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“You thought it meant what?” Natália was thoroughly confused.
“Never mind. So you were the designated driver this evening?”
Well, since she’d designated herself to drive to the restaurant, this question she could answer fairly truthfully. “Yes, yes, I was. It didn’t work out quite like I was hoping.”
“I’m glad he didn’t just leave you without transportation. Not that I approve of him leaving you there with a car that is quebrado. Did he find another way home?”
She gulped. “There is definitely something wrong with that picture, isn’t there?” Mainly because it wasn’t true. Not at all.
“Don’t worry, Nata. I will be there in fifteen minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”
Exactly where was she supposed to go? Her car was stuck here and so was she. “Please don’t say anything to Sebastian about this.”
“Your brother has a right to know.”
“Um, not really. I’m a grown-up, remember?”
“Then you should be grown-up enough to tell him yourself.”
Her brother would freak out if he thought some man had abandoned her at a restaurant. She was going to have to tell Adam the truth, dammit. But it could wait until just before she closed the door of her car and left the parking lot. She didn’t want to have to endure the expression on his face. Or listen to some kind of quippy comment. Yes, that would be the best route. “Don’t worry. I’ll let my brother know you turned into my knight in shining armor.”
A low dark sound tickled her ear. “I’m no knight, Nata. Remember that. I’ll see you soon.”
With that he was gone, and she was left standing next to her useless car with an even more useless sense of longing. Why could Adam never see her as an adult?
Maybe because they’d grown up together. Maybe because she had been someone he’d had to be careful around because of her cancer. Whatever it was, he had never seen her as an equal. Even after coming back to Brazil after furthering his training in orthopedic surgery in the United States. That had been after his marriage had taken a wrong turn.
If anything, Adam was more cynical and guarded now than he’d been as a young adult. Who could blame him? His wife had cheated. None of it could have been easy for him.
Shaking her head, she opened the door to her car and got back in. If she could just get the darned thing started, she wouldn’t have to face him at all. Her momentary thrill at having gotten a reaction out of him in that exam room had changed to flat-out embarrassment. She’d been mistaken about the expression on his face. She had to be. Her conversation a moment ago confirmed that.
She turned the key in the ignition and heard the same sluggish growl the vehicle had given for the last half-hour. Something was definitely wrong with it.
Another car pulled up beside her. It wasn’t Adam, and the young man seated in the passenger seat made her slightly uneasy. Dark hair and hard eyes surveyed what he could see of her, from her hands clenching the steering wheel to the window that was half-open to let in a little cool air. Maybe she should have waited in the restaurant rather than sitting around in the open with her car in obvious trouble. This wasn’t a particularly dangerous part of São Paulo, but there were always people out there who were willing to take advantage of a vulnerable situation. Her parents had been robbed at gunpoint twice while stopping at night at a traffic light. People had learned to just run the lights if it was late at night, rather than risking a problem.
“Precisa ajuda?”
His words were nice enough, asking if she needed help.
“No, I’m good. I have someone coming. They should be here any minute.”
Instead of discouraging the man, his door clicked open and one scrawny leg appeared followed by another as the man stood. “Maybe I should take a look at it.”
“No, I really am okay. I think I’ll just—”
Her words were cut off when another car pulled up between them, the sleek front bumper coming within inches of the intruder’s knees. The man’s head turned so fast that strands of his lank hair fell over his forehead as he shouted, “Oi, cara, quase me atropelou.”
Oh, damn. That was probably the wrong thing to have said to the owner of this particular vehicle, whose occupant emerged, one hand resting on his door, the other on top of his sports car. “You’ll get a lot more than run over, if you take one more step toward her.”
The driver of the original vehicle called to his buddy, who scowled for a second or two before ducking back inside. The two then peeled out of the parking lot, a cloud of burning rubber filling the air.
Adam slammed the door to his car and crossed the few feet until he was standing next to her little clunker. “If I try the handle to your door, I will find it locked, will I not?”
Her fingers itched to punch the button that would do just that, but he would hear it. “No, because I was just trying to start it one more time before going back into the restaurant. And I have a pretty powerful scream, if you remember.”
