Five

 

Cruz parked his motorcycle next to the sidewalk and cut the engine. He climbed off, removed his helmet, and set it on the seat. Then he dusted off some snowflakes and sniffed his jacket. The ride had mostly gotten rid of the smoky smell. He'd gone through more of his pack than he'd wanted to that day, but he was cutting himself slack since he was so stressed out.

Every break he'd had at the shop, he'd gone out back. Jake knew exactly what he was doing—it was written all over his face—but his brother hadn't said a word.

Cruz double-checked the house number and walked up the sidewalk and to their walkway. A street lamp turned on as he walked underneath. He'd gone over what he was going to say countless times. There weren't any other buildings in town he could use for his tat shop—the city council had made it clear the only place he would be allowed to do business was the outskirts of town—so he needed to be convincing.

His sense of humor and charm had always gotten him out of trouble growing up, so he needed to tap into that. So many times, all he'd had to do was tell a joke and laugh, and his teachers would just melt and let him get away with whatever trouble he'd created. It didn't work quite as well now that he had facial hair and tattoos, but that wouldn't stop him from trying.

Cruz walked up the steps to the porch and knocked on the door, avoiding a wreath. It smelled of pine, like it had been freshly made.

Noise sounded from inside, and then the door opened. The blonde chick from the day before—what was her name again?—stood before him, wearing another dress. It was bright yellow with a pattern of tropical flowers. Her hair was pulled back and a floral scent engulfed him—her perfume?

She smiled and stepped back. "Come on in, Cruz."

And she remembered his name. Crap. He forced a smile and nodded a thanks, stepping inside. The house had bare furnishings and almost no decorations, spare a few holiday ones.

Blondie closed the door and then Cruz saw a pile of moving boxes. That's right. They were new to town. "Nice place."

"We're still trying to figure out where everything is. You know how moving is."

"Not really."

She raised an eyebrow.

"But I imagine it's a pain in the—uh, neck. I grew up in one house, and the only time I moved was when I went to college, and all I packed fit on my motorcycle."

Her gorgeous blue-green eyes widened. "Really?"

"Don't look so shocked. I went to UCLA. I graduated, even."

"That's not what surprised me. It was because you got everything on a motorcycle."

He shrugged.

"Isn't UCLA hard to get into? Less than ten percent get in, don't they?"

Cruz looked away. "I didn't really pay attention. Just wanted to hang out in LA for a while."

"What brought you back here?"

"Sure wasn't the town. My dad had some health problems and I wasn't really gettin' along with the guy I was working for, so I just packed up my bike and came back."

"Is your dad okay?" Talia's eyes widened. "Do you guys need anything?"

"No, he's okay now. Takin' care of himself and everything. My mom and all five of us brothers help out, too."

"Oh, good. Well, if you do need something, you have our number."

Cruz nodded and slid off his jacket. Her eyes widened as her gaze went over his heavily tattooed arms. He tried to tell if she was judging him or checking them out. It was hard to tell because her expression didn't reveal anything. He'd been judged before by religious people, making wild assumptions based on his body art.

Cruz flexed both arms and then held out his jacket. "Someplace I can hang this?"

She cleared her throat. "Yeah. I'll put it in the coat closet." She held out a hand.

He hesitated. Then he shoved it at her, not caring about the lingering cigarette smell. It wasn't like he needed to impress her. He just had to convince them to find a new church building. There was one closer to the main part of town—where he wasn't allowed to put a tattoo parlor—that would be perfect for them. He'd checked it out earlier, and had a long mental list to share with them. It would be a lot less work, and he was certain they'd appreciate that.

She hung up the coat and smiled. "I hope you're hungry. My dad made a ton of food."

"Oh, he cooks?"

"He was going to become a chef before he met the Lord."

Cruz flinched. He wasn't used to religious talk, much less coming from someone who really made that yellow dress work like she did.

Stop.

The last thing he needed to think about was how she looked.

Beautiful.

Stunning.

Elegant.

Stop!

"Are you okay?" She arched a brow.

He blinked a few times and focused on her eyebrows. "Yeah. Long day."

"Same here. Well, come on." She led him toward the delicious smells of pasta and garlic. It reminded him of his mom's spaghetti nights.

Cruz followed her, trying not to watch to her tanned legs. The way she walked, it was like she wanted him to pay attention. He couldn't find her so attractive. Not when he needed to talk them out of the church.

He stood taller as they walked into the kitchen. His mouth watered as the delicious smells grew stronger.

Allen turned around from the stove and smiled. "Welcome to our home, Cruz. Sorry I couldn't meet you at the door, but I need to make sure the asparagus doesn't burn. It's not quite sautéing right. I think something's wrong with this burner."

"Want me to take a look?" Cruz asked.

"No, I can keep it from scorching."

"I meant the burner. When it cools. I fixed my parents' stove over the summer."

"Really?" he asked, appearing impressed. "Sure, if you want to. For now, have a seat. It's almost ready. Talia, can you check the lasagna?"

Cruz sat. Her name was Talia. He repeated the name in his mind. It was weird, but strangely pretty… just like her.

