Romance Grows in Arcadia Valley (Arcadia Valley Romance Book 0) Read online

  By the time he’d set things up and they walked back to his car, she felt more in control of herself.

  In control, but not less angry. She got into the car like a queen as he held the door for her. She inhaled the rich leather smell of the car’s interior.

  He got in and headed the car back toward town.

  “What kind of baseball player were you?” she asked finally.

  He didn’t answer.

  “It wasn’t the minor leagues, was it?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Couple of different major league teams.”

  “You made a fortune.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you done with your baseball career, or did you lie about that, too?”

  “Patricia...” He slowed the jag. “I was worried you’d feel this way. I didn’t intend to lie. It’s just when you assumed...”

  “What was I supposed to think was the career of a guy who was mopping the floor in an apron?” She waved a hand. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter, Look just let me out here and I’ll walk back to the car place. I’ll stop and pick up my stuff, and Bear, when my car is fixed and that will be that.”

  “Don’t do that, Patricia. I’m sorry. I know I should have corrected your impression, but I just...”

  “You just what? Wanted to make a fool of me?”

  “No!” He pulled over to the side of the road, stopped the car, and put a hand on her arm. “Patricia, we’ve known each other less than twenty-four hours, and some of those have been busy. Even so, I tried to tell you this morning, right before we got attacked by the kids.”

  “Was that before or after you kissed me?”

  “I shouldn’t have, I know that, but—”

  “Don’t even try to make excuses.” Her heart was breaking. Which was ridiculous.

  And it was also the reason why she needed to get out of here, and fast. “I get that you didn’t think I was important enough to be truthful with. Don’t muck up that reality with lies.” Her eyes blurring with tears, she reached for the car door handle.

  Chapter 11

  Alex watched as the woman he cared for more than he’d ever cared for any woman got out of the car. Leaving his life.

  Her accusations angered him and made him feel guilty, all at once, but he couldn’t leave it at this. If nothing else, his family’s training in protectiveness and manners won out. “Wait. Don’t just go off in the middle of the road. If you’re set on leaving, at least let me take you back to Manuel’s place.”

  Her hand on the edge of the car door, she glared back in at him.

  “It’s not safe. Do you want to get yourself killed on the highway to prove a point?”

  Her mouth twisted and she slowly turned back and sat in the car.

  He was turning it around when his cell phone buzzed. He glanced down, saw it was his sister, and stopped on the berm.

  Whatever disaster was happening in his personal life, he had responsibilities to his family. “I’m sorry,” he said to Patricia. “I have to take this.”

  She didn’t even nod in response. She just turned and stared out the window, away from him.

  He clicked on the phone, his insides churning in utter misery. “Bueno.”

  “Listen, it’s Veronica. I know I was supposed to come over and help you with the rest of the cooking and decorating, but Abuela isn’t having a good day.”

  He straightened up. “Is she okay?”

  “Yes, she’s fine, but she’s tired. Didn’t sleep well last night, probably because of being excited about today.”

  “Do you think it’s too much for her? Are we making a mistake?”

  “Chill, Alex! I want to keep her here until the last minute, let her rest as long as possible.”

  “Maybe we should postpone. Downsize it.”

  “No. She’d be crushed. She says she’ll be fine if she can just rest a little and then drink an extra café con leche.”

  He smiled. His grandmother was addicted to her coffee. “All right. Stay with her.”

  “So do you think you can handle getting things ready yourself?” Naturally, there was doubt in her voice. “I mean, we can see if Daniel can help, but he had to take the twins with him to the clinic this morning, so I don’t see how. And Javier...”

  “His flight’s delayed. I know. But it’s no problem, I can get it done.” He put all the confidence he didn’t feel into his voice.

  “Thanks, Alejandro.”

  He let his forehead rest on the steering wheel for just a minute. In truth, he wasn’t equipped. He couldn’t do this on his own. But he had no choice.

  Behind his closed eyes, his mother’s face came to him. He could almost hear her voice. Trust in El Padre, Alejandro. When everything falls apart, He is with you.

  He looked up at the clear blue sky and without thinking about it, crossed himself, something he rarely did outside of relatives’ Catholic weddings and funerals. That, probably, would lower Patricia’s opinion of him even further.

  But, actually, no. Even when she was angry, Patricia wouldn’t sneer at another Christian’s culture or traditions. That was just one of the things he loved about her.

  He put the car into gear, checked his mirrors, and pulled out onto the highway.

  “Did something happen?” Patricia’s voice was subdued. “Is your grandmother all right?

  “She’s okay, just not having a great day.”

  “Is the party still on?”

  He nodded and gripped the steering wheel tighter, guarding against the urge to confide in Patricia, ask her to help.

  She’d already made it clear she didn’t like or trust him. He needed to keep his distance, try to focus on his values and not on his own personal desires.

  “What did your sister want to tell you?”

  “Doesn’t matter. We’ll be back at your car in just a minute.”

  She threw up her hands. “How am I supposed to just drive off into the sunset when something is obviously wrong?”

  He glanced over at her, then back at the road. “It’s not your responsibility. It’s mine.”

