“I guess you’re all wondering why I called you over here tonight.”

Adrian sat at his mother’s table, surrounded by anxious faces. The last-minute call had produced more anxiety than he’d intended, but it couldn’t be helped. His mother, God bless her, had responded by raiding her freezer so at least everyone had a plate of her famous enchiladas to soothe them. Graciela Villanueva never let a friend go hungry.

Children up past their bedtime chased each other around the living room packed with well-loved furniture, while their mothers chatted in the homey kitchen and brought more shared dishes that had been intended for their own tables into the dining room. The men, ranging in age from seventeen to fifty-six, were gathered around the table, waiting for him to speak. The weight of responsibility felt heavy on his shoulders tonight. This was his crew, his community, and he knew they were counting on him to lead them straight.

“So, you’ve heard about this TV idea?” Heads nodded solemnly as he scanned the room. “I talked to Sofia today, and I have some concerns. You will have to decide if you want to sign the contracts or not.”

“Tell us.” This came from Alonzo, an older man who said little but had seen a lot.

“They have strict timelines and filming dates. The work gets done on camera, and we have to follow their direction as well as Dom’s. Your pay will still come directly from Valenti Brothers at the same rates you get now.” He paused and waited for the questions to come.

“So we have to work all the hours they say?” Rico raised his voice above the murmurs.

“We have to get the jobs done on their schedule. It doesn’t say we all have to stay.”

“And they don’t have to pay us overtime or extra for the show?”

“No, you still get overtime from Dom, but nothing extra for the show.”

“It sounds like a lot of extra work for no extra money. I mean, we don’t stand to benefit if the show does well either. What if we say no? Do we lose our jobs?” Rico was quick to tease out the problems Adrian had foreseen.

“For now, I could try to switch you to Frankie’s crew or keep you on the other projects we have running. But if the pilot gets picked up, and we start doing only TV houses? I can’t say.”

“Man, you know I’m busting my ass on two jobs already. I can’t be late because of some bullshit director!”

A chorus of agreement rose up in response to Rico’s comment. Adrian raised a hand and quiet slowly fell.

“I know, man. I know. So here’s what we do. One, don’t panic. Two, bust our asses to get our shit done on time like we always do. Three, if we do need to stay, it will be me and anyone who can afford to stay. Even if that means it’s just me.”

“That’s not fair to you though,” Alonzo pointed out.

“If it means everyone keeps their employers happy and their families fed, I don’t care. I can handle it.”

He pushed aside a vision of a wife and children who suddenly had startling blond hair. He’d find the time for his own family eventually. Somehow. The needs of his found family were more important right now.

Conversation continued as his guys hashed out how to make this work with their crewmates and spouses. Angry grumbles and soothing reason flowed back and forth, as partners figured out the details and made plans for their futures together. Sitting in silence, waiting, Adrian felt jealousy creep around the edges. He would do what was best for his family, as he always did, but being the guy in charge was getting old. He was ready for a partner to help shoulder the load.

This TV deal had been an unexpected complication to his plan, but as any good builder would say, complications are just part of the business. And if approached correctly, they become opportunities. If he could make this work, it could really benefit his entire community. More demand meant more work meant more jobs, and he was the guy hiring.

His mom came and rested her head on top of his.

“¿Està bien, mijo?”

“Si, Mamá. It’s a solid deal, if we can make it work.”

“You’re a good boy, Adrian. A good son. Always fixing things for everyone else. Who will fix things for you?” She ran her hands down over his hair to rest on his shoulders as she had for as long as he could remember, and he leaned into the comfort.

“I’m fine, Mamá. I don’t need anything fixed.” The reassurance rolled off his tongue even as the image of a stunned Sofia floated through his mind. Nothing to fix except a few scratches to his pride. He would be just fine.

* * *

When Adrian strode through the door of the office an hour early Thursday morning with a mocha in hand, he was firmly in fix-it land. He had his contract requests figured out and his apology for what he’d said memorized. He was prepared to say and do what ever he needed to get Sofia to agree. He had a packed day ahead of him so he was hoping to get in, apologize, convince her, and get out.

His plan to wait in her office and surprise her backfired when he opened her door and found her already sitting at her desk, although slouching was a better word for her posture. It wasn’t until she failed to respond to his “Buenos dias” that he realized she was asleep in her chair. Setting the coffee down on her desk, he took a moment to watch her. She was so rarely still. How had he missed that sexy little mole high on her cheek or the way her lashes, much darker than her hair, brushed her cheek when they closed? He fantasized about making those lashes flutter closed with his kiss and sighed. Sleeping beauty, indeed, but he was no prince.

Pushing aside his desire, he ran a hand down her arm to wake her.

“Princesa, wake up…”

Those lashes fluttering open was just as sexy as he’d imagined in reverse, and his pulse leapt in response. He jerked his hand back from her arm and leaned on the backs of his hands against her desk, as if that would keep his desire to touch in check.

“Adrian? What are you doing here?” Her voice cracked with sleepy confusion. Why the hell did he find that sexy?

He pushed the coffee toward her. “I brought a peace offering.”

She took a sip and sighed her pleasure, yet another image that he was sure would haunt him later.

“Were we at war?”

“No, but we do have a difficult conversation to have.”

“So this is a bribe?”

“More like stacking my deck for a good mood before we get started.”

She took another sip and moaned again. “Your strategy is sound. This is definitely improving my mood. I came in early to try and get ahead on the day, but I must have fallen asleep.” She stood and stretched, raising her arms high over her head, her breasts showing him a hint of their fullness above the neckline of her T-shirt. She addled his brain without even trying, which was the reason his next words slipped past his filter.

