Losing Her (Lost and Found Book 1) Page 5

  My worries over an awkward dinner were all for naught. Our conversation flowed easily, like the wine our waiter kept pouring into our glasses. The food was phenomenal. We shared bites with each other, and even sampled some extra dishes on the menu. At one point, the chef came out and greeted us, thanking us for our patronage. Time passed quickly and we found ourselves walking back to the valet station where his truck was idling.

  “You are in no shape to drive, mister.” I chided.

  He opened my door, handing me into the vehicle, “No, you are in no shape to drive. I sobered up awhile ago.” One handsome grin and then he shut the door. A second later, he appeared next to me in the driver seat.

  “No, no no no no. I saw the waiter fill your glass up when he did mine!” I exclaimed, my voice a bit louder from the copious amounts of alcohol I’d consumed.

  “Alina, I had him switch to water after two glasses. I knew I had to get you home.”

  That brought me up short. Even in my drunken stupor, I was touched, “Thank you,” I said, my voice small.

  He smiled at me again. I’d grown fond of that smile in the last couple hours being in his company. I’d been attracted to him before, but

  now my attraction was rooted in something tangible. This drive home included soft jazz music. We didn’t talk again. This time he needed no directions to my apartment. I closed my eyes, letting the crooning horns wash over me.

  Next thing I knew, I felt my body sink into a pillowy soft cloud.

  My eyes fluttered open slightly and I saw Derrick standing over me. Our faces were millimeters away from each other, his warm breath coming in smooth steady waves down over my skin. I closed my eyes again, bracing myself for his kiss. My belly swirled in anticipation of feeling his full lips on mine. But it didn’t come.

  Instead, the covers were pulled up to my neck. I opened my eyes again, not able to hide the disappointment on my face.

  “You’re leaving?” I asked.

  He nodded, a sweet smile on his face, “You get some rest. I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

  My mouth turned down into a frown, but the sheer amount of liquor I’d consumed was making me incredibly drowsy. I knew I wouldn’t be able to protest for long even if I tried. He leaned back down and pressed his lips to my forehead. He lingered there for a long moment. A loud, contented sigh floated from my mouth.

  And then he was gone.

  I closed my eyes again, letting sleep take me over.

  FIVE | Alina

  I didn’t know that wine could cause hangovers.

  In my super sheltered previous life, I’d always been cut off after a few glasses. And with the way my head currently throbbed, I kind of wished someone had cut me off last night. I buried my head deep under the covers, pulling the pillow over me. My body was hotter than normal and it felt like lead, but the sunlight streaming through my windows was more torturous. At some point I dozed back off, hoping to escape the stinging pain and regret.

  When I awoke again it was still bright out, but the throbbing in my head was more subdued. I flung the covers off of me, wincing as I stood to pad into my bathroom. I kept the lights off, relieving myself in the shadows, then braced myself to go down the stairs to the first level.

  I needed water. And pain killers. And something to eat.

  The last hangover I had was on my twenty-second birthday. I had snuck out and gone to a local bar and partied hard, desperate to escape my uptight lifestyle. It was the first time I’d been out anywhere without my security detail and boy, did I regret it when I came back.

  Jason had convinced my parents to double my security and give me a detailed schedule for months afterwards. But it had been worth it.

  Just like this one.

  A ghost of a smile played on my lips when I thought about Derrick. How much fun I had being out with him. How he had taken such care to make sure I’d gotten home in one piece. I vaguely remembered him saying he’d check on me. The thought thrilled me. Seeing him again would make all of this worthwhile.

  I grimaced when I recalled that he hadn’t kissed me. I wanted him to. I thought for sure he would. But he seemed like a true gentleman in every sense of the word. I had gotten completely sloshed, so I probably wouldn’t have been much fun to kiss anyway. But still. I thought about his perfect round lips and felt myself smiling wistfully again.

  Maybe he’d kiss me today.

  The doorbell sounded and a series of knocks followed.

  “Alinaaaaaaa! Open up deary. Checking to see if you’re still alive!” I heard Rosa’s voice singing on the other side of the door.

  I shook my head. Only Rosa. She barely waited for me to move out of the way before she barged through the door, her words an incoherent stream of Spanish mixed with English.

  “Okay so I want details, cariña. Where did you go? What did you do? Is he as good of a kisser as he looks? Come on! I don’t have all day here.”

  I shut the door, turning to face her, one hand above my eyes to shield myself from the light, “I’m hungover Rosa.” I groaned.

  She waved a hand at me, dismissively, “Nonsense. You just need another glass of wine.”

  I stumbled through the entryway and into the kitchen, Rosa on my heels, hellbent on finding a cure for the hangover that didn’t include Rosa’s suggestion of more alcohol. I rummaged through cupboards for

  pain medicine while she pulled up a bar stool. I had yet to find a table for the kitchen and it was oddly spaced with the island and other appliances taking up so much of the narrow space, so I’d settled for making the island the only seating area in the kitchen.

