Page 34 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)

“Yes. Blueberry. It’s Lorena’s favorite.

I have it at the restaurant, so I thought why not bring some back home so she can have it in the morning.

” The moment I say it, I can’t help but notice the suspicious look in Tomás’ eyes.

Fuck. I don’t know, that could just be the working of my guilty conscience.

Not wanting to divulge how I know this is her favorite coffee, since I’ve seen her post on her social media over the years enough aesthetic coffee holding poses with a blueberry and a coffee emoji underneath it as the caption to catch on that it’s her favorite.

Or to lead onto the fact that I’m lying because Cielo + Cibo does not have blueberry coffee…

yet. I put in an order for it, when I was busy organizing the office as best I can for her and picked up a bag of fresh blueberry coffee beans at the farmer’s market yesterday.

But if I tell him all this, I fear his suspicions will increase.

“Anyway, I figure since she’s been working so hard.” At avoiding me. “That she’d appreciate some, especially since today is kind of a big day.”

It truly is a big day. Winning a James Beard Award will not only help solidify my stance in the culinary world, proving that someone like me, self-taught and worked their way up, is just as worthy as those who are classically trained.

But it will also help the restaurant ten-fold.

It’s not only a career defining moment. It’s my moment to shine and prove not only to myself but to others that anything is possible, if you work hard enough and set your mind to it.

“Glad it’s working out for you two. I’ll admit I had my reservations at first.”

“Really?” My palms become clammy. “Why’s that?”

“Well, I know how tough Lorena can be.” Ha, you’re telling me. “Honestly, you’re no better. If anything, you two can be a bit like fire and ice.”

I cut him off. “So, what you’re saying is that you don’t think we’re compatible.

” A statement, worded as a question, giving off the very desperate vibe that I should not be giving off right now, especially if I’m trying to ease suspicions that likely aren’t there, but my anxiety is planting in my brain.

Tomás takes another sip of the blueberry coffee, each time the mug comes to his lips, he seems to be enjoying it more. “Calm down, it’s not like you two are dating.”

Nope. Definitely not dating. Would love to be, but that would require Lorena to not despise relationships. But we did something, and I’m counting down the hours, minutes, seconds, whatever time frame until we can do what we did — and more — again.

“I mean, you two are stubborn in your own ways, so I wasn’t sure how working together would pan out. But at least whatever tension you two always seem to have towards each other hasn’t interfered with work.”

Tension.

That’s one word for it.

Though from the way Tomás is saying it, I can tell he genuinely thinks it’s because we are both a bit thick-headed, and not because we both want what we can’t have.

“Yeah it’s been…fine.” As the words falls from my lips, I become consumed by the vision in front of me.

The door to her bedroom finally swings open revealing an unexpectedly erotic view of Lorena.

Seeing her wearing a pair of painted-on lilac leggings with a matching sports bra, I become frozen.

Unable to speak, move, or do anything as she slams the door shut.

She doesn’t look at me or Tomás, instead, she remains in her post-workout bubble.

Sweat drips down her chest as she stands slightly hunched over with her palms on each of her thighs as she tries to catch her breath, while she's unknowingly stealing mine.

It isn’t until Tomás breaks the silence, asking her if she used the stationary bike he left in her room. “Yep, I did. I’m going to go shower,” she says without acknowledging my presence, which is the cue I need to get up and say something to her.

Thankfully, Tomás’ phone pings. He starts groaning about how he lasted a full five hours without an incoming email, how his work never ends, and how the workday of an attorney is truly a twenty-four-hour endeavor.

Sucks for him, but right now I’m thankful for it, since he’s too preoccupied to notice how I’m practically chasing after his sister.

Lorena walks towards the bathroom door, about to head inside when I slip my hand past her, and reach for the knob, bringing it towards us, closing the door.

Keeping my hand on the knob, my body remains awkwardly hunched over hers as I stand behind her with her ass brushing up against my groin, tempting me more than she knows.

But I refuse to let go of the knob and let her inside. Not yet. Not until we talk.

“Tino. I have to shower. Is that okay with you?”

It’s an innocent enough question, spoken like she’s annoyed with me, which she is.

