Standing outside Adrian’s house with a ridiculous grin on her face, Sofia felt like dancing. Adrenaline was still coursing through her after the day she’d had. Filming with the couple had wrapped up quickly after the announcement of the impending arrival of Baby Shah. The film crew was still there taking their panning shots of the details in the finished rooms for the “after” scenes. Farha and Gautam were at the hospital, safe and sound.

Not even bothering to change out of her camera-ready leather skirt and button-down blouse, Sofia had grabbed Frankie and gone over to the Shahs’ house with the spare key she still had from the movers. Who cared about keeping clothes clean in the excitement of a new baby? They had filled boxes with essentials from the kitchen, bathrooms, and dressers. Sofia found the stash of diapers, wipes, and baby clothes from Farha’s baby shower and packed that up, too.

They spent the late afternoon moving the young family into their new home so that when they came home from the hospital, they could have a few days of comfort before they had to do the nitty-gritty moving of everything else. Sofia had done a quick grocery run and stocked the freezer with easy to heat-and-eat meals, while Frankie organized the kitchen cabinets.

Even after all that work, she was still revved from the adrenaline of the reveal. She’d pulled it off, succeeded beyond her expectations, and had very happy clients and a show that wouldn’t fail because she’d screwed up. Now that the tension was gone, she wanted to celebrate.

She had also picked up a bottle of champagne. There was only one person she wanted to celebrate with. She couldn’t explain it, even to herself, but she needed to see Adrian. Part of it was petty—a chance to gloat and say they’d loved it. But more than that, he’d worked just as hard as she had, and he deserved to know how the reveal had gone. It had felt strange to be showing off his handiwork without him after weeks of arguing about it side by side. And then there was the part she wasn’t listening to that told her she just missed him.

So here she stood, at dusk, bottle of champagne dripping cold water down her leg, on his front porch. When she rang the bell, Graciela Villanueva answered the door.

“Hola, Sofia. How are you?”

“I’m good. And you?”

“Muy bien, gracias. Come inside. Let me close this door.”

Sofia preceded her into the dark living room just off the foyer. She looked around the room, and her designer heart cringed. The heavy drapes at the windows blocked out eighty percent of the light, leaving the rest of the room feeling close and cave-like. The three couches were clean but old, clearly well used by the four teenagers who had grown up in the house. The one armchair in the room was a bright paisley patterned wingback with spindly legs, the matriarch’s throne. A cup of steaming coffee and a book propped open on the tufted arm told Sofia she’d interrupted Graciela’s reading time. How Adrian’s mother managed to read in this gloom was a mystery to Sofia.

“You are here to see Adrian?”

“I am. We finished filming today, and I wanted to congratulate him on a job well done.” She raised the bottle of champagne in a toast.

“He’s not here right now, but he should be back soon if you don’t mind waiting.”

“I’d love to stay and chat with you. I don’t want to interrupt your book though.”

“It’s one I have re-read a thousand times. It is a visit with an old friend. Now, I can visit with a new one.”

“My mother protected her reading time fiercely. If her reading lamp was on, you’d better be bleeding to interrupt her.”

“Nonsense. I love company. Can I make you a coffee? Ven aquí, sit with me in the kitchen. I have cookies.”

Sofia followed Graciela as the older woman bustled into the kitchen, and within a minute she found herself seated with a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of polvorones de canela. She took a bite, and the buttery, sugary, cinnamon-spiced goodness melted on her tongue.

“Thank you. These are delicious.” She tried to ignore the three other cookies on the plate and failed miserably three times.

“So, tell me! How did the last day of filming go? I have been so excited for you all. I cannot wait to see my son on television.”

“The filming went well. The Shahs loved the house, and Farha actually went into labor during the final reveals. They headed to the hospital, and Frankie and I moved their baby things in so they can come home to their new house.”

“You are a good girl. I’m sure your mother is very proud.”

Sofia wasn’t sure about that. She couldn’t remember the last time she had spoken to her mother outside of a family meeting. She needed to remedy that, maybe take Mom for coffee tomorrow.

“The Shahs were so complimentary of the work done on the house, I wanted to tell Adrian right away, before the shine wears off. It’s going to be a little while before we know if the pilot gets picked up.”

“He’ll be home soon. Rico, our neighbor, is sick, so Adrian is filling in for him on a landscape job he needed finished today.”

