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  She stood motionless for a moment, then took a few steps toward him. She climbed onto the top of the picnic table, and sat beside him. He inhaled her fragrance – something floral and sweet.

  “I manage a community theater. I’m sort of a one-woman show because I have the only paid position in a non-profit organization staffed with volunteers. ” she said, her voice soft.

  “Wow.” He was right, then. She must be successful, not to mention creative and smart.

  “Oh, believe me, it’s got its ups and downs like any job. But for the most part, I like it. Usually I either work independently on behind the scenes stuff or I have a group of volunteers reporting to me to accomplish some task. Pretty low stress.” After another sip, she sighed. “But I really blew it today.”

  Somehow he couldn’t imagine her blowing anything and he told her so.

  She looked at him and her glance hovered on his lips, his cheeks and then his eyes. “No, I screwed up on a presentation to our Board of Directors and if I don’t pull this around, I’m afraid my reputation will suffer.”

  She sat quietly for a moment, and he realized he really wanted to hear what was on her mind – what a slice of her work life looked like. He waited.

  “I led a team of volunteers charged with coming up with a complete advertising campaign for the theater for next year. The Board was considering quite an outlay of dollars, hoping the advertising would bring in new audience members. The team and I met for weeks, and I had people assigned to each aspect of the project. We came up with some really super ideas. We were all pleased.”

  Carlos nodded.

  “Today was our presentation to the Board for their approval. The team asked me to be the presenter, to get the Board excited about what we’d created. I took everything we came up with and organized it into three separate formats – one for newspapers, one for TV and one for radio. Then I put together an electronic presentation highlighting all three. I was so ready. I stayed up late every night for two weeks, determined to make this ad presentation the best it could be.”

  Monica leaned back on the tabletop, her arms behind her to balance and her legs stretched out front. “But, they caught me off guard in the meeting. My mind was elsewhere, and by the time I went up front I was nervous, my hands were shaking, and I dropped my computer.”

  “With the presentation on it.”

  “That’s right. And I didn’t have a backup. That was stupid enough. Then I had to come up with a Plan B, and kept them waiting while I had paper copies made, and then stumbled through the presentation.”

  He nodded. Sounded like a hell of a lot of pressure. More than he ever had to deal with at work. He gave a low whistle. “So how did it go after that?”

  “Mediocre. I could tell the Chairman of the Board wasn’t particularly happy with me. She thinks I was unprofessional and probably questions whether I should lead another creative team.” She sighed and shook her head. “She’s probably right.”

  He shifted on the tabletop so that he faced her. Pushing away a feeling that he shouldn’t, he took her hands in his, forcing her to look his way. “I’m sure it was fine. Don’t be upset with yourself. I mean, they’re not going to fire you, right?”

  Monica stared at their joined hands. She paused for a moment longer, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. But I’m sure I blew the theater’s chance to benefit from all that great advertising. The Board may not approve the expenditure now. My team deserves so much better than that.”

  He blinked and realized how much he wanted to make her feel better. Someone this accomplished, this intelligent, this giving of herself to others, shouldn’t feel bad because she made a mistake. “I bet it wasn’t nearly as bad as you think. I bet the quality of the ideas came through, despite the unexpected detour of the presentation.”

  “I suppose, but …” She shrugged.

  At that moment, Monica lurched forward and bumped her shoulder into his chest. He caught her, pulling her close. “What the…?” Then he saw it – a kid missed the Frisbee thrown at him, and it had sailed into Monica’s back, knocking her off balance.

  “Sorry!” The kid trotted up, grabbed the plastic disc and raced off with it.

