CHAPTER FOUR
Lucas
I was an idiot. A big sleepy idiot.
That really you or did I wake up in heaven?
Really, Lucas? Por Dios.
I didn’t need to be wide awake to know I’d regret saying that. But the corny, unoriginal, and unnecessary line left my lips before I even knew what was hitting me. I opened my eyes—or eye—and there she was. Rosie. Lina’s best friend. The girl who had charmed the entirety of the Martín family. Heart-shaped face, soft features, plush lips, and bewitching green eyes. Like she was some kind of mirage, my sleep-deprived brain was trying to determine whether she was real. And look at the shit that came out of my mouth when my head wasn’t paying attention.
“Wh— What?” Rosie mumbled when I didn’t follow my spectacular opening line with anything else. Her eyebrows curled. “Are you okay?”
Question of the year.
Willing my other eye open, I shook my head and hoped my expression was casual when I said, “The sun was shining behind you.” I pointed at the window with a hand. “It was framing your face. Like a halo.”
Rosie blinked—twice—before answering with an “Oh. Thanks?”
Muffling a chuckle at her reaction, I stretched my arms above my head. All the muscles in my back complained, stiff from spending more hours than I should have in a sitting position. I shouldn’t have stayed here for so long. I probably needed to stand up, get my legs moving and my joints working but…
Now, Rosie was here. Looking at me with a funny face. Her brows meeting with a small frown. Concerned and a little pissed.
“Are you mad at—” I started.
But at the same time, she said, “Can I ask you—”
I met her gaze, smiling to myself, and told her, “You can ask me anything.”
“I know it’s none of my business,” she said, “but… What are you doing here, Lucas? You look like… Did you—” She cleared her throat, as if she was trying to soften her tone. “Did you spend the night here?”
I didn’t want to lie to her. I’d never been very good at that. So I asked, “What do I look like?”
“Well, you look great—” She let out a strange noise before continuing, “You look fine, but you also look like… like someone who has slept in a diner.”
“Attractive in an effortless and casual way?”
“You were drooling.”
“Ouch.”
“I’m serious,” Rosie pressed.
“Oh, I believe you. And I bet I was a sight to behold.”
“You… kind of were, I guess,” she admitted with a shrug. “If you’re into sleepy, drooling men.” A pause. “Which I’m not.”
I tilted my head to the side, pretending I was considering something. “So what’s your type, then, Rosalyn Graham?”
Her eyes widened a little. “My type is—” she started, but she stopped herself. “You’re deflecting.” A pause in which her lips twisted with a pout. “You said that you would look for a hotel. You should have stayed at Lina’s if you didn’t have anywhere else to go. You should have told me instead of letting me kick you out.”
I frowned. “You didn’t kick me out,” I told her seriously. Honestly. “I left on my own.” Because I’d felt how uncomfortable she’d been in my presence last night. How thrown off she’d been by my arrival. And I wasn’t a man who felt comfortable with invading a girl’s privacy and personal space without so much as a conversation. “These are comfier than they look. Give them a try.” I held out a hand, pointing at the maroon bank across from me. “Have a seat and see for yourself. I’ll get us something to drink.”
I turned around and called for the waiter with a smile. He shot me a nod, signaling that he’d be with us in a minute.
When I faced Rosie again, she hadn’t sat down.
She hadn’t even moved.
She was too busy scowling at me.
But that scowl… it made my lips twitch. Again. Because she was pissed at me, a grown-ass man who was mostly a stranger, for sleeping at a diner. And that was sweet.
“You said you’d be fine,” Rosie reminded me in a wonky voice.
“And I’m fine.” I pointed at myself with both my hands, working extra hard to keep my tone light and hide the exhaustion from my voice. “I’ve never been finer.”
I met her gaze and winked.
Her cheeks turned pink and her scowl deepened. “The bags under your eyes tell me otherwise.”
I patted my chest. “Harsh, Rosie. You have to stop throwing punches at me or my ego won’t ever recover.”
