Blaze a Trail (The Flanagan Sisters, #3) Page 5

  The appreciation warmed through her, as did his kiss on her cheek. “Thanks. So do you.”

  He pulled out her chair and she sat. He had old school charm. It was a nice change.

  As David sat back down, he asked, “Have you been here before?”

  “No, but I’ve heard good things.” The chef specialized in indigenous food. Zita couldn’t wait to taste it.

  They fell silent as they read the menu and when the waiter arrived they ordered.

  “How was your week?” Zita asked.

  “Fairly average. Lots of meetings.” He smiled as he said it.

  “What is it you do?”

  “I’m the Chief Financial Officer at Dionysus Oil and Gas.”

  “Is that like an accountant?” She had no idea. Big business wasn’t her thing.

  He laughed. “That’s what I started out as. Now I oversee the whole financial side, but there are more politics and meetings to deal with than actual crunching numbers.”

  “Do you miss it — the crunching numbers?”

  He was silent a moment. “Not at all.”

  Intrigued, Zita asked, “Why did you become an accountant then?”

  “Dad wanted me to have a good understanding of financials for when I take over Dionysus.”

  “So you’ll become CEO one day?”

  “That’s the plan.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes and he shifted in his seat.

  “You don’t sound excited about the prospect.”

  He shrugged, but didn’t comment. Perhaps she shouldn’t have mentioned it. “What do you do when you’re not working?”

  “I play golf, tennis, sometimes go sailing.”

  He probably belonged to a country club. Just the thought made Zita cringe. She imagined it full of people vying to outdo each other with how much they spent on plastic surgery or the latest car.

  “Sometimes I go hiking with my friends,” he added.

  “There are some beautiful hiking areas around the city. I take my dogs there on the weekend.”

  “You have dogs?”

  She smiled. “Yes. Bess is a lab-cross and Saint is a German shepherd. I rescued them from the pound a couple of years ago. I’d have more, but Mama’s not as keen. They do tend to leave a lot of hair around.” She wanted a whole pack of dogs. It had broken her heart to go to the pound and not be able to rescue them all. Though Bridget’s partner Jack had been making noises about getting a dog soon. He and Bridget had moved into their new house and there was plenty of space, so maybe she could save another dog through them.

  “I’d love a dog, but they don’t allow them in my apartment building.”

  “Well, feel free to borrow mine any time you need a fix.” The words were out before she considered them. She naturally shared what she had with others, but perhaps he’d think it odd, or maybe she wouldn’t want to see him again. A sensational kiss didn’t make a relationship.

  “Thanks.” He took a sip of his wine. “So what do you do in your spare time?”

  “There’s always stuff to do around Casa Flanagan — gardening, cleaning, helping Alejandra with her baby.” Did it sound as pathetic to him as it did to her?

  He shook his head. “That’s work. What do you do when you go home?”

  She hesitated. It was always awkward when she had this conversation with guys. “I live at Casa Flanagan. That is my home. I help Mama with the foster girls.” She waited for the usual reaction.

  He frowned. “You live with your mother?”

  There it was. “Sure do.” She kept her voice light. “Taking care of six girls is a lot of work, and we also help the migrant community.”

  David was silent a moment. “So do you get time off?”

  “I get a few hours on the weekends. I take the dogs and explore the different hiking tracks around Houston.”

  “I bet they love that.”

  She grinned. “They sure do.”

  Their food arrived and it smelled amazing. Zita took a mouthful, and the flavors burst on her tongue. “This is delicious.”

  David nodded in agreement. “The chef is so good.”

  She cast her mind around for something else to ask. “Have you considered moving so you can get a dog?”

  “No. Too much hassle.”

  He obviously wasn’t that keen then.

  David took a sip of his wine. “I hear Evan’s exhibition did really well last month.”

  She grinned. “It did. I’m so happy for him. I wish I was as talented.”

  “You paint?”

  “Not really. The most creative I get is sewing.”

  “That’s something. I can’t tell one end of a needle from the other.”

  “One end will prick you.” She laughed.

  “Yeah, OK, I knew that.” He smiled.

  Damn. The way his eyes crinkled at the sides and the hint of the dimple in his cheek sent her senses into overdrive.

  “Do you sew very often?”

  She pushed the lust down. “When I have time.” Silence fell and she added, “I had to learn to sew. When we were younger, Mama couldn’t afford a lot, so I had to alter Bridget’s hand-me-downs.”

  “That must have been rough. You migrated to the States when you were young, right?”

  She nodded. “I was three. I don’t remember much about El Salvador. My first memories are living in a tiny little apartment, sharing a room with Bridget, and Mama working at a nursery. She didn’t earn a lot, but we managed.”

  “Was it hard for you to learn English?”

  “Not at all. My father apparently used to speak English to all us girls, and when we moved here, Carly taught me until I went to school. It was pretty easy after that.”

  “Being bilingual must be handy.”

  “Sure.” The conversation paused as they ordered dessert. “Do you speak any other languages?”

  “I know a little bit of a lot of languages,” David admitted. “Enough to say please, thank you, where is the bathroom, that kind of thing.”