  Leaving the two of them planted on the top of the picnic table, him holding onto her like there was no tomorrow, and her looking up expectantly, her lips less than an inch from his. He really should release her. But when God, or whoever else was looking out for him, handed him an opportunity like this, he wasn’t about to let it pass without …

  He lowered his head and brushed his lips gently over hers. He pulled back just enough to catch her startled gaze and then covered her mouth firmly with his. He had no idea how she’d react and frankly, at this moment he didn’t care. He’d been thinking about this woman non-stop, and he needed to get her out of his mind. Maybe if he made a move on her and she slapped him or pushed him away, it would give him the impetus to walk away and not look back. Emboldened, he deepened the kiss, twisting his neck to get a better angle on her lips and closed his eyes so he could concentrate on the feel of his lips on hers – the full, gorgeous lips he’d been dreaming about all week.

  But if he was expecting resistance, it didn’t come. Monica returned the kiss, seemed to have no intentions of stopping it. He cupped her cheek with his hand and let his fingers trail over her satin-soft face.

  As a reward, he heard a faint moan come from deep in her throat. The warmth their joined lips generated seared through him, heating them in the midst of the brisk evening air. She surprised him with her response – she wasn’t modest or shy. She gripped his shirt with her gloved fingers, pulling him closer. Still conjoined, she ripped off a glove and returned her bare fingers to the spot where his shirt collar exposed his neck.

  He shivered at the skin-on-skin contact and broke his hold on her lips just long enough to place a kiss on her cheek and her eyelid before returning to the sweet heat of her mouth. She caressed his neck, her fingers moving softly over his skin in small circles and a shot of heated desire plummeted directly to his groin. He shuddered at the intensity of it and she pushed his collar away and moved her hand further into his shirt to caress his collarbone.

  Now it was his turn to groan and the sound seemed to encourage her to make the kiss deeper, reaching for more contact, more warmth, more heat. He was not a stranger to kissing, but this was no ordinary kiss. And no ordinary woman.

  Suddenly, she gasped and pulled away. She scooted back, her breath coming in ragged pants. She lifted her hand – those same fingers that had driven him crazy with their meanderings – and pushed the hair out of her face. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I don’t know …”

  He shook his head. “I’m not. I’m not sorry at all.”

  She stood, her hands holding her head as if to ward off a headache. “I can’t believe I … I didn’t mean …”

  He jumped off the table and put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t worry. I started it.”

  She looked away, avoiding his eyes. Luisa ran up, ready to leave. Monica turned her back to him, put her arm on Luisa’s shoulder and walked a few steps away.

  So much for getting her out of his mind. No, now she was branded there.

  Chapter Four

  The next night, Monica gathered her script, along with her nerves, and emerged from the back to stand center stage. Her pages, marked weeks ago with green highlights of prop instructions were now enhanced with yellow highlights of Victoria’s lines. Victoria, the lead female character. Victoria, Trina’s part.

  It was difficult not to put a great sense of importance on this event – being named Trina’s understudy. A casual edict from Dave, the director when she’d approached him, “Sure, we need an understudy. Why don’t you do it?” belied the gravity of what he’d granted her. It was a chance to follow her dream.

  Her heart raced as she stood on the stage, looking out over the hundreds of empty seats, all lined in neat rows, ready to host a small army of theater-goers anticipating a night
of live entertainment, that amazing pleasure created by an ensemble of actors combined with talent, preparation and magic. The thought of failing terrified her. Lined up with the other actors in the lobby after the show, she dreaded shaking hands as audience members left, their looks of disappointment in her performance that fell short.

  It was easier to hide in the back, her props, sets and the darkness rescuing her from public scrutiny.

  Until now. Why now, did she talk to Dave and reveal her dream of being onstage? Her pulse raced through her veins, her breath coming shallower. A tingle of lightheadedness invaded her.

  Suddenly, the stage was bathed in bright light, and she wheeled away from it, protecting her eyes.

  “Hey, star!” She heard Steve’s shouted voice from the lighting booth in the back, and instantly missed his intimate whispered voice in her ear, via her headset. Leaving the bright lights on, she heard him trotting down the center aisle of the theater, heading her way. She gulped deep breaths, struggling to get herself and her emotions under control.