But she didn’t budge—or smile at my attempt to joke—she only crossed her arms in front of her chest, making me notice a brown bag hanging from one of them.
After what turned into a ten-second stare down, I exhaled. Then, pointed at the seat in front of me again. “Do you have anywhere to be? Can you stay for a bit? Have that coffee with me and I’ll explain.”
She hesitated at first but then moved one tiny step forward. “I have some time. I could stay for a bit.”
The waiter appeared with two clean mugs and a pitcher of fresh coffee just as Rosie folded her body into the booth.
“I didn’t lie. Last night, I searched for a hotel,” I admitted, watching the dark brew filling our mugs. “Thank you,” I told the man with a nod before he left. “But I ran into some issues with my credit card while trying to check in and I was kindly invited to leave.”
“What kind of issues?”
I added some sugar to my coffee, stirred it, and took a sip. The deeply bitter flavor biting into my taste buds for all the wrong reasons. “My card wasn’t in my wallet. And apparently, I’m the idiot who travels with no backup so…” I shrugged a shoulder. “I have no idea where I might have dropped or left it, but all I had with me was my ID and some cash.”
Fifty dollars to be exact.
Rosie’s eyes widened, the pout returning to her mouth. “Why didn’t you come back to the apartment? I was there.”
“It was too late, Rosie,” I answered simply. “I got into the first place I found open to make some calls and I kind of dozed off. Remember the sexy drool?”
I waited for her to laugh but it never came.
Tough crowd.
I continued, “Before falling asleep, though, I contacted my bank, reported the lost card, and asked them to send a new one. But it might take some time to get here from Spain.”
“Oh, Lucas,” Rosie finally said, looking down at her mug, her shoulders falling. “That really, really sucks. And I feel—”
“There’s no reason for you to feel responsible about this, Rosie.”
She seemed to disagree but didn’t say anything. Instead, she limited herself to taking a sip of coffee. I watched her wince, jerking the mug off her lips.
Leaning forward, I lowered my voice and said, “Thank God you don’t like it, either. I was beginning to think that this was the stuff you guys have over here.”
“It’s really not,” she whispered back. “This coffee is terrible. God. How many of these have you had?”
“This is my fifth since last night.”
What I was pretty sure was guilt returned to her expression. “I’m so sorry—”
“No more of that,” I cut her off. Held my finger in front of us. “No more apologies or we’ll never be able to be friends, Rosalyn Graham.”
“Friends?”
I nodded, deciding not to delve into the way she’d said that word. As if becoming friends was something unfathomable. “So, what brings you here? I assume it’s not the décor, the beverages, or the views, if drooling men are not your thing.”
A snort left her mouth. It was a quick, sharp sound. But cute. I felt my lips bend as she shook her head. “I was leaving O’Brien’s when I saw you from across the street.” Her arm disappeared under the table and reappeared with the bag covered in greasy spots. “They have the best sausage rolls in the city. Well, they’re probably one of the few bakeries that sells them in New York. Either way, they are a Graham breakfast favorite.”
Enthralled by the scent coming off the bag, I couldn’t help but gawk at her fingers when she pulled out a shiny and crispy-looking pastry.
An intense whiff of fried dough hit my senses.
“You hungry?” I heard her ask as she held it between us.
“Nah,” I answered, even though I really was. “I’m good.”
Rosie hummed, then shocked me by stretching her arm in my direction.
I followed the motion with my gaze, then looked up at her.
“Take it,” she said, humor now dancing in her eyes. “You need it more than I do.”
“I really shouldn’t. It’s your breakfast.”
Deliberately slow, she shrugged a shoulder and inched the pastry closer to her mouth. I gawked at her parted lips, at the shiny and alluring roll, too. She halted right before closing that last inch, holding it midair. I looked up, meeting her gaze again.
My stomach growled.
“Oh,” she said. “I think I just heard your stomach trying to tell me something.”
If I hadn’t been so focused on pretending I wasn’t lusting after the sausage roll, her comment wouldn’t have caught me by surprise. But it did, and it pulled a bark of laughter right out of me.
