The scent of oil hung heavy in the air.
Car oil.
Esmeralda didn't know jack shit about cars, and yet for three days in a row she'd been drawn to the garage . . . like a moth to a flame, like ants to sugar, like waves to the seashore.
The shiny, black convertible was nice and all, but it wasn't the reason her pulse was racing to keep up with the demands of her pounding heart.
She shook out her hair, running her fingers through lush strands, a lousy attempt at trying to make herself look presentable.
With her heart in her throat, she followed the trail down the cobblestone path belonging to the sprawling six bedroom house that her sister lived in with her husband and their four-year-old son. She rounded the corner with a skip in her step, her feet light, mimicking the feeling in her head like she was floating on clouds.
Lately, she'd been obsessed with the naked form of men, when before she'd barely even noticed them. And she wasn't talking about the skimpy bodies of high school boys. Men. Grown ass men who had their shit together.
At least, this particular one did.
Darrell Davenport.
Science teacher to the aforementioned skimpy boys and teenage girls who had nothing better to do with their lives than to berate a sick girl about her weight. Yes, she was a bit on the skinny side, and not for lack of eating. She ate like a pig. Piles on piles of food. Protein rich food. Calorie rich food. Delicious fucking food.
Dinner was still two hours away and so far today she'd had half a tub of yogurt, four sandwiches, a mango, two protein bars, and a large portion of homemade fries. She could literally eat a horse on some days.
The clang of metal hitting the concrete floor momentarily distracted her from the fact that she was hungry again. The sight of a very half naked Darrell Davenport totally brought the hunger back, but then of a different kind. The kind that she had no business thinking about.
But how could she not wonder about his sexual prowess, when a glimpse of Darrell's broad shoulders was enough to make her bite her lip in sheer frustration? Every step she took toward the garage set her nerves on edge. She felt like she was walking barefooted on a coral reef.
Darrell wasn't wearing a shirt, again. No surprise there. With his back turned to her and his head buried in the hood of the car he was working on, she had a minute or two to ogle him.
Dammit. He was turning her into a creep.
How is it she'd never noticed just how sexy a man's back was before now? She studied the groove running down the middle of his spine and watched with keen interest as the defined muscles undulated with every move he made. Slowly, she soaked in the rest of him. The grey sweatpants hanging low on his hip. The sheen of sweat glistening on his toffee colored skin. The sharp angle of his jaw as he turned his head slightly to the left.
Just a few more steps and she would be within touching distance of him. Not that she had any plans of actually touching him. He was completely unattainable. In the sense that he was a few years older than her and he probably saw her as a child.
Still, the allure of Darrell Davenport was too strong to resist.
Ever since her sister's wedding four years ago she'd been practically obsessed with him. And not in a good way. Her hussy-like behavior was baffling, even to her.
The first time she'd been scorched by his flame was when he'd taken her into his arms for the maid of honor and best man dance. His large hand on her lower back had managed to send butterflies fluttering in confusion because it was the first time she'd ever felt that way around a man. At the time her feelings weren't sexual, merely a school girl's crush.
Lately, however, her feelings had blossomed into something more venereal. She wanted to do things with him she didn't think she'd ever want to do with a man . . . like ever. She blamed it on her teenage hormones going haywire. What other explanation could there be?
The pull she felt toward Darrell was stronger than ever. Like he was a magnet - a very powerful magnet - she wanted to get sucked against. Two halves becoming one. That kind of cheesy stuff.
"Hi, Darrell," she said.
Light brown eyes the color of whiskey focused and held her gaze. "Hey, baby girl. Everything okay?"
Baby girl.
She hated when he called her that. She was nobody's baby girl. Not even her father had wanted her as a baby, because the second she'd been diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis he had skipped town never to be heard from again.
"Everything's fine," she said as she racked her brain for something clever to say. "Xio sent me out here to see if you needed anything."
That was a lie, of course. Could he tell? She flushed and her blood heated. Her sister was too busy running a business to care. The only reason Xiomara was home now was because her father wasn't feeling well.
Esmeralda disliked the fact that she had to make up some lame excuse to get out of the house so she could talk to Darrell. Generally, she was a confident person, but around Darrell, she often felt like a kid with wobbly legs and bad acne. When he talked he sounded like a man who had all the facts. There was a quiet authoritativeness to him that only helped to emphasize the nine-year difference between them.
Darrell wiped his greasy hands on a towel and then stood back to look at her. "I'm almost done here."
He didn't say anything else, just stared directly into her eyes. The next move was hers now.
Her heart pounded against her ribcage. Her mouth went dry. She fisted her suddenly clammy hands and tried hard not to fidget under Darrell's intense gaze. She wanted to know what he was thinking. Staring back into his nearly golden eyes, it was hard to tell.
He had really beautiful eyes, the kind she could wake up next to for the rest of her life.
His eyelashes?
To die for.