One side of his mouth lifted, the anger in his eyes dimming. “I do at that. I also remember how you used to like to shriek right in my and Sebastian’s ears.”
“Only when you were being really mean. Like setting my dollhouse on fire.”
His smile widened. “You never liked that dollhouse.”
She shrugged. “It didn’t matter. Besides, if anyone was going to burn it down, it was going to be me.”
Instead, her parents’ fighting had burned down her whole childhood. Sebastian’s too. She had made the decision that she would not marry someone unless they could be friends outside of the passion. The problem was finding the right balance. It was either friend/friend. Or passion/passion. So far the terms seemed to be mutually exclusive. Maybe she was looking for a unicorn—something that didn’t exist.
“You never did, though.” His grin faded just a little. “So, now that the excitement is all over, what seems to be wrong with your car?”
“I think it’s the battery. Sometimes it acts like it wants to turn over, but other times it just clicks.”
“Try it now.”
Natália obliged, turning the key and giving it her best shot. She had no better luck now than just before those thugs showed up. “See? Do you think a jump will work?”
“No. I bet it’s your starter, which means it will have to be towed to the shop.”
She groaned. “I have to work tomorrow, how am I supposed to get there?”
“We do work at the same place.”
No. That was not an option. “I can take public transport.”
“Have you seen the subways at rush hour?”
“Yes. I used to ride them to school. We all did.”
“That should be reason enough for you to want to avoid them.” He motioned for her to give him a minute and then held his phone to his ear. Once he started talking, it was obvious he had a mechanic on the other end of the line.
Perfect. This was all she needed. Her day had gone haywire from almost the moment she got up that morning.
He was off the phone within seconds. “I have a friend who’s sending a truck. He said he should be able to have it fixed by tomorrow afternoon.”
Not soon enough to avoid having to ride into work with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Ridiculous. Why was he taking over and making decisions for her? “What if I had my own mechanic?”
“Do you?”
“Not really.” The misery she felt must have shown on her face because he reached down and opened her door. “Come on, Cinderella. We’ll leave your keys with the owner of the restaurant and I’ll take you home.”
“Public transport.” But the words came out as a sullen mutter, because she already knew it would do no good to suggest it. There was nothing to it but to let Adam take her home.
But if she had her way, it was going to be the shortest trip in history.
CHAPTER TWO (#udb6eaff3-bee5-5639-95e3-1eddc75b6049)
“WHY DID YOU tell me you had a date?”
Taking a long pull of the beer Nata had offered him, he leaned back in his chair and studied her. With her hair now piled on top of her head and held with a clip, she had a sheepish look on her face that almost made him laugh. Almost. Because the wave of fury that had churned to life in his gut when he thought she’d been abandoned by some nameless jerk had shocked him. Sebastian would have been mad too. But his anger would have been because Nata was his sister. What was Adam’s excuse?
Something he’d better not examine too closely.
“I have no idea. It just kind of came out. I didn’t expect my car to break down or for anyone to find out.”
“I bet.”
Natália glared at him over her glass of wine. They had split the container of takeout food, Natália saying it was the least she could do to repay him for arranging for the tow and bringing her home. He could have refused to share her meal. Probably should have refused.
He’d been feeling out of sorts for most of the day. Sitting across the table from her wasn’t helping.
“You and Sebastian have always tried to run herd on me, and I didn’t want you taking up where you left off before you...”
She didn’t finish the sentence. What had she been about to say? Before he divorced? Before he left for the United States? Before he’d caught her in her “barely theres” in that damned exam room?
“Your brother and I were worried about you, that’s all.”
“You babied me. From the moment I got my diagnosis. It was irritating.”
“If Sebastian had been diagnosed with cancer, what would you have done?”
Her brows puckered for a few seconds. Then she took a deep breath. “I probably would have done some of the same things. But not to the ridiculous extent that you both went to.”
“I’m pretty sure I remember you flipping out when Sebastian broke his arm, threatening to ‘flatten’ whoever had tripped him in the school hallway that day.”
“Someone told me the person did it on purpose.”
“See? You were protecting him.” He took another drink of his beer. “The same way we both protected you.”
Her jaw lifted to a dangerous angle. “We? There’s a difference between you and Sebastian. You are not my brother. And I’m not your sister.”