Rosie’s mouth stretched, and she joined me with a chuckle of her own. A real one, I could tell. Finally. I liked it. “Eat it,” she ordered through her smile. “I insist, Lucas. It will make me happy if you do.”
I’ll never know what exactly tipped the balance, but I stretched an arm and took the pastry off her fingers. “Thanks, Rosie.”
Under her attentive gaze, I brought it to my lips, took a bite, and—
“Dios mío.” I moaned. “This is one of the best”—I took another bite—“things to ever bless”—and another one—“my taste buds.”
Her laughter came again.
I glanced at her, finding her eyes on me. On my lips.
“Like it?” she asked.
“Like it?” I repeated, shaking my head. “This roll deserves more than ‘like.’ ” I licked my index finger. “It deserves love.” I repeated the motion with my thumb. “It deserves to be seduced and worshipped.”
Now her cheeks were flushed, probably from secondhand embarrassment for my shameless display. But I was a passionate man when it came to food. Especially pastries.
She recovered, only the tips of her ears remaining pink. “You Martíns really have a thing for food, don’t you?”
I flashed her a grin, not caring to wipe the grease and runaway crumbs off my mouth. “Can’t speak for all of us, but if you bring me one of these every day, I might fall to my knees and swear eternal loyalty to you, Rosalyn Graham. It’d take me about a week. Probably less.”
That seemed to stun her into silence.
I tilted my head, wondering if she was that shy or just guarded around strangers. Either way, it really didn’t matter, because I wasn’t exactly deterred by any of those things. Especially after she’d fed me breakfast.
To my surprise, Rosie pulled another pastry out of the bag. “Here. Have this one, too.”
“You really are an angel straight out of heaven,” I told her, surprising myself when I realized I wasn’t lying all that much. “But I don’t deserve any more of your kindness.”
“You do,” she countered, pinning me with a serious look.
I waved a hand in front of me. “Can’t and won’t.”
“Take it, or… we won’t ever be friends. And you said… you said you wanted to, so…”
So, not that shy.
Grinning like she was giving me the world instead of a piece of deliciously greasy dough, I leaned on my elbows, getting closer to her face. I made sure to meet her gaze. “Only if we share.” I snatched the upper half of the roll. “As much as I enjoyed putting up a show for you, I’d rather not eat alone.”
Rosie seemed to consider my offer, but she eventually took the pastry to her lips. And when we were done, she pulled a third one, split it in two, and handed me a half, which I accepted with an even wider smile.
“So, Rosie…” I took a sip of my now lukewarm coffee, letting my gaze travel down her neck and taking in the off-shoulder sweater covering her upper body. I wondered if she had been headed to the office. “You work at the same firm as Lina, right? What was the name… Tech something?”
“InTech,” Rosie answered with some sort of grimace. “And I… did. Not anymore. I… It’s a long story.”
I waited for her to elaborate but even though her lips opened and closed a couple of times, she never did.
I hummed, tapping my fingers against the table. “I’ll make you a deal.”
She frowned. “A deal?”
My lips twitched. “A game. A ‘get to know each other’ game, you know. Because if we’re going to be friends, we should break the ice somehow.” I was trying my luck here, I knew that. She had no reason to share a single thing with me, but I knew stalling when I saw it. And Rosie could have been on her way already. But she was here. Sitting with me.
Rosie’s head tilted, a lock of dark hair coming out of her bun. “So, we both get to ask questions?”
I nodded. “An answer in exchange for another answer. We take turns until we make it to five. And it doesn’t matter how long the answer is. How does that sound?”
We stared at each other for a long moment, and I could see the battle in her face. She was hesitant. She also was curious.
Finally, she said, “Five questions. I can work with that.”
I nodded slowly, pushing my growing eagerness down. “Because you just fed me, and I’m a man in debt, I’ll let you start.”
Her gaze roamed around my face, one of her eyebrows dipping in thought, as if she was readying herself to uproot my deepest secrets right out me.
It was adorable. And a little scary.