  After I found the medicine and tossed it back with a healthy gulp of water, Rosa was staring at me expectantly. I sighed, “What?”

  She pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest, “Spill it.”

  I took another long drink from my glass, eyeing her over the glass. I didn’t know why, but I felt a bit embarrassed about Derrick not kissing me. At least talking to Rosa about it. She may have been an older woman, but she had a ton of suitors to choose from. And I doubted any of them didn’t kiss her when given the chance.

  Exhausting all of my dodging techniques, I finally spoke up, rushing through my words, “We had a great time. I took him to Sapphire.

  He had the steak. I had the fish. We both shared a few other dishes. The chef said hi. Lots of wine. Then home to bed.”

  She squinted at me, the last of my rushed description of the night hanging in the air between us. “Sapphire. I love that place. It’s gorgeous and muy íntimo with those velvet curtains.”

  I nodded, my expression passive, “Yep, it was a lot of fun.”

  She leaned over the countertop, closer to me, “And …. te beso?

  Did he kiss you cariña?”

  My head bowed at her question, embarrassment coloring my cheeks. I couldn’t even look at her as I shook my head answering that no he hadn’t kissed me.

  “Aye! Dios mío Alina! What happened?”

  I shrugged feeling defeated, “I don’t know Rosa! We had a great time. Well, at least I did. But I did have too much to drink so that might have something to do with it.”

  “Hmmmm.” her voice rumbled behind her closed mouth, while she tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the countertop. She was plotting, I could tell. Dramatically, I fell forward onto the countertop, my upper body resting against the marble. Rosa still tapped her nails against it, unmoved by my theatrical display. “What if you went after him? You know, kissed him first!”

  I turned my head, the cool temperature of the counter feeling like heaven on my heated and hungover face, “Um, what?! I could never.”

  Rosa slammed her palms down, “You absolutely could, Alinita!

  The next time you see him, you could just plant a big, firm kiss on him and he has no choice but to kiss you back.”

  I covered my face, groaning loudly. There was no way I could actually do what Rosa was suggesting. She was the brazen and beautiful one. I’d spent my ent
ire life trapped in a figurative — and sometimes literal — tower, being directed or told what to do in every situation. Hell, I hadn’t even been on a proper date outside of what my family had arranged a few times per year since I turned sixteen. The reminder made me cringe.

  But then, something clicked. I felt a new resolve.

  I wasn’t being forced to endure Derrick’s company. I had chosen it. I had pursued it on my own. And no one, least of all Jason Robert Brown, was interrupting it or scripting the affair. Maybe Rosa was right.

  Maybe I could do it. Actually, the more I thought about it, I reasoned that I should do it. I had come out here to start a new life, after all.

  I used my hands to push myself upwards, straightening my back. Pushing my hair away from my face, I mustered as much confidence as I could, “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  “You will?” she asked, one skeptical eyebrow arching.

  I nodded, “Yep. I can’t just wait for him to do it. There were two distinct moments last night where I thought he was going to and he didn’t, so this third time is all on me.”

  “That’s the spirit, Alinita. Sometimes you have to make the first moves or these vatos wouldn’t know what to do with themselves. My ex-husband was the same way.”

  I slowly sipped the last of the water. Rosa almost never talked about her husband so when he was referenced in conversation, I just quietly listened. She divulged so much of her life, except him, so I tried to pay attention to these little anecdotes as often as possible.

  Unfortunately, she let those be the only words she spoke about her former lover before diving back into the conversation about me.

  “So when are you going to do it? As soon as you see him or when you two are about to say goodbye?”

  I giggled, shaking my head fondly at her. She was relentless.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. I can’t think about it too much. I just have to do it, you know?”

  Her head moved up and down, signifying that she did in fact know what I meant. “I desperately need some breakfast or something.

  My stomach feels empty,” I groaned.

  “Ah, chiquita. I can’t help you there. I don’t do cooking,” she pushed back from the countertop, moving to stand. I grimaced at her playfully, knowing full well she hardly ever stepped foot in her kitchen to actually cook. She had a personal chef for such matters. Rosa may be single and living on her own, but she was far from alone.

  My doorbell rang, startling the both of us.

  “Who in the world?” I mused. Not knowing too many people in the town I almost never had anyone just randomly show up at my apartment. For a brief moment, I thought about Jason and my family.

  Had they found me? Was I caught?

  Before I could stop her, Rosa was already at the front door, pulling it open without checking the peephole. I slid behind the wall, pressing against it and peering one eye around the corner to see who had arrived. She let out a low whistle, clearly delighted at what she saw.

  I couldn’t quite see around her, so I dared one step out from my hiding place.