  He liked to be polite. It said a whole lot about him. “Where have you traveled?”

  “I travel a bit for work — Australia, Canada, Europe. My favorite place is probably New York. It’s so busy and energetic.”

  That sounded awful. Her life was hectic enough as it was. “You like to be busy?”

  “I like people, and the vibe that everyone has somewhere to be, something to do.”

  She understood to a certain extent. There were times when she loved the vibe of Casa Flanagan, but if she ever got away for an extended period of time she wanted to do nothing but sit on a beach and read a book.

  As the dessert was served, David asked, “So you have six foster sisters?”

  “Yes, plus baby Julio. Larissa and Tiana are the oldest at sixteen, and Alejandra is fifteen. She’s Julio’s mother.”

  “That’s young to have a baby.”

  She nodded. “The girls who get involved with gang members often get pregnant. They don’t use contraceptives. Alejandra wanted more for her baby than life in a mara so she came here.”

  “Was she a member?”

  “Yeah. She didn’t like what they did, but there was little choice.”

  “I’m surprised the government let her in. I thought they were cracking down on gang members.”

  Zita’s annoyance flared and she tampered it. “It’s not like that. Where she was living it was safest to align herself with a mara. But then a rival gang came in and killed a bunch of members and she realized her baby was at risk. If she stayed he’d be inducted, and she didn’t want that. The life expectancy for a gang member in El Salvador is about thirty-five.”

  His eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. The situation is that bad. Can you understand why Alejandra left?”

  He nodded. “I would have too.”

  Zita relaxed. He understood. There were some people who refused to put themselves in the refugee’s shoes, refused to contemplate what it was like in these countries, and that made
it almost impossible to help them understand why so many were fleeing to the United States. David’s empathy made him all the more attractive.

  “Would you like to order coffee?” The waiter was back to collect their dessert plates.

  “We could have coffee at my place.” David’s smile sent tingles through her.

  She suspected it was a euphemism, but she was fine with that. She’d like to get him alone. “That sounds like fun.”

  David turned to the waiter. “We’ll have the check, please.”

  Chapter 4

  David unlocked his apartment door and held it open for Zita to enter. Flicking on the light, he pulled Zita toward him and brushed her hair behind her ear. “I’ve had a nice evening so far.”

  Her smile seemed a little mischievious. “Me too.”

  Lowering his head, he brushed his lips against hers, gauging her reaction. She murmured her approval and he drew her closer, needing more of her. He deepened the kiss, tasting her, and she slid her tongue over his lips. He grew hard. She was so hot.

  Zita broke the kiss and put a hand on his chest. “How about that coffee?”

  It took a second for her words to register. She wanted coffee?

  She moved down the hallway to the kitchen and sat at his breakfast bar. David took a second to regroup. This wasn’t how things normally went, but he could run with it. “How do you take it?”

  “Cream, two sugars please.” Her smile was sinful.

  Perhaps she didn’t like to rush.

  He switched on the coffee machine. Should he put some music on as well? No, that would be too cheesy. As he poured milk into his milk frother, his hand trembled. Women didn’t normally get him this worked up, but Zita was addictive. One kiss from her left him aroused in a way he’d not experienced before.

  She was different.

  He was selective about the women he brought home. He made sure they understood he wasn’t after a relationship. But it was more with Zita. She wasn’t just sexy, she was also interesting to talk with. He’d had a meaningful conversation with her each time they spoke.

  He handed Zita her coffee.

  “Thanks.” She spun on her stool so she was facing the living room. “That’s a great photo.” She pointed to the canvas on his wall. “It looks like the bayou.”

  He wandered around and sat next to her. “It is. I took it a couple of years ago.”

  She turned to him. “Really? It’s fantastic.”

  “Thanks.” He was particularly proud of it.

  “Do you like photography?”

  He liked the admiration on her face and wished he could say he was good at something, but the truth was he wasn’t. Why was Zita’s opinion of him suddenly so important? “It was a lucky shot,” he admitted. “I took it on my phone.” He sipped his coffee.

  “The photos I take on my phone always look like they’ve been taken by a two year old; I’ve got my finger in the picture, or it’s off-center or wonky.”

  He laughed. “As I said, it was luck.”

  She grinned and placed her mug on the bench behind her. She picked up a book, and too late he realized it was the latest fantasy he was reading. His coolness factor was plummeting by the second.

  “You read fantasy?” she asked, turning the book over to read the back.

  “Sometimes.” He shrugged.

  “I love it. It’s my favorite genre.” Zita put the book back down.

  “Really?” The last woman who’d discovered he liked fantasy had called him a nerd.

  “Absolutely. I love the magic, dragons and epic quests.”

  “Favorite author?”

  “Ugh, too hard to decide. What about you?”

  “Tolkien has to be up there,” David said.

  Zita screwed up her face. “He’s a bit wordy for me.”

  David gaped at her. “Wordy?”

  “Yeah. All that Gloin, son of Thoin, son of Foin stuff. It’s too hard to remember.”

  He shook his head. The detail was the best bit. “What series do you like then?”

  “Pretty much anything with dragons.”

  Perhaps this was something that would impress her. “Anything up there?” He pointed to his bookcase.