“You looked like Sleeping Beauty resting in her tower.”

“Sleeping Beauty, huh? So where’s my magical kiss?”

He knew she was being flip and sarcastic, but desire made him stare at her lips and second-guess. Did she mean that? Had Sofia Valenti just asked him for a kiss? The silence between them stretched. The tension pulled between them, like a rubber band being cranked tighter and tighter until it twisted in on itself, drawing him in. He took a step closer so that they were inches apart. The heat coming off her skin, the smell of sinful coffee and chocolate on her less-than-steady exhale, the banked desire in her eyes—all combined to sink the last of his resistance.

“As you wish.” When she didn’t back away, he threaded his greedy fingers through her golden hair, anchoring her where he needed her, and poured all of his desire into the kiss. This was no polite peck, no gentle exploration. This was a dam breaking beneath the weight of years of repressed attraction. This was a flood of greed, rushing to discover the plump texture of her lips, the rich and toasty taste of the mocha on her tongue, the melody of her sighs.

Part of him hoped that the kiss would wake her up to the potential between them. The other part of him worried that he was screwing everything up. That was the part he muzzled when she moaned and sagged against him, her spine going limp. With one hand still in her hair, he wrapped the other around her waist to pull her in close, to give her the support of his body and permission to use it. If she felt how much she turned him on, even better. This kiss was quickly outpacing his imagination, and all he could think was more.

When her hands speared into his hair and gripped tightly, he lost his own battle for balance and slid both hands down to her ass as he fell back against her desk, holding on for dear life. He kneaded her ass with his fingers, pulling her hips tight against his and helplessly tilting his pelvis forward.

The pressure of her belly sliding against his cock was divine but short-lived, because she gasped, breaking the kiss. Sanity returned to her eyes as she stepped back from him and stumbled, falling into her chair. She couldn’t get away from him fast enough. Damn. He’d let his cock do the thinking and had fucked it all up. Time for damage control.

“What was that?” She couldn’t even look him in the eye. Her gaze darted from his belt buckle to her desk to the door and back. He could read the panic and regret on her face.

Shit. He needed to recover, and fast. Which tactic did he choose? Humor? Charm? Ignorance? Anything but the truth, which was she’d just ripped a healthy chunk of his heart out with her retreat. “Just your good morning kiss, princesa. Feeling more awake?”

“I’m not the only one who woke up with that kiss.”

She glanced at the tent in his jeans. A blush colored her cheeks, before she hid her lips behind the mocha. He’d never been jealous of a piece of plastic before, but watching her lips, still rosy and slick from his kisses, caressing the edge of the cup nearly sent him over the edge. He had to get some space between them so his big head could take over the thinking again.

He backed away from her, despite every fiber of his being protesting, and sat in the chair across from her, putting the big wooden desk between them. He watched the concerns she wasn’t saying out loud cycle through her mind, as she shuffled and stacked papers together on her desk and fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. He couldn’t deny that it gave him a little buzz of pleasure to know he’d made her nervous. He could work with that.

“We can’t do that again.” She still wasn’t looking at him.

“Why not?” The question was out before he could think twice about whether he actually wanted to know the answer.

“We work together. We have a lot of things happening right now, between the show, your proposal, my plans… I just don’t think it’s wise.”

“How did your parents ever manage?” He could understand where she was coming from, but the pulsing in his lap had yet to subside and his frustration came out as sarcasm.

“They aren’t managing very well right now, because this business got all twisted up in their marriage.”

“We are not your parents.”

“You’re the one who brought them up. I just think it would be smart not to rock the boat while everything else is already up in the air.”

“One question—did you enjoy that kiss?”

Her blush deepened, and though she didn’t speak, he caught the slight nod of her head.

“So, this isn’t a no. It’s a not-right-now. I can work with that.”

“No, no, no. This isn’t some challenge for you to work on. I need a truce.” She held up her hands as if she could stop the train of thought he was on.

“A truce. Are we negotiating terms here, Sofia?”

“Sure. I need your help making sure this pilot episode is a success, and your promise not to distract me with more of that.” She fluttered her hand in the direction of his lap, and he couldn’t suppress his grin.

“I need your help convincing your dad about my proposal, and taking care of my crews in the contract. In return, I promise to keep all of this”—he fluttered his hands over his lap—“away from that.” He wiggled his fingers at her chest and earned a laugh.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Not good enough, Sofia. If I’m going to ignore the way I feel about you, I’m going to need a powerful motivation.”

“Okay, deal.”

“I also need a deadline. How long does this truce last?” Please don’t say forever…

“Until things settle down. This…thing…between us, it took me by surprise. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy the hell out of that kiss, just that I can’t handle anything else right now.”

“Okay, Sofia. You have your truce. I’ll help you get this pilot to succeed, and you’ll help me convince your father that I deserve a chance to buy in. I’ll keep my hands to myself until you ask me not to.” He paused and leaned closer to her, gratified when her eyes focused on his lips. “Just know that every time I see you, I’ll be thinking of this kiss, waiting for the day I get to do it again.” He reached across the desk and offered his hand to shake on it. When she took it, warmth raced up his arm at her touch, and he couldn’t resist pulling her hand to his lips for a quick kiss to seal their bargain.

With that, he stood and walked out the door. He’d call her later about the contract details. If he didn’t get some distance and quick, their truce wouldn’t last the next three minutes.