  He climbed up onto the stage and pulled her into a bear hug. She clung to his back, and when he started to pull away, she held on.

  “What …?” He took hold of her shoulders and gave her a firm shake, holding her a foot away so he could read her face. “Oh, I know. You’re nervous. This is the big night.”

  Monica sighed. “Steve, I’m not just nervous. I’m insane.”

  He laughed.

  “No, I’m serious. What the hell am I doing? I have no business being out here.”

  “Of course you do. You’re going to learn the role of Victoria, and if anything happens to Trina, or if she needs a night off, you’ll step in for her. You’ll do such an amazing job, next time you’ll be the star of your own show. You wait and see.”

  Her hands tingled and she closed her eyes to concentrate on deep breathing. “I can’t do it, Steve.”

  “Of course you can.” He gave her a firm nod and locked gazes with her.

  “I botched a ten-minute presentation to the Board this week. Totally screwed it up.”

  “So?”

  She shook her head. “If I can’t get a short presentation right, what makes me crazy enough to think I could get a whole play right?”

  He laughed. In fact, he laughed so hard and long she pulled herself out of her nervousness long enough to be ticked off at him. “What?”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “Sure it is. I …”

  “Monica, look at me. You can do it. You were born to be up here. You just have to discover that and accept it. You’ve got your chance. Make the most of it.”

  She looked down at the wooden floor, pieces of masking tape occasionally marking a spot. “You sound so sure.”

  “That’s because I am sure. Will you be nervous? Yes, anyone would be. But don’t let that stop you from giving it your best try. That would be a real shame. And you know what? I’ll be here with you every single step.”

  Although her pulse rate had returned to normal and she no longer felt dizzy, she stared at the floor, determined to face her fears.

  “Got it?” Impatient, Steve reached out and put a finger under her chin, pulling her head up to face him. She couldn’t help the grin that crept onto her face. He had so much faith in her. Unfounded faith, but for right now, it was exactly what she needed.

  “Yeah.”

  The actors convened in the front row of seats, some climbing onto the stage. Steve gave her a fortifying squeeze of her arm, then headed back to the lighting booth. Monica retreated away from the actors a bit. She hoped Dave would announce her new position tonight, and she felt fairly certain they’d be happy for her. At least, most of them would.

  She didn’t have to wait long because Dave bustled on stage, his shabby notebook in his arm. “Okay, folks, I have several notes to share from last night’s rehearsal, and I want everyone’s attention, please.”

  The actors settled in, soaking in the instructional notes. A few marked their scripts as he spoke. Finally, Dave finished with his handwritten notes and looked up, gazing around till he spotted her. “Oh yes, one more thing. Monica, our very own theater manager and props goddess, will be doubling as Trina’s understudy. She’ll begin tonight rehearsing the role of Victoria.”

  Monica managed a small grin when many members of the company approached her and patted her on the back. “Great job, Monica. Looking forward to working with you.”

  She heard raucous applause and cheers from one particular person in the lighting booth. She burst out in a delighted laugh.

  Trina stomped over to Dave, her face stormy after the understudy revelation. Trina’s frown, scrunched eyebrows and pointed index finger punctuated words Monica didn’t want to hear. Dave rubbed a tired hand over his eyes, shook his head and responded in a softer volume. He nodded and even tried a pat-pat-pat to her shoulder. She gave an exaggerated shrug, effectively pushing his hand away.

  Monica felt a small jolt of sympathy for putting him through that. Of course, Dave was the director, which was often akin to having a bulls-eye painted on your chest.

  Shortly, Trina must have felt she’d made her point because she twirled and stomped away from him. Monica could swear she felt little reverberations through the stage floor from her fury.

  Monica turned slightly and locked gazes with David. He gave her a small smirk and a thumbs up gesture.

  She was now an understudy. She crossed her fingers that she’d get her chance to perform live.

  Or not.