  “That’s true, but since we have thirty more seconds in the car, what did your sister want?”

  He blew out a sigh. “To tell me she has to stay with my grandmother and can’t help with the food and party preparations after all.”

  Up ahead was Manuel’s place. He put on his turn signal, steered the car into the parking lot, and stopped at the front door.

  He didn’t look at her; he couldn’t.

  “Look, what are you going to do?”

  “I’ll figure it out.”

  Turn it over to Jesus, his mother’s voice soothed. In any crisis, her heart had always turned directly toward the Lord, and she’d taught her children the same attitude.

  Patricia wasn’t getting out of the car, and, calmed a little by the thought of his mother and the help he had in Christ, he looked over at her. Swallowed when he saw how pretty she was. “You’ve been a wonderful help, an angel from heaven. Thank you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t try to charm me.”

  “I’m not. I’m trying to say goodbye. And...” There was something else he had to get off his chest. “Look, I’m sorry. I was wrong not to clarify my background as soon as we started talking about ourselves.” He looked down at his hands. “I’ve... I’ve had some problems with women, since I got...” He broke off.

  “Rich and famous?” Her voice was toneless.

  “Yeah. I guess. But I’m sorry for not being upfront with you.”

  With the words, a small measure of peace washed over him. It didn’t take away his regret and sadness, his sense of blowing a chance at something meaningful. But it helped.

  She still didn’t move.

  “They have a waiting room inside,” he ventured. “Manuel only hires good men. You’ll be fine in there, but if you’d like, I can ask him to keep an extra watch over you.”

  “I’ve had my car worked on before.”

  “Of course.�
�� Even trying to be helpful, he’d offended her. “Look, I’d better get back to the restaurant. Lots to do.”

  She still didn’t get out. She just stared out the window, her expression troubled. And she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, inside and outside.

  “Look,” he said, “I know you feel bad about leaving me to do the party, but I’ll manage. You did so much already.”

  She looked back at him, her eyes miserable, and for the first time he realized that her emotions were strong, too; that saying goodbye was hard. Well, of course, genius. “I’m sorry for everything,” he said again. “For kissing you, and—”

  “Stop! Look, take me back to the restaurant. I’ll help you get everything together while he’s working on my car.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Don’t think it means anything,” she warned. “Just look at me like a good Samaritan for a day. I’m still leaving as soon as you’re set up.”

  “You’re sure?” He was almost reluctant. He didn’t know if he could handle being in close quarters with her for two more hours. He wanted it, but he knew he was asking for heartbreak.

  “I’m sure. Drive. We’ve got a lot to do.”

  “All right.” Some of the knots released from his shoulders, because with Patricia’s help, he knew he could pull off the party.

  They could’ve been a good team.

  When they pulled up to the restaurant, he tried to see it through her eyes. It was a small, standalone adobe building with a red tile roof and a neon sign in front. It meant the world to him because he’d grown up here and it was family. But to anyone else, it would just look like a struggling Mexican restaurant, one of many in these parts.

  In fact, that was what it was. Since his father’s and then his mother’s death, it seemed like times were changing. Fewer new customers came in, and the longtime loyals, his parents’ friends, weren’t stopping by so often, either.

  His siblings had insisted he shouldn’t pour his money into the place, but he could see now that they needed a change. It was going down.

  And the contrast between this place and his own silly mansion was crazy big. No wonder Patricia had been so shocked.

  He realized he hadn’t met a woman in ages who didn’t already know about him, didn’t have preconceptions. He’d gotten used to it. Rested on it, really. He’d let his money and his worldly reputation define him.

  Which was pretty stupid, because none of that mattered.

  When it came to impressing a woman on his own merits, a good woman, he’d fallen lamentably short.

  “Look,” he said, “I’d like to talk a little more about—”

  “Can it,” she ordered. “We have work to do.” And she got out of the car and marched into the restaurant.

  Anger rose in him at her dismissive words, but he pressed his lips together. She has reason to be upset. Don’t be prideful.

  Inside, he chopped carrots and cabbage and then went out front to finish the decorating while she cooked the soup according to his mother’s recipe. When he smelled it, he couldn’t resist coming into the kitchen.

  The quesadillas she was making from fresh spinach, corn, and avocados, loaded with homemade salsa and grated cheese, looked and smelled good, too.

  Maybe El Corazon should do more fresh food after all.

  “How are we going to serve this? Buffet style?”

  She shrugged. “Your call.”

  So, fine, he wasn’t going to get conversation out of her. “Yeah, buffet.” He pulled out his phone and connected it to a speaker, chose a jazz album to play, quietly. At least it filled the silence.

  Except the melodic love songs didn’t help his mood at all. They made him think about what he was losing.

  Made him aware that this was his last chance.

  He checked the clock. People would be arriving in fifteen minutes. Knowing his family, everything would get crazy and loud fast. Kids running around, old friends greeting each other, probably a few good-natured arguments.

  He had to put aside his pride and try one more time. “Patricia. Won’t you stay for the party and a little while after? One more night? I’ll get you a hotel room, take you somewhere quiet for coffee, where we can talk.”