  Heat flooded my body, starting at the top of my head and radiating down my spine. My chest felt tight, like I had been holding my breath for a long while, and there was no stopping the smile that spread across my face and pulled my cheeks back. It was him. Rosa pulled back the door and Derrick was stepping over the threshold when we locked eyes.

  I drank him in. Wearing dark blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt, both of which looked like they were straining to fit over his massive build, he looked even better than I remembered.

  “Hey there, Alina.”

  His voice was smooth velvet. The heated feeling felt more pronounced in my cheeks.

  “Hey.”

  Rosa stood between us, hands clasped in front of her chest, beaming like a proud matchmaker, “To what do we owe this surprise, Señor Derrick?” she asked, effectively making his name sound sexier.

  He was still looking at me, but at her question he tore his eyes away focusing on her, “This was a surprise?” His brows pulled together,

  “I told Alina I’d be back to check on her.”

  It was then that I realized I was still dressed in my pajamas.

  Though, there weren’t technically considered pajama clothing. I was still donning the simple black tee I’d worn the night before, but now without the skirt. My legs were bared and the only covering I wore was a pair of black cotton bikini-cut underwear. Embarrassment had me rooted on the

  spot at the realization. Horrified, I looked at Rosa, who didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

  Her nonchalant attitude was to be expected. I had, on more than one occasion, seen her in various stages of undress. Her home was a free roam zone, as she called it. It had taken some getting used to, but after awhile I stopped noticing it as much. Considering how often Rosa stopped by, I’d begun adopting the free roaming lifestyle in my own home.

  My eyes darted to Derrick’s face again, my racing heartbeat now thudding painfully in my chest. “Um. I’ll be right back.” I darted past the two of them and ran up the stairs and down the hall, slamming the door behind me.

  My hands flew to my hair as my body sagged against the door. I was mortified. He had seen me half-naked and he had acted like it was no big deal. He was the definition of a gentleman. And I was a complete hot mess. I groaned, setting off to find something decent to put on.

  Something I could face him in. Rosa wouldn’t let me live if I tried to avoid him now. And she would definitely expect me to kiss the man now.

  SIX | Derrick

  I was crouched down and elbow deep into a low cabinet looking for a sauté pan when I heard her bare feet hit the wooden floorboards of the kitchen. I waited until I knew she was there before standing and turning around to face her. She looked different than when I first walked in the door.

  Her hair was pulled off her face, high into a messy bun. Gone were the cotton underwear and black t-shirt. In their place was a blue and white tank top and a pair of black yoga pants, both of which hugged every curve on her body. I swallowed, hoping she couldn't tell how unnerved I felt around her. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I stepped inside her house only to find she wasn’t wearing any pants. She probably didn’t realize I had slipped off her skirt while putting her to bed the night before. Of course I didn’t look, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t wanted to. Alina was fucking gorgeous. And it made my new job assignment that much harder knowing I was attracted to her.

  I didn’t stop myself from smiling at her as recognition dawned on her face, “Hey there, Speedy Gonzales.”

  Her face melted into a sheepish grin, “Sorry about running off.”

  I waved her off with a smirk, “No worries. Just giving you a hard time.”

  She pulled out a barstool and plopped down into it, resting her chin in her hands before glancing around, “Where’s Rosa?”

  “She said she had to get to work. And she told me to tell you to remember your bet…” I trailed off. Her eyes closed and she covered her face, prompting me to speak up again, “Mind sharing what that bet was?”

  “It wasn’t even a bet. Rosa just loves embarrassing me,” she sighed, still covering her face.

  I walked around the large island to where she was sitting and leaned over the countertop, “Embarrassing you? Oh now you have to tell me.”

  She shook her head, not moving her hands away from her face.

  I laughed, placing my hands on her waist and swiveling her around on the stool. Her small frame easily moved by my big hands. Her waist was so tiny, I could almost touch my hands together. As she spun around to face me, her mouth dropped open in an “O” shape.

  Her eyes sparkled as they stared into mine for that brief moment. I flexed my fingers on her waist, noticing how good she felt between my hands. Then a beat later, I remembered why I was even there in the first place and pulled them away, letting them hang suspended at my sides. I straighten my back, giving myself a bit of distance from her. />
  Her brows pulled together at my sudden shift, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I lied, stepping backwards and crossing back to the other side of the island, “Are you hungry?”

  She nodded her head earnestly, all thoughts of my abrupt change forgotten, “Very much so.”

  “Even though it’s not the right time of day, it’s my favorite meal so I’ll cook you breakfast.”

  It was more of a statement rather than an offer. She eyed me curiously, as if she was trying to figure me out. If she was confused then I was in the clear. If she started to question why I was being so helpful, I was screwed.

  The truth was, I didn’t know why I was being so helpful either.