Long and dark they added a tinge of mystery to his gaze. With her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, she couldn't look away. Didn't want to look away. She was mesmerized and breathless.
Okay, she should say something. Anything. Gah! His stare was disconcerting, to say the least.
Behind her, the sun sank a little lower toward the horizon, casting a magical ray of golden light across Darrell's torso. His honey brown skin radiated under the attention and for a brief moment she was jealous of the sunlight kissing his body. How irrational was that?
"Are you staying for dinner tonight?" she asked.
"Do you want me to?" Darrell continued to hold her gaze and with every second that ticked by, she fell deeper into him. Almost like she was being hypnotized.
Esmeralda bit down on her lip a lot harder than intended. Her tongue darted out and swept across her bottom lip to ease the sting.
Darrell tracked the movement of her tongue with his honey-gold eyes and she didn't know what to make of the look on his face. His lashes lifted and he continued to gaze into her eyes. In the depths of his, fire crackled and sparks flew, and then was gone, only to be replaced by the usual unobtrusive confidence that resided there.
However, she didn't miss the slight turn of his body away from hers and the soft clearing of his throat as a reminder that she still hadn't answered his question.
"It's just that you ate with us two days in a row now, so, I was wondering. . ." About dinner and a lot of other things.
"I can't tonight, sweetheart." He flung the dirty towel to the side before turning around to close the hood of the car. "I have a date."
"A date?"
"Yes, why do you sound so surprised? You don't think I'm date worthy?" He lifted an eyebrow in that sexy manner she'd seen his brother do a thousand times.
Darrell and Omar were both similar looking. Tall, gorgeous features, full lips, and bodies that were built to be on magazine covers. It was obvious that Omar worked out a lot more than Darrell did. Whereas he was all muscles, Darrell was lean and fit.
As she continued to check off the similarities and differences between the two brothers, she wondered if her sister would find it weird that she thought that Omar was attractive. Maybe, but she doubted it. Xio was cool about most things.
Now back to Darrell's date worthiness. Like who in their right mind wouldn't want to date a guy like him? He was smart, loved his family, got along great with children - her nephew Jaxon adored him - and he was extremely good looking too, and not in a traditional way. He had the kind of face that took a person by surprise, making them look once, twice, and then three times. He was more than date worthy. He was kiss-me-now, marry-me, and let's-have-babies worthy.
"Esmeralda? Do you think I'm date worthy or not?" he asked again. This time his voice was lower, his tone serious.
She'd never seen him so serious before, and she kind of liked it. It made her feel like she was a grown up and he was genuinely interested in what she had to say.
"I don't know." The words tumbled out of her mouth before she had a chance to think of something grown up and smart to say.
I don't know was such a stupid answer. She literally wanted to die right now.
Darrell regarded her coolly, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips. Apparently, he found her answer amusing.
"Oh, you know, but I like your answer. Your innocence is refreshing, Esmeralda."
"It's Esme. Nobody calls me Esmeralda."
She didn't mean to sound curt, but the way he said her name did things to her insides.
Darrell nodded, that signature smirk still playing on his lips. Momentarily distracted by his tempting mouth, she paused to lick her lips again. She wondered what they would feel like gliding against his.
"Why do you assume that I'm innocent?" she asked.
"Aren't you?" he asked casually.
"I didn't say I wasn't. I just want to know why you think I am."
"I don't think we should be having this conversation."
"Why not?"
Again that secretive slow smile touched his lips. "You're very chatty today. I've been coming and going around here for four years and you've barely said two words to me."
"I could say the same for you." Esmeralda returned his smile, or what she thought was a semblance of a smile. She hoped she didn't have any pieces of food stuck between her teeth.
Talking to Darrell was so nerve-wracking. He was so polished. So grown up. He was like a well made chair, steady and reliable. On the other hand, she was like a balloon and she just wanted to anchor herself to him. She could only imagine what sitting on his lap would be like, his arms wrapped around her tightly as he held her near to his heart.
"I guess you can say that," Darrell conceded, "but I have my reasons. Do you want to take this thing for a ride or not?"
"What? The car?"
She was so confused right now.
A smug look appeared on his face. "What else did you have in mind?"
Was he flirting with her?
Good Lord, was he?
Her cheeks warmed up and she looked away, focusing instead on the shiny black car. "You want me to drive that thing? It looks powerful," she said as she approached it and ran a finger down the slick coat.
"It's a fifth-generation mustang." Darrell grinned at her, his eyes glittering like champagne.
"Is that supposed to tell me something? I don't know much about cars, but I must say that this one is really sexy. Can I say that about a car?" She chuckled and stared down at her feet.
"You can say whatever you like around me, Esmeralda. I'm not judging you."
Her body tingled at the way he said the last words and she lifted her head to look at him. He was so focused on her, his eyes raking over her face languorously. What in the world did those words even mean? And that look? She couldn't read him.
Did he like her too?
"Well, that's a first," she said. "People judge. That's what they do."
• • •
Continued in Part II
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