Page 8 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)

“I know, Marty told me. Actually, you sound a whole lot like him right now.” Tino huffs, to which Tomás clicks his tongue and wags his finger.

“Yes, but what Marty didn’t tell you is that as your friend and your attorney, who also knows how to lay on the charm — ” Tomás jokes to lighten the mood, but it does little to shift Tino’s.

“I was able to get you an extension. The company said if you are able to keep under the radar and behave yourself, they will reinstate the contract for the line.”

That’s a fair deal, I think to myself.

Tomás shoots me a mischievous look. A look I’ve seen one too many times before when he has an idea floating around in his head that he knows I’m going to disagree with.

It was the same one he had on his face when he suggested I move in, and now here we are, barely two hours later, and he’s hitting me again with it.

“And,” Tomás singsongs.

I hold my breath, hoping that Tomás is not going to suggest what I think he is. Though I can sense with every fiber of my being that it has something to do with helping a certain someone who has been mumbling into his drink while Tomás chatters on.

Tomás scoots his barstool back just enough that it creates a triangle formation, and it gives me and Tino a better look at one another.

Exactly what we don’t need.

Tino shoots me a quick loaded glance.

I do the same.

Both of us waiting anxiously for what Tomás is about to say.

“Aside from the cookware line at Apolito’s, there’s a lot at stake right now for Tino.

Especially with him being nominated for a James Beard Award, it’s vital that we make sure he’s on his best behavior.

Otherwise, he’ll not only jeopardize the line but also the opportunity to win.

Business is already great at Cielo + Cibo now but think of how it will be booming when we help our boy to stay on track so he can be the recipient of a James Beard Award. ”

There it is. That dreaded we I was worried about.

I don’t even have to hear the rest of Tomás’ drawn-out spiel to know that my gut was correct.

I can already tell that he’s going to propose what I feared.

Since I’m correct and don’t need to stay here to hear the rest of it, I extend my hand out to my brother, needing to get the keys to his penthouse so I can get the hell out of here and away from Tino. Now.

“Keys,” I say to Tomás, but Tino interjects in protest, standing up.

“Absolutely not.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve been drinking, you’re not driving home.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s New York City, who drives?” I laugh as I turn my head towards the window in the front to see his car parked outside. I rise from my chair. Not that it does anything, even in my heels, he stands well over a foot taller than me.

Fuck , he’s climbable.

What a stupid asshole.

A stupid, beautiful asshole.

“You’ve been drinking.” I inhale dramatically.

The scent of weed mixed with sandalwood and citrus musk cloud my senses.

He smells like the biggest temptation. “ And smoking. You shouldn't be driving either. Better yet, you shouldn’t be driving in the city, period. It’s adding to congestion, plus you're contributing to pollution.”

“It’s a hybrid,” he says so matter-of-fact but sweetly.

Of course, it is. All that money he’s acquired, and he chooses to drive —from what I can see through the window — a nondescript hybrid. Responsible and not flashy. Ah, this man. I swear. Why does he do this to me? He makes staying annoyed with him impossible.

“I’m fine,” I reassure him. “I’m just tired and want to go home. I think I’m more than capable of having a few drinks and holding apartment keys.”

“You mean penthouse keys,” Tomás jokes. “I’ll order you an Uber in a minute, Lorena. Can you just let me finish speaking first?”

“There’s no need. I already know what you’re going to say,” I say to Tomás, keeping my gaze on Tino.

“Keys.” I shake my palm again, and Tomás finally gives them up to me.

Tino stares at the keys. To my knowledge he doesn’t know I’m staying at Tomás’ yet. However, judging by the look of horror capturing his handsome features, I think it’s safe to say he’s catching on.

Now looking at my brother, trying to maintain my composure as I feel Tino’s eyes glued on me, I rise from the barstool. “How long?” I ask, bluntly.

“Just over a month. About six weeks to be exact. That will give us time to get Tino the deal back with Apolito Market and to ensure he stays on the right track before the James Beard Awards. But it all really depends.”

“Depends on what?” Tino asks, sounding as horrified as he looks. “Will one of you fill me the fuck in on what’s going on?”

Deciding to have a little fun at Tino’s expense, since it’s only fair after how he’s left me to feel, I ignore his question and continue the conversation with my brother.

“You sure that’s enough time?” I ask, genuinely wondering if I can work my magic and repair all the damage Tino has done to his reputation in as little as six weeks.