Beautiful.

He sighed. He would never convince them to get the other church if he kept thinking like this.

Talia opened the oven as her dad moved out of the way. She bent over, her dress rising up. He looked away.

Cruz got up and played with a piece of wooden molding on the floor that stuck out. He tried to fix it—with his back to Talia. It took a few minutes, just long enough to get his mind off her legs. He rose and turned around. Allen was setting the steaming asparagus on the table.

"Hey, thanks for fixing that," he said. "That's on my long to-do list."

"No problem. Need help with anything else?"

Allen shook his head. "You're our guest, and not only that, but our first one in this house. Sit and relax."

Talia brought over the lasagna, and before long, they all sat at the table with a full spread in front of them. Cruz waited for someone to take the first helping of something. Were they waiting for him?

Allen took Talia's hand and then extended his hand toward Cruz. "Let us give thanks."

They were going to say grace? It wasn't even Christmas dinner. Cruz forced a smile and reached for Allen's hand and then Talia's. Hers was so soft and smooth.

Allen smiled at him. "Would you like to pray, Cruz?"

The blood drained from his face. "I… uh…"

"No problem. I always like to offer the guest the option. I'll give thanks."

Relief washed through Cruz as Allen and Talia bowed their heads.

"Dear Heavenly Father," Allen began.

Cruz quickly bowed his head. Talia's fingers twitched on his hand. This was going to be the longest meal in the history of dinners.

"We thank you for this day," Allen continued. "Talia and I are so grateful to have Cruz over as our first guest. Even though our meeting wasn't under the most pleasant of circumstances, we all know that you orchestrate all events in our lives. I thank you for having our best in mind, even when we don't understand why some things happen. I ask your blessing over Cruz's life, and pray that you'll provide the perfect place for his business soon. Please help Talia and me clean up the church building in time for our Christmas program. And please bless this meal to our health and longevity. In your holy name, Amen."

"Amen," Talia said, letting go of his hand. She stared at him.

"Amen," Cruz said. His mind reeled from the prayer. Had Allen been referring to him when he mentioned not understanding why some things happen? It was pretty obvious Talia's mom wasn't there. Could that have been what he meant?

Allen and Talia dug in, filling their plates. Cruz watched, feeling like a fish out of water. He'd had every intention to try to convince them to give up the building, but now the wind had been knocked out of his sails.

He waited for them to finish, and then he filled his plate. His mouth watered, and he realized just how hungry he was as his stomach rumbled.

Talia smiled next to him, but didn't say anything. Cruz ignored her and dug into the lasagna first. It melted in his mouth. He swallowed. "This is really good, sir."

"Allen, please. And thank you."

Cruz nodded and then bit into the garlic bread, which also melted in his mouth, the garlic flavor lingered after he finished.

They made light conversation through the meal, mostly Allen sharing about their Christmas program. Talia piped in every so often, but mostly let her dad do the talking. His eyes lit up as he spoke about it. Cruz got the feeling it was the highlight of his year.

He almost decided to drop the idea of convincing them to get a different building. Almost. That was the whole reason he'd come over.

The oven timer dinged.

Talia jumped up. "My rhubarb pie is ready."

Cruz was nearly full after the lasagna, asparagus, and garlic bread he'd inhaled.

She opened the oven and a sweet aroma made Cruz's mouth water. "That smells delicious."

"It was my wife's recipe," Allen said.

"Was?" Cruz asked before he could filter himself. He cringed. "Sorry. Don't wanna pry."

"Don't be. I'm the one who brought her up. She passed away recently, and that was part of the reason Talia and I moved away. It was a little much with all the memories."

Cruz squirmed in his seat.

Talia set the pie on the counter. "It won't be as good as Mom's, but it shouldn't be bad."

Allen shook his head. "She's too humble—usually."

She turned around. "Hey, now."

Cruz cracked a smile, finding that he actually enjoyed spending time with them. But that went against his plans. He needed to remain level-headed if he wanted to convince them to find another building. If he started to like them, it would be too easy to back down.

Before long, he was eating the sweet, sugary goodness that was Talia's rhubarb pie, and for a moment he would have walked away from the dream just for another slice.

"Want some more?" Talia asked, appearing pleased.

"Still got some." Cruz took another bite, getting whipped cream on his nose.

She grinned, eying his mess. Talia was even more beautiful when she smiled.

Stop!

Cruz glanced down, picked up his napkin, and wiped his face. How could he even let himself think of her as pretty? A means to an end—he needed to get them to go back on their purchase. That was it.

Allen scooted his chair back away from the table. "I don't know about you kids, but I'm stuffed. Who's up for Yahtzee?"

Cruz hadn't played that in years. He hadn't even liked it as a kid, but that probably had more to do with Brayden always winning than the game itself.

"Do you have time?" Allen asked.

"Sure. You'll have to remind me of the rules, yo."

"Don't trust him," Talia teased. "He cheats."

"What?" Allen exclaimed. "I play fair. I just happen to win a lot."

Cruz laughed. "You guys remind me of my family."