  She turned to him and there was quiet fury on her face. “Why won’t you let it go? Is it that I’m hard to get? Is that it? Because aside from that, I can’t see one reason why you’d be pursuing this when I’m obviously not interested.”

  The gates of his heart slammed shut and the anger he’d been stifling flared hot. How dare she talk to him that way and insult his dignity? He’d practically groveled and it hadn’t been enough, but no more. “I thought you were about being open to people, getting to know them, but it turns out you’re all about people’s surfaces after all. One strike and I’m out. Even baseball — yeah, major league baseball — gives people three chances before knocking them down.”

  A pounding at the door distracted him, and then he heard his brother Javier came in with a whole crowd of people. “Hey, where’s the party? Someone turn up the music.”

  Alex took one last look at Patricia, but she was carrying a huge bowl of salad to the buffet table he’d set up. Her face was still as stone.

  Fine. If that was how she wanted to play it. “Party’s on,” he called with false cheer and went out, immediately to find himself in a crowd of old women pinching his face, kissing both cheeks, fussing over him. The door opened again, and again, and the room filled quickly with laughing, happy people. His grandmother came in on Veronica’s arm, and he kissed her and guided her to a comfortable chair from which she could greet her family and friends.

  The happiness on her face made his efforts totally worthwhile. Against all odds, he’d pulled it off.

  Well, he and Patricia had pulled it off.

  He looked around and caught a glimpse of her, bringing in food, quietly getting people drinks, talking with Veronica. He really ought to introduce her to people. But when he tried to catch her eye, she turned her back.

  Anger burned his chest. And maybe it stemmed from hurt, but anger felt better.

  Fine. If that was what she wanted.

  He busied himself greeting people, taking coats, making everyone feel at home. Javier and even Daniel were doing the same, and Veronica was sticking pretty close to Abuela’s side.

  “Heeeey, Alex!” The Smith twins came at him, one on each side, blonde and rail thin and absolutely not his type.

  But what did his type matter? The Smith twins and their ilk were what he got. What he deserved. “Hey, ladies!” He kissed each one on both cheeks, knowing they found his Latino habits exotic and attractive. “Se ven estupendas!”

  “I think he means we look pretty,” one said. Did it matter which?

  “Stupendous!” He forced a big smile.

  They hung on him, one on each arm, and then a few other friends gathered around him. At least, he called them friends.

  He was popular because of his money and what he’d done.

  Not because of who he was inside.

  “Saw the Jag outside,” Missy Gomez said, sidling up to him. “How about you take me for a ride after the party?”

  He smiled and laughed and put an arm around her. “I’ll have to get in line with all the other guys, but one of these days we’ll make it happen.”

  “Call me anytime,” she said. “Give me your phone.”

  He thumbed off the lock screen and handed it to her, then turned away to greet a couple old friends of his mother. He joked and flirted and felt absolutely hollow inside.

  Every now and then he caught a glimpse of Patricia, and every time his heart twisted. She was still here. Praise Jesus. But she wouldn’t look at him, and he was behaving in the exact way to lose her esteem.

  Finally, when people quieted down a bit to eat, he slipped away from everyone else and found her in the kitchen. “You’ve been so good to help us. Why don’t you come out and get a plate of food, sit down? I’ll introduce yo
u to people. You can join the party.”

  She looked at him with a blank face, like she was thinking. Maybe she was considering his suggestion. Maybe there was a chance.

  And then her eyes filled. “I thought you were somebody else,” she choked out, and turned away.

  Leaving Alex gutted.

  Chapter 12

  After her breathing settled down, after she’d shed a few tears and said a few prayers in the ladies’ room, Patricia came out and looked around the party. She listened to the music and companionable chatter, and tried to feel a sense of accomplishment.

  She’d done a lot to make this party happen, and judging from Alex’s grandmother’s contented smile, the hard work was worth it. That was what mattered most. Right?

  A slightly-older, slightly taller version of Alex approached her. He held out a hand to shake hers and then clasped her hand in both of his, smiling gravely at her. “I’m Javier Quintana, the manager of this place and Alex’s older brother. I appreciate what you’ve done for my grandmother.”

  “Of course,” she said.

  “Oh, Javier, she’s the greatest. She’s like my new best friend.” Veronica slung an arm around her older brother and another around Patricia. “She’s the reason Alex could pull this whole thing off.”

  He nodded, looking over at the food table with a proprietary eye. “The food’s a little unorthodox, but everyone seems to love it.”

  “Javier’s super traditional, as far as Mexican food goes,” Veronica told Patricia. “And in everything else, really. He can be a stick-in-the-mud. You chose the fun brother.”

  Javier’s eyebrow lifted. “Respect for your elders, hermanita,” he said as he glanced speculatively over at Alex.

  Patricia waved a hand. “I didn’t choose anyone.” And he certainly didn’t choose me. Because, despite his surface charm, Alex was a jerk at the core, just like Carl had been. Lying, misleading her, making her look like a fool. And now, flirting with all the women. His little effort to be nice, back in the kitchen, was just more of the game with him. Some men had to have every woman in the room fawning over him. She hadn’t thought Alex was like that, but he was and it only took her thirty-six hours to find out his true colors.