She laced her fingers together and rested her hands on the table. “Where were you? Before coming to New York? You said you flew in from Phoenix.”
My shoulders relaxed. “I’ve been traveling across the States for the past six weeks.” I didn’t miss how that piece of information seemed to surprise her. “I started up north, in Portland, Oregon. Then headed south, rented a car, and drove from New Orleans to Phoenix.”
Rosie nodded her head, processing my words. Then she went with a simple, “Okay. Your turn.”
“Easy. Who were you going to share the rolls with? There were three of them, so unless you have a huge appetite…”
Averting her eyes to where the empty bag lay in a ball, she sighed. “My dad, hopefully my brother, too, but it’s a long—”
I tsked. “No breaking the rules. Long or short, I want the answer.”
She breathed out a laugh. “I am heading to Philly—Philadelphia—where Dad lives now. And I am hoping my little brother—who has been dodging all my calls for weeks because of what I suspect is something that’s either going to make me upset or mad or both—will show up. There’s something important I want to tell them. Hence, breakfast.” A soft sigh left her. “These really are Dad’s favorite. He goes crazy over them.”
I remained in silence until her gaze lifted from the table and returned to me. There was something she was leaving out. I could guess as much from her expression.
I pretended to think about something, then said, “Should I be worried your dad is going to hunt me down for tricking her daughter into feeding me his all-time favorite?”
That pulled a laugh out of her. One more time, it was short-lived, but… enough to appease me. For now. She sobered up and pinned me with a look. “Is that your second question?”
“Not the biggest fan of angry dads, so yes. That’s question number two.”
“Do you have a habit of going around pissing dads off?”
Without breaking eye contact, I leaned on my elbows. “Is that your second question?”
Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded.
“Not anymore. In the past, though? I might have angered one or two.” I winked, and I didn’t miss the way her cheeks turned pink this time around. “You owe me an answer.”
I watched her throat bob. “No, Dad won’t hunt you down. He didn’t even know I was dropping by. It was a surprise, and the rolls were my emotional leverage.”
That last part sparked my interest, but Rosie beat me to the next round.
“My turn,” she announced. “How long will you stay here? In New York.”
“Six weeks. Without applying for a visa, I can stay in the country for just three months, so I decided to make my New York stop the longest because Lina offered her place. She said she couldn’t break her lease until December and the apartment would be empty after she moved in with Aaron anyway, so…”
Rosie’s lips were pursed but I couldn’t tell why exactly, and I wouldn’t spend a question on that when there was a more important one I wanted to ask.
I rested my chin on my fist. “Why do you need emotional leverage? With your dad.”
Her chest deflated. She was quiet for so long that I thought she wasn’t going to answer, that perhaps she was done playing this game with some man who had barged into her life less than twenty-four hours ago.
But then she said, “I quit my job.” And her following words seemed to topple right out of her. “My well-paid, indefinite position as a team leader in an engineering firm. That’s why I said that I no longer worked at InTech. Because I resigned. Six months ago.” I opened my mouth to speak but more hurried words left hers. “My dad doesn’t know. Neither does my brother. Only Lina does. And Aaron, of course. Not because he’s her husband but because he was my boss and I had to hand my resignation letter to him. And everyone at the office, obviously, because I’m no longer there. So, I guess, some people know. What they don’t know is what prompted it.” She bothered her lip. “Anyway, that’s why I needed leverage with Dad. Because I’ve been… keeping this huge thing from him. And I’ve never lied to him, not ever. We’re very close. We’ve always been a team, Dad and I.”
“Will he be mad?” Something unexpected stirred in my gut. Protectiveness. I shook it off, attributing it to Rosie being my little cousin’s best friend. And to how much I hate bullies. “About you quitting? Is that why you haven’t told him?”