“Should be.” Tomás shrugs, with a gleam in his eyes. “I mean, that is if you think you can handle it.” He knows what he’s doing. Wearing me down, because he knows I like a challenge.

“Seriously, would someone like to clue me in on what the fuck is going on?” Tino asks again.

I click my heels past my brother as he orders me an Uber as promised. I want to get a head start back to Tomás’ penthouse, to have some much-needed alone time. This encounter with Tino and Tomás has been awkward enough, I don’t want to prolong it any more than I have to.

With the Uber ordered and an estimated arrival of four minutes, I stop directly in front of where Santino is sitting. It’s amazing — not to mention incredibly hot — how even seated, this man’s presence still towers over me.

“Well, Chef Amato, we have less than two months to get you to behave so that stores like Apolito Market want your face on their shelves.” My tone is firm, but I’m shaking internally as I’m saying it, because who wouldn't want his face on the shelves…

or in between their legs . “And so that James Beard Foundation can focus on your talents and not your drama, and you can win that award.”

I can’t fully read his expression. On the one hand he looks thankful, honored even, but there’s also this look of apprehension laced within his features. One that mirrors the one I’m trying to keep at bay within myself. “You’d do that?” he asks, full of hope.

Pushing down the smile I want to give him, I maintain a stoic, arguably cold, front. “I need a job, and you so happen to need what I specialize in. It’s what friends do, right? Help one another.”

Friends.

The word stings as much coming out of my mouth as it does witnessing him hear it.

“Right.” He nods, looking as unconvinced that this will work as I do.

“When do I start?” I ask Tomás, but he points to Tino.

“Don’t ask me. Ask him. He’s in charge,” Tomás says jokingly, but neither Tino or I find it funny.

“Well, since we don’t have much time, tomorrow works for me,” Tino says.

“Fine. Tomorrow it is, but let’s get one thing straight.”

I purposely leave Tino on a cliffhanger, just to make sure I have his full attention.

“Lay it on me, mama. What is it?”

What the fuck? Why does he have to do that? Look at me with those sexy, yet puppy dog-like eyes, while calling me mama?

I clear my throat, trying to center myself and ignore the pulse his words just created between my thighs.

“Don’t call me that,” I say in a hushed voice.

Tino smiles. “Call you what?”

My jaw tightens. “Mama.”

Tino stares at me and his grin widens.

“I don’t like it,” I add, clearly lying, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Dimples poking through his stubbled jawline, Tino parts his lips to speak as he eyes me up and down, slow and steady, forcing my gaze to follow his.

“You sure about that?”

I stomp my foot. “Yes,” I quip, fully aware of how frazzled I sound. Taking a deep breath, I continue. “And let’s get one thing straight. I may work for you, but for this arrangement to work between us, you need to do what I say.”

As seriously as I meant what just slipped past my lips, all my words do is earn me a smirk smearing across his face.

“That’s never really been my thing, but for you, I think I can make an exception.”

I swallow so hard; I think my esophagus spasms.

“What isn’t your thing?”

“Taking orders. I’ve always been the one to call the shots. At work that is.”

“Well, that’s what I’m talking about, Tino. Work .”

“Like I said, it’s never really been my thing to lay back and have someone else in control. But again, for you, there’s always an exception to my rules.”

“Yeah, right.” I scoff, trying to ignore the fact that this conversation feels like we’re talking about everything aside from actual work. There’s a definite double entendre there.

He takes a step closer to me and the room feels like it’s spinning.

He closes the gap between us by maybe half a step more, I’m not sure, it’s hard to decipher.

I’m caught between not being able to focus and being hyper-aware of the movement between us.

But what I do know is that he’s close enough that whatever he’s about to tell me, Tomás won’t be able to hear.

“I like that color on you,” he says, staring at my lips.

“It brings out your eyes.” He seems hesitant.

Like there’s more he wants to say but isn’t.

I rub my lips together, swiping my tongue across. “That it?” I gently nudge him.

He looks over my shoulder, making sure my brother really can’t hear us, before he looks back at me with a look that’s full of lust.

A look I’ve craved from him for longer than I care to admit.

“Unfortunately. For now. Since I’m supposed to behave myself. Besides, I don’t think your brother would appreciate overhearing me say how seeing that color on your lips makes me feel. Or what I want to do to take it off you, and transfer it onto me.”

Why?

Why is he doing this now?

“Just know I’m glad you’re back home, Lo. Very. Fucking. Glad.”

Me too… a nd that’s what scares me.