  Carlos had driven her to distraction from the moment she met him, but after that amazing kiss he’d laid on her last week, she could think of little else. Even when he wasn’t around, her body was on full alert. When she was engaged in some kind of productive activity, like work, or helping Luisa with her homework, he was at the back of her brain, never straying far, along with the memory of his lips on hers. But when he was in the room, she’d study him surreptitiously, collecting memories she could pull out at times he wasn’t present – a constant arsenal to drive her crazy and set her whole world on end.

  “Thanks for coming over, Monica. I can’t wait to get my science project back and tell you what I got on it.” Luisa bobbed on her toes, her movement and her smile revealing her excitement.

  She leaned down and gave Luisa a kiss on the top of her head, just to the front of her sweet-smelling ponytail. “It’s a project you should be very proud of. I know Mrs. Bakewell is going to love it.”

  Monica moved to the front door and Luisa grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “See you Saturday, right?”

  Monica did a quick mental calculation. “No. Remember we went to the movies last Saturday, so we don’t see each other this weekend.”

  A fleeting pouty lip was the only indication the news bothered the girl, then back to her smile. Someday, she’d have a happy daughter and she prayed she’d be just like Luisa. Someday.

  Monica had just closed the door behind her and released the knob when it opened again. Carlos stood in the doorway. Her heart immediately leapt into her throat. She hadn’t even known he was home this evening.

  His mouth curled in a lazy smile and he leaned one broad shoulder against the doorjamb. He cleared his throat and gave his head a shake, driving his hair back from his forehead. “Hey, I have a question for you.”

  A question about the Big Sister program, most likely. Well, she’d be happy to answer any question he had since he’d been so much more welcoming as of late. “Anything.”

  “Would you go out with me?”

  Monica stared at him, suddenly breathless. A million daydreams over the last week had begun this way. Had she lost track of reality for a moment? Her fingers ached to plow through his dark wavy strands, brush against his full lips and poke into the adorable dimples that only revealed themselves when he smiled.

  “I – uh … what?”

  He chuckled, humored by her indecision. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

>   “Easy….?” Not only was the man beautiful, but his voice, so deep and rumbly, and its exotic accent made her want to do things she’d never considered doing with any other man. In fact, it was because she found him so attractive that it pained her so to say, “No.”

  Which prompted a delighted grin from him. “So you do plan to be easy for me, is that it?”

  Monica let a small gasp escape her lips. She’d led him to the wrong conclusion. “No! I mean, no, I can’t go out with you.”

  Carlos’ eyebrows joined together in a frown, his eyes squinting. “I see.”

  In fairness to him, Monica suspected he didn’t hear those words very often, at least not from a woman.

  His study of her continued. “I guess I got the impression when you …. When we …” He cleared his throat and gave his head a shake again.

  She felt her face warming as she remembered their kiss on the picnic table. She had to admit it was rather strange. How many times had she dreamed of going out with Carlos? Although most of her daydreams didn’t involve tame, civilized dates with Carlos – more hot carnal moments than anything else. Her face and neck grew hot as her daydreams and the reality of the man himself, intersected.

  She swept her gaze across his face, landing on his eyes. “It’s just that I’m Luisa’s Big Sister. You’re, of course, her brother. It wouldn’t be right if we developed a dating relationship. We need to keep it platonic, you know, for her sake.”

  There, she’d done it. She rejected Carlos’s request for a date. And it even sounded reasonable, too. Professional.

  He looked at her with an amused expression. “You’re turning me down because you think my little hermana wouldn’t approve of us?”

  Monica nodded. “Not only that. It’s really important to me to do a good job with this. I don’t want to break the Big Sister rules and mess up the rapport I have with Luisa by going out with her brother.”

  Carlos eyed her. “You’re a real by-the-rules type, huh?”

  Monica felt a heat develop in her cheeks and she knew the embarrassing flush of red would soon follow. “Yes. Always. You’re not though, I suppose?”