed in her stomach. “Umm...let’s get you out of these wet clothes before you catch pneumonia.” A corner of his mouth lifted into a roguish smile, and she shook her head. “Whatever outlandish thoughts are racing through that head of yours, stop them.”
He shrugged. “What? I just like the idea of you...”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“...wanting to keep me healthy. You thought I was going to say ‘undressing me,’ didn’t you?”
“No.”
“Yeah, right.” He wagged