Graciela checked the clock on the wall and her wristwatch. The older woman was fairly vibrating with nerves, her cookie a pile of crumbs on her plate. Sofia tried to distract her with idle conversation.

“Rico is on one of our crews. I didn’t realize he did landscaping, too.”

“His cousin runs a lawn maintenance service, and Rico helps out when they do big jobs.”

“Do you have their card? Get them in touch with me. Clients of Enzo’s are always looking for recommendations to take care of what he’s built. He’s gotten so busy with the landscaping side, he’s had to stop taking on new weekly clients.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, for everyone. I’ll make sure Rico brings a card next week.” She had worried her napkin to shreds, and Sofia could only be grateful she hadn’t gone to find the business card.

Sofia cast around for anything to pass the time and distract Graciela from her anxiety over Adrian’s absence. “While, I’m waiting, is there anything I can do for you? Adrian mentioned that you don’t get out often.”

“I don’t go out ever, if I can help it. When the country you live in sees you as a criminal… When you have something precious snatched away…it gets harder and harder to trust the outside world not to hurt you.”

So much for avoiding her anxiety. Smooth move, Sofia.

“I understand. Is it this hard any time Adrian is gone?”

“No, querida. Only when he’s late.” Somehow the endearment when heard from his mother’s lips didn’t get her hackles up, but it might explain where Adrian had gotten the habit.

“Do you need anything? I could run out.”

“You are sweet. I have my children and my neighbors who make sure I have what I need. I wish I could find my courage though. My oldest daughter has just had my first grandson.” She pulled out her cell phone and proudly showed Sofia a slew of baby pictures. “She had a C-section and the baby has colic, and I wish I could help her. But every time I try to walk out that door…I can’t.”

Sofia didn’t know what to say to that. She couldn’t imagine never leaving her apartment again. Living in the same dark rooms day after day didn’t seem comforting at all. The open longing on the older woman’s face as she gazed at her phone was breaking Sofia’s heart. She had to do something to help. “Mrs. Villanueva…”

“Graciela, please.”

“Graciela, do you like your living room?”

“¿Perdóname?”

“You said you spend most of your time in there, but I can’t help but notice how dark it is. That can’t be good for your reading.” An idea was taking shape in Sofia’s mind.

“Oh, it is fine. Adrian is so busy. I don’t want to bother him with small things like painting.”

True, he was busy. So busy that he was working even on his days off, not to mention the overtime for the show. But she didn’t have to involve him, right? The things she was thinking of changing she could handle herself. She was mentally swapping out curtains for shades and painting walls. It would be so easy…

“But if you could have it redone, would you like that?”

“Maybe a new bookcase or two. A new sofa so friends who visit can be comfortable. Those things are ancient.”

She heard the hope in Graciela’s voice, and her decision was made.

“I tell you what. If you get up the courage to visit your daughter, I will come and make over your living room while you’re gone.”

“Why would you do this for me?”

“Because you are my friend’s mother, and it hurts my heart to see good space not making people happy. That room could be so much nicer for you and still maintain your privacy.”

“I will think about it.”

“Let’s take a walk through it right now.” Sofia picked up her coffee and moved away from the cookies, re-energized. “Think out loud while we stroll. Then if you decide yes, I will know what you want done.”

* * *

Adrian had resisted the urge to call Sofia all day. He wanted to know how the reveal went, but he was holding on to his mad. She didn’t need him, and he didn’t need her either.

Just because they’d been in each other’s pocket for the show didn’t mean that needed to continue now that the project was done. He didn’t need to talk to her every day. A little distance was probably for the best. He’d gotten all caught up in her, and she clearly did not feel the same. Besides, he’d probably catch her mid-shoot and screw up a scene or something.

No, he’d see her tomorrow at the office. That would be soon enough. After all, she’d made it abundantly clear she didn’t want him checking up on her, or taking care of her, or doing any damn thing for her.

Not to mention the fact that he was covered in dirt and grass clippings, and all he wanted to do was collapse in his shower. He didn’t want to talk to anyone until he felt vaguely human again.

So when he pulled up to his house and saw her car parked in front, he sat in his running truck in the middle of his narrow street, mind spinning with questions. What the hell? A honk from behind him cleared his head enough to pull into his driveway. He climbed out of the truck, dusted off the dirt as best he could, and went in the front door.