“Oh no. He’d never be angry at me for following my dream. Even if it’s a relatively new one.” That somehow appeased me, but it also made me all the more curious. A relatively new dream? “But I don’t think he’ll be happy about it, either. He’s always been so proud of me. Of his daughter being an engineer. Working in Manhattan. We didn’t have much growing up.” She paused. “When I graduated, it was the first time I ever saw him cry. Big, fat tears that wouldn’t stop falling. I think he cried for hours. And when I got a promotion last year, back when he was still living in Queens, he told everyone in the block. ‘My Bean leads a team now. She’s a leader!’ He threw me a party and invited the neighbors as if… I don’t know, as if his daughter had just won a Nobel Prize or something.” She shook her head with a sad smile. “He will be terrified that I’m throwing everything away for something he probably doesn’t fully grasp. That’s why I haven’t worked up the courage to tell him. I’m scared he won’t… understand and support me. And that would break my heart.”
“So, what is it?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking, craving more. “This new dream you are chasing.”
I watched Rosie all but fold into herself, her shoulders falling and her eyes leaving mine. And I knew she was pulling away. “You’ll think it’s silly.”
“There’s no such thing as silly when it comes to dreams. No matter how new or old they are.”
Those emerald-green eyes shifted to me with a new weight.
“Lay it on me, Rosalyn Graham,” I continued. “You don’t know this about me, but I don’t judge. Ever.”
Her chest rose with a deep breath. “I wrote and published a book,” she finally said. “A romance book. Over a year ago. Around the time I got the promotion.”
As if she was saying something completely ridiculous.
I frowned. “That’s amazing, Rosie. That’s more than amazing. It’s incredible, and not at all silly.”
“There’s… more to it.”
Nodding my head, I encouraged her to keep going.
“I self-published it, under a pen name, not my real name. And I didn’t tell anyone at first, except for Lina, because I… Well, I was scared my colleagues wouldn’t take me seriously if they knew I was writing what they’d consider steamy novels for bored housewives.” She sighed. “How stupid is that, huh? Instead of being proud of myself.” A shake of her head. “But I was scared someone would think less of my work as an engineer, or belittle my book just because it’s in a genre that’s so unfairly judged, or belittle me, because of something I love. Okay, not someone, but them, the guys at the office. Mostly men. Maybe even my dad, too. Society in general? I don’t know.”
Rosie seemed lost in thought for a second, then continued, her expression brightening a little. “Anyway. The book started getting some attention. Nothing huge, but more than I ever anticipated. It slowly but steadily escalated from there, until I was offered a book deal. And it was then that something in me snapped. I signed the contract with the publisher and quit my job, which is something very out of character for me. Taking leaps is not my thing. Making decisions without minimizing risks, without having the assurance that it will all work out is not something I’ve ever done. But dammit, it felt good. Terrifying but liberating. As if I had been waiting my whole life to be… free.” Her smile fell. “And then, it all went to sh—”
She stopped herself.
“It all went where?” I asked, realizing only now that I had inched forward in her direction. Over the table.
Rosie squared back her shoulders. “You’ve already met your question quota.”
“What?” I grunted.
“You’ve asked your five questions,” she explained. “So, no more for you.”
I had forgotten we were still playing this game.
“Me, on the other hand,” she pointed out with what I was pretty sure was satisfaction, “I’ve got two more questions.”
I leaned back on my seat. “I feel like I’ve been cheated here.”
Rosie’s lips tipped up the slightest bit. “I always play by the rules.” Her chin lifted. “So… what are your plans, Lucas?”
While that was a simple enough question, it somehow felt like a punch to the gut. Because it only reminded me of the truth: I didn’t have a plan. I was no longer a man who thought in terms of plans. I was No Plan Lucas. “Nothing special. Just… tourist stuff.”
Silence settled between us as she weighed my curt answer.
I cleared my throat. “You’re down to one question.”
It only took her a few more seconds of scrutiny, and then she said, “Why weren’t you at Lina and Aaron’s wedding?”
My eyes widened. Her question had caught me completely off guard. Memories of the weeks preceding the wedding poured in, stealing the breath right out of me.
Rosie, who must have seen everything playing in my face, hesitated.