But there’s something about the way she sounds, asking me for permission, that does something…

unexpected to me. Blood flows freely — rapidly — to my cock, only made worse by the way she now has her hands wrapping around the doorknob, encasing mine as she does, since I have remained unwavering in my position.

She tries to open the door, and I lean forward, maintaining my grip.

Frustrated with me, she lets out a sigh, and as she tries to smack my hand away, she arches her back to give herself some momentum, but all she’s really doing is backing her ass up on my now hard cock.

She feels it. I know she does.

“I guess we’re just going to stand here all day then, huh?” She breathes out, though not as exasperated or annoyed as before.

I don’t know what comes over me seeing that her brother is a few feet away from us, but I take our forced proximity to my advantage, lowering my mouth to her ear.

“There could be worse things than standing with your ass propped up on my cock all day. Don’t tempt me.

If that’s how I can get you to acknowledge me in person, I’ll stand here all day. ”

She turns around to look at me, and as she does, her ponytail whips me in the face, only adding to the surge of blood flow at my length. It draws a smile to my face. Same way that adorable scowl she’s forcing herself to make towards me is.

“Tino, seriously, I need to shower. I smell.”

“No, you don’t.”

She tilts her head more, confused.

“No, I mean, I know you have to shower. I just meant that no you don’t smell.”

Finally…a smile.

“You’re lying. What do you want?”

For you to answer my hook-up proposal , is what I want to say, but this is not the time or the place for that conversation.

Since we can’t talk about the whole are we or aren’t we hooking up deal, and I don’t want to look even more pathetic by saying that I ran over here like a bat out of hell so I can have her talk to me, I go with the first thing that comes to my mind. “I just wanted to get your breakfast order.”

“I didn’t think that was part of my job description. You making me breakfast every morning.”

“Umm, it would be every morning, but since you’ve been avoiding me, I’ve only been able to once.”

The truth must’ve struck a nerve with her. She digs her nails into my hand as she twists around all the way, breaking my hold, and faces me.

Once again, we’re thrown into a standoff, with neither of knowing how to proceed.

“Sorry,” she breathes out. “I’ve been busy.

” Her hands now crossed at her torso, testing my self-control as her full cleavage is on display, just begging my eyes to drink it in.

If I had my way, my tongue would be lapping up the rest of the sweat that has fallen from her neck.

When I don’t say anything right away, she scoffs.

“You know, cleaning up your mess. Like I was hired to do.”

“What mess?”

“Tino, you can’t be serious. The other night, at Cielo + Cibo. Before you — ” She pauses, visibly swallowing down the memory of the other night. The one she is trying her hardest to pretend didn’t happen. “When you got into an argument with Owen.”

I shake my head, and my jaw tightens as I turn to look the other way.

Surprising me, she steps forward, closing the space between us. Her delicate hand is resting on my facial hair as she turns my chin to look at her.

“Did you hear me?”

“Yes,” I huff.

“Well…”

“I don’t like hearing his name come out of your mouth.” I hate how possessive that sounds. She knows what I mean. Or at least, I hope she does. But my statement remains, even if the way I said it comes out more dickish than intended.

“Well, I don’t like having to use my connections to get your scuffle with him out of the front page of gossip columns.”

Shit. The shame I feel, the same way I always do when I let my emotions get the better of me, comes crashing into me.

“Really? Damn it Lorena, I’m — ”

I was about to apologize, but she shushes me, placing her hand on top of my lips.

“Stop, it’s fine. I have it handled. Like I said, I’ve been busy working.”

“Thank you.” I mouth to her. For some reason, the words can’t come out.

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes with a light-hearted scoff. “I can’t stand you, you know that?”

“I can’t stand me either.”

We both stand still facing each other, laughing quietly. She takes a soft inhale, her head angling to the kitchen before she looks back at me.

“Blueberry coffee?”

I nod, like a damn puppy dog.

“My favorite.”

I know.

“And since you insist on cooking me breakfast. I’ll have my usual.”

“You got it.”

I turn to head to the kitchen, and she snaps her fingers as she calls out my name.

“Oh, and a cup of the coffee to go would be nice.”

I nod my head, but she realizes something and back tracks. “Actually, never mind. I forgot to pick up the creamer I like.”

“Already got it for you.”

A surprised look graces her face. “Really?”

“Yes. Really. Now go shower, so I can feed you.”