“And these curtains, well, they came with the house— Adrian! You’re home.”

“Hola, Mamá. Sofia, what are you doing here?”

“That’s no way to welcome a guest, Adrian. Sofia came by to see you, but was kind enough to keep me company until you got home. We were just talking about redoing the living room.”

“What? What’s wrong with the living room?”

“Nothing. It’s fine.” Graciela stepped back from the annoyance in Adrian’s voice, but Sofia wasn’t going to let his bad mood spoil his mother’s joy.

“It’s fine, but it’s not great. It’s dark and outdated. I was just talking to your mom about easy ways we could fix that.”

Adrian felt his cheeks heat and his shoulders crept toward his ears. He only hit this level of embarrassment when Mamá chewed him out in front of his sisters. That Sofia could elicit it with a simple critique of his living room was not good. And didn’t that just piss him off even more.

“Mamá, if you didn’t like the living room why didn’t you tell me? I will fix it for you.” He bent down to unlace his boots, frustration turning the bows to knots.

“It is fine, and you have enough to do. Besides, Sofia offered to do it when I get up the nerve to go see Mahalia and the baby, so you should be happy I’m actually thinking about visiting.”

That was a big deal. If it took Sofia dangling a reno carrot to motivate his mom, he wouldn’t argue, but it still rubbed him the wrong way. Why hadn’t she said something to him? He would have fixed the living room if she’d asked. He pushed away his guilt and focused on his mother.

“You tell me when you want to go, and I will clear the whole weekend.” He crossed to his mother and kissed her on the forehead before heading into the kitchen. “If you want to talk about something, Sofia, can it wait until I’ve had dinner? I’m starving.”

“Actually, I just…”

Sofia gestured to the kitchen, but Graciela cut her off while she bustled to the fridge.

“Here, mijo, take this upstairs. Put it in the oven for half an hour. There’s enough for two.” She pulled a ceramic baking dish from the fridge and pushed it into his hands. “Now shoo. You two have a nice night. And thank you, Sofia. It’s been a long time since I had something to look forward to.”

“It will be my pleasure, Graciela. I’m already getting inspired.”

Good Lord. What was she going to do to the living room? Tear down a wall? Make an outdoor living space that would send his mother running to her bedroom? Lay diagonal hardwood floors?

“Come on.” He jerked his head toward the stairs, in a move he knew he’d hear about from his mother later. But damn it, he was tired, hungry, and filthy, and now apparently was going to have his living room torn up because Sofia didn’t like it. What the hell? She ducked back into the kitchen, and he didn’t bother to wait, plodding up the stairs in his stocking feet.

Sofia didn’t speak until they reached his apartment. He set the casserole on the countertop and scrubbed his face and hands in the kitchen sink. It wasn’t until he dried his face on a towel that he realized she hadn’t followed him into the space. She warily held out a bottle of champagne from the top of the stairs.

“Congratulations.”

“What’s this for?”

“I came by to celebrate the Shah project. They loved it, but I can tell you’re not in the mood, so I’ll just go.”

“Stay.”

The word was out before he thought about the implications, but he wouldn’t take it back. Yes, he was in a shit mood, but he didn’t want her to go.

“Are you sure?”

“I just worked an extra four hours shoveling mulch and manure to cover for Rico so that he’s not out money because he got the flu. All I wanted was some dinner, a shower, and my bed. And I walk in to find you criticizing my home. I’m entitled to be a little cranky.”

“I wasn’t criticizing your home. I was trying to help. I came in, and your mother was reading in the dark. You can’t tell me you like that living room. I’ve seen your taste.” She gestured to his own apartment as she finally crossed the threshold.

“I ask if she wants me to fix anything up around the house. She always says it’s fine.”

Sofia looked at him, eyes full of pity for his feeble male brain, and it pissed him off. “When a woman says something is fine, it’s never fine.”

“Noted.”

“Look, I don’t want to make you mad. She just looked so sad when she talked about not seeing your sister and the baby, and then I had the thought, and then it was out of my mouth. I don’t have to do it if you don’t want me to.”

“I’m okay with whatever she wants, and if it works to get her out of the house, I will kiss you.” An awkward silence fell between them when she didn’t respond. Dammit, he hadn’t meant it that way. Well, he would like to mean it that way but she’d made it pretty damn clear that was off the table. This was why he shouldn’t be around people right now. Why hadn’t he sent her on her way? Maybe if she got out what she needed to say, she would leave and he could retreat with a beer to his shower. “So the Shahs liked the house?”