“Lucas—”
“It’s fine,” I cut her off. I could play by my own rules. One question, one answer. No matter how long or difficult it was. “I couldn’t attend,” I forced out, feeling like it was hard to breathe. “I was not able to make it in time. I…” I blew out a shaky breath. “I was—”
I shook my head.
Long, short, easy, or hard, I didn’t seem to have an answer for her. Because how did one finish a statement that represented everything they were running away from? Hell if I knew.
Something warm brushed the back of my hand, pulling me out of my head.
Looking down, my gaze stumbled upon five long and delicate fingers loosely wrapped around my hand.
“Hey,” I heard her say, my eyes glued to our hands. “You couldn’t go. That’s a valid answer, Lucas. You played by the rules.”
Torn between shaking her off and turning my hand to lace my fingers through hers for no other reason except because I needed the physical contact, I needed the closeness of another human being, I settled on neither.
I went for what I did best.
I pulled myself together and gave her a grin I hoped did the trick.
“Our five questions are up,” I told her. “What time are you leaving for Philly?”
Her lips parted, but before she could give me an answer, her phone rang. She fished it out of her bag and looked at the screen with a frown. “Sorry, I better get this.” Picking up the call, she brought it to her ear. “Hey, Dad, is Olly—”
She was silenced by whatever was being said on the line.
Her eyes widened, panic etching in her otherwise soft features. “You what?” She breathed out. “An ambulance?”
Something dropped in my stomach the moment that last word registered. And it tumbled further down when she ended the call a few seconds later and stood with a jolt, barely looking at me.
“I need to go.” She scrambled for her things. “I’m sorry. It’s my dad.” Her hand shot for her purse, snatching it a little too briskly and dropping it to the floor. “Dammit.”
“Rosie,” I said, kneeling with her to pick up the things that had tumbled out of her bag. My joints complained fiercely but I ignored the pain as I picked up her keys and something that looked like a lipstick bar. “Hey, Rosie?” I searched her gaze, placing the items in her hands, and when she didn’t look at me, I slid my fingers to her wrists. Her skin was warm, soft. I squeezed gently but firmly. Just enough to get her attention.
Her gaze finally met mine.
“Take a breath,” I instructed.
She obeyed, filling her lungs with air while we remained crouching on the floor, facing each other.
“Do you need me to come with you?” I said very slowly. “You are a little shaken.”
“What?” Her features softened. “That’s… No. It’s okay.” She took in another breath. “I’m being silly. Dad’s probably fine. It’s his hip. An old injury, but he slipped, and a neighbor called an ambulance. He didn’t even need me. He was calling because Mrs. Hull threatened to. Anyway, I was going to go to Philly today either way. So it’s okay.”
Words of reassurance rose to the tip of my tongue, but she distracted me by standing up.
I followed suit, taking extra care not to lean my weight on my right side so we wouldn’t have a repeat of last night.
Rosie pulled out her wallet, extracted a few twenties, and placed them on top of the table. “Here.” She smiled before pinning me with a serious look. “I think this will cover our tab.”
Our tab?
I shook my head. “Rosie, no. You don’t have to.”
“Take it,” she insisted. “Please, Lucas.”
“Rosie…” I trailed off. But what did I expect after telling her I’d lost my card and that I only had a few bucks with me. God. I was a zopenco, like Abuela loved to call me when I pulled off something this stupid.
She smiled. “I better go, now.” She took a step away from the booth. “I’ll be back to the apartment to pick up all my things in the evening. Okay?”
“Good luck.” I nodded my head. “And… thank you, Rosie. I’m returning this, I promise. I wasn’t joking when I said I’m in your debt.”
A new emotion crossed her face. “See you later, Lucas.”
I watched her as she approached the exit of the diner, and just before she walked out, I called, “Oh, and please, don’t tell your dad about me eating his sausage rolls! I’d like to make a good first impression.”
She didn’t turn around, but just as the glass door closed behind her, I heard her laugh.
It was a sweet sound. Soft and guarded, just like her.
“Ah shit,” I said under my breath, looking down at my empty mug and the borrowed bills. “Lina me va a cortar las pelotas.”