  She got to her feet and wandered over to browse. “Oh my God, check out this collection!”

  He grinned. She looked so cute, standing there with her head tilted so she could read the spines.

  “I’d marry you for this alone.” Her words were light, but they hit a tender spot in his heart he’d not realized he had.

  He glanced down at his mug. He’d thought tonight was about sex, but the pain from her words suggested that maybe it wasn’t. He enjoyed talking with her and had already been thinking about their next date. He was used to women wanting him for his money, but he had thought Zita was different. Though he never would have picked his book collection as a selling point.

  “Hey, are you all right?” Zita hurried over, laying a hand lightly on his arm.

  “Of course.” He forced a smile.

  “I was kidding about the marriage comment,” she said. “I’m not in the market for a husband.”

  “You’d be the first.” He didn’t know where the words came from or why he was so upset. He knew he was a ‘catch’ and had always used it to his advantage.

  Zita frowned. “Yeah, well, I’m a bit busy at the moment for a relationship.”

  Darn it. He had to snap out of it. She’d been joking. He had this gorgeous woman in his house and she liked the same kind of books that he did. That was a win.

  “Perhaps I should go,” she said.

  “That’s probably a good idea.” The words were out before he could stop them. What was wrong with him?

  She nodded, her face showing her concern. “Of course. I’m sorry.” She got to her feet, grabbed her purse from the table and headed to the door.

  He followed. “Zita . . .” What could he say? Part of him was screaming at him to pick up the ball he’d dropped, but a different part of him, one he hadn’t really heard before, was telling him not to bother. “I’m a little tired.”

  “It’s fine. It’s late.” She turned back to him, a cautious smile on her face. “I had a nice time tonight.” She leaned in and pressed her lips against his.

  They were warm and the kiss was sweet, but it wasn’t enough to shut off the voices in his head.

  She stepped back.

  He opened the door. “Drive safely.”

  She pressed the button on the elevator. “I’ll call you when we get Teresa’s court date.”

  He nodded, wishing he could say something else. Wishing it was just sex he wanted from her.

  He froze.

  The elevator arrived with a ding and she got in. As the doors shut, his body relaxed, but his heart thudded loudly in his chest. He rested his forehead against the door frame.

  For the first time in his life, he wanted more from a woman.

  And he didn’t like the sensation at all.

  ***

  Last night was a mess in Zita’s head. She’d had a lovely time at the restaurant and she smiled, remembering the surprise on David’s face when she’d asked for coffee. He’d been so cocky and sure of himself, and she’d wanted to slow things down, make him not take her for granted. But then she’d made one silly flippant remark and ruined it all. The disappointment on his face and the way he’d shut down made it clear his wealth was an issue for him. She’d been careless, not considering her words, but it had also surprised her.

  During dinner, she’d slotted David into the fun-to-hang-out-with category, but their backgrounds were too different for anything more. She’d recognized his line for what it was, and thought it would be a fun way to end the evening, but then he’d honestly been upset by her comment.

  And she’d missed out on the sex.

  With a groan, she got out of bed and threw on a track suit. She’d not slept well and wouldn’t be going back to sleep now. Jogging down the stairs, she called to her dogs and headed to t
he kitchen. She didn’t have time to take them on a long walk today, but hopefully throwing the ball in the garden would be enough to help her clear her head. She grabbed an apple and the dogs’ ball and headed out the back to the large grassed area at the rear of the property.

  Zita threw the ball and both dogs raced after it. When Bess returned it, she threw it again.

  She’d hurt David, and she wasn’t entirely sure how to make it up to him. Apologizing again would help, but they were just words. She hated to make anyone feel bad.

  Sighing, she threw the next ball with more force. She should decide whether she wanted to date him again. He intrigued her more now he’d shown a sensitive side, but she’d been honest the night before when she’d said she wasn’t after a husband. Right now she didn’t have the extra emotional capacity for a relationship, even if she wanted one. She was busy with the girls and if she explored her options to become a lawyer, she’d have even less time.

  Still, that kiss at Carly’s engagement party was up there on her top three. That had to count in his favor. She wouldn’t mind kissing him again, and more. But he may no longer be interested.

  She checked the time. David would probably be up by now. She’d call, say sorry and go from there. She dialed his number.

  “Hi Zita.” He sounded surprised.

  Perhaps she shouldn’t have called so soon. Maybe he’d think she was really interested. “I wanted to apologize again for the thing I said last night,” she said. “It was careless of me.”

  He sighed. “I know you were joking. It hit a raw spot, is all.”

  “Yeah, well Carly has the same one, so I should have known better. I’ve been worrying about it all night.”

  “You needn’t have. I was kicking myself for suggesting you go. We could have had a great discussion about which fantasy series has the best dragons in it.” His tone was playful.

  She grinned, relieved he was fine, but still wishing she could see his face to make sure. “Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it?”

  “Oh really?”

  “The Emperor’s Conspiracy.”

  “Not in a million years,” he replied and promptly told her all the reasons she was wrong.

  After debating the issue for quite some time, Zita laughed. “I’d better go. The battery on my phone is almost dead and I don’t want to hang up on you.”