“Oh, I can’t wait for you to see the video.” She bustled around his kitchen, turning on the oven, grabbing two tumblers, and unwrapping the champagne as she spoke. Damn. She was planning to stay. “They loved everything. They had so many nice things to say about you and your crew. They really noticed that the details were done right. I guess they’ve lived in some places that could use your care and attention.”

She popped the cork on the champagne with a grin, and he barely noticed the wine bubbling over onto his table. His attention had gotten caught on her lips. Why did that smile make him think stupid things? Paired with the warmth of her words in his chest, she was hard to resist. She traded him a tumbler for the casserole of rice and pork, which she popped in the oven before raising her own glass in a toast.

“Here’s to the end of a job well done and the start of a new adventure.”

He clinked his glass to hers and drank deeply but wondered what she meant by that. What did she think was a new adventure? The pilot? The partnership? Them? It wasn’t just the bubbles making his head swim.

“I’m glad it went well.”

“I haven’t even told you the best part. While we were in the nursery, Farha’s labor started! They are at the hospital right now, so they will get to bring home the baby to the house we made for them. Isn’t that wonderful?” She side-hugged him in her enthusiasm, and it took every ounce of control to let her go again.

“Glad we got it done in time. It would’ve been done faster without all the fussy stuff, but I’m glad they’re happy.”

“You party pooper.” She laughed off his sarcastic jibe, and his throat clenched.

She didn’t want him. She’d said as much the other night when he’d tried to drive her home. Why did her laugh still have the power to twist him up inside? Why was she here? His thoughts flowed from his lips like he’d forgotten to connect a shut-off valve. No filter, control gone. “Why are you here?”

“I told you. I wanted to share the good news with you, and celebrate being done with the pilot.”

Nope. Not good enough. He crossed to stand directly in front of her. No hiding behind busy hands.

“You could have just called. Why are you here, offering to do favors for my mother, baking my dinner, drinking champagne in my apartment?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Why shouldn’t I be nice to your mother?”

“That’s not… Don’t twist my words. The other night you told me off in no uncertain terms.”

“I told you I didn’t want you to touch me without my permission. I told you I needed to drive myself home. I am allowed to say no when I choose.”

“What am I allowed to do, huh? Am I allowed to do this?” He slid his free hand up the back of her head, letting her warm ribbons of silky hair thread through his fingers.

She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. Not good enough.

“Am I allowed to tell you how beautiful you are?” He set down his glass on the table and rescued hers from her limp grip before it hit the floor. “Am I allowed to say that I missed you today? That I couldn’t get your smile out of my head? That your laughter slays me? Look at me, Sofia.”

She slowly opened her eyes, and they were glazed with desire. He stroked a finger over her cheek, and those beautiful blue irises hid again.

“I need an answer, Sofia. Am I allowed to fall for you or not? Because if the answer is no, you can’t be here. It’s too hard.”

Her head snapped up at that, eyes wide open, and he let every emotion show on his face, the longing, the desire, the anger, the frustration, the entire tangled web of emotions he felt whenever she was near. She looked him in the eyes, long and steady, not saying a word.

Great. He’d stepped in it again. He dropped his head and began to turn away from her rejection, but she stepped in to him, bringing her luscious body flush against his, and slid her hand up the back of his head, mirroring his own position.

“Am I allowed to fall for you back?”

Adrian could barely manage a nod before his control slipped its leash, and he kissed her.

There was a heady freedom in knowing that his kiss was wanted, desired as much as he desired to give it. She was actively kissing him back, welcoming his every foray, chasing each retreat of his tongue. God, she was sweet. Warm cinnamon and coffee flavors filled his senses, and his stomach growled loudly.

She pulled back and clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I’m jumping all over you before you’ve even gotten a chance to eat your dinner. I told myself I could wait, but clearly, I can’t.”

Adrian grinned at her admission.

“Well, yes, that was very rude of you, kissing me senseless in my own kitchen.” He pulled her back in close and kissed just below her ear, where the scent of Sofia was the strongest. “Dinner will be awhile, but I’m hungry now.”

“You also said you wanted a shower and your bed. Does the order matter?”