She didn’t need to tell him that. Not any more. But it stung that she’d just put him firmly in his place...as an outsider. “Maybe not. But I’m your brother’s friend.”
And that brother was fiercely protective of his sister. He’d never approved of any boy...or man...who’d been attracted to her. It was probably a normal sibling reaction. Adam had always been careful to keep on the right side of that barrier, never allowing even the slightest hint of interest to show in his words or actions. Not that there’d been any interest between him and Sebastian’s sister. They were too far apart in age and too close in other ways. And Adam did not have a good track record when it came to relationships.
Like his high school girlfriend? He’d messed up big that time. Or how about his ex-wife?
Not a good track record at all.
Much better to stay friends with Natália than to ruin things forever.
“Yes, well, that doesn’t give you a license to criticize my choices.”
“Whoa.” He held up his hands. “Exactly how did I criticize you?”
“Well, you...” She swirled her drink in her glass. “I’m sure you would have if I’d actually had a date there in the car with me.”
That made him chuckle. “Would you have introduced him to me?”
“Absolutely not.” She stood up and held out her hand for the empty plate. “Are you finished?”
“Yes, with everything except for this.” He held up the Cellophane wrapper that contained a fortune cookie. “We should probably open it and see what it says.”
There was only one cookie, since there had only been one order of food. He wasn’t even sure why he’d mentioned it, except that he couldn’t remember a time he and Nata had shared a meal together. Not without her brother or someone else being there. He was loath to bring the time to an end for some reason. Maybe because she had called him for help, rather than another friend or her brother.
The slight frown she’d carried all evening disappeared. “If it says something about being unlucky in love I’m going to be seriously ticked.” Then she stopped. “I’m sorry, Adam, I wasn’t directing that at you.”
“It’s okay.” He’d already been unlucky in love, not once but twice. Not much could be worse than what he’d been through on either of those occasions. “There’s not much chance of it predicting my future with any accuracy.”
He helped her clear the table, carrying the cookie with them into the kitchen.
“You’re never planning on getting married again?”
“Nope. Once was more than enough.”
“But what about that big family you said you wanted?” Natália didn’t look at him, making short work of scraping the plates and setting them into hot soapy water she’d prepared a few seconds earlier. “Not everyone is like Priscilla.”
He didn’t really want to discuss his ex. Or children. Or hear Nata say he could very well find someone amazing, if he gave women a chance. “Do you want me to make coffee?”
“Yes, please. The grounds are in the cabinet to your left.”
“No fancy pod system?”
“I prefer to do things the old-fashioned way. It helps me appreciate it more.”
Adam wasn’t going to even touch that one. Because he could think of at least one thing that he preferred to do the old-fashioned way as well. And it didn’t involve coffee. Instead he got busy measuring out the grounds and filled the machine with water. He’d only had one beer, but somehow his head was a little fuzzy, as if he’d spent the night at the bar. Maybe it was just everything that had happened: the distress call, those thugs at the yakisoba place, finding out that she hadn’t had a date after all.
Within ten minutes they were in the living room with a tray, two coffees and the lone fortune cookie between them. Natália settled on the couch, and he set the tray on the table and lowered himself beside her.
She picked up her mug and took a deep sip of the contents, wrapping her hands around it and holding it close to her lips. Her eyes shut for a second. “Perfect. Thank you.”
“I aim to please.”
Those words came out all rough-edged, loaded with a meaning that had nothing to do with coffee. He purposely cleared his throat, to make it seem like that was to blame and not his own damned inner processes that had been running rampant all day.
He picked up the fortune cookie and tossed it in the air, catching it with a flick of his wrist and shoving his open palm toward her. “I think you should do the honors.”
It definitely shouldn’t be him. Not when he was suddenly aware of every move she made...of every glance she angled toward him. Of those damned panties that he knew lay just beneath her sensible clothing. Down that path was madness and irresponsibility. And self-destruction.
Natália’s brown eyes met his for a second and then she set her mug down and plucked the fortune cookie from his palm. Her lips twisted to one side. “Chicken.”
Yes. He was. And he was okay with that label. It was better than some of the angry accusations he was currently throwing at himself.
