Head Over Wheels (Steamy New Adult Romance) (20 page)

I
ndigo and I decided to rendezvous at Grand Central Station at eight a.m. to catch an eight-twenty train. I arrived at seven-forty-five and waited in front of one of my favorite breakfast stands.

I'd told Indigo to dress very casual, as I wasn't sure of what we'd be doing. Watching him stride into the terminal, I almost fell over, my senses reacting the same way as the first day we met. He wore relaxed jeans, a pale blue tee covered by a long-sleeved plaid shirt that lay open, the flaps rippling as he moved.

At my request, he'd been letting his hair grow, and it curled over the collar. Whether or not he'd shaved I couldn't tell, but a hint of shadow highlighted the area of his face where a man's beard usually grew.

"You made it on time." I walked toward him, my lips spreading into a slow smile. By the look on his face, I knew he could read my every emotion. Regardless of the time of day, the location, our eyes transmitted a mutual electricity, relaying a powerful message.

"Of course I'm here on time, babe. I wouldn't miss this for anything. In fact, I've been gearing up for this visit since you invited me." He winked, then his lips touched my forehead. "Didn't have a chance to grab my morning coffee, though."

"No problem." I swept an arm across the front of a glass case overloaded with mini pies and pastries. "Pumpkin? Apple? Cherry?" I stared up at him with concern. "I hope you're not counting calories today. These are nothing like you'd find in my Dad's bakery, but like they say, make do with what you have and don't bitch cuz things could be worse."

He chuckled. "You can take the girl out of the bakery, but not the bakery out of the girl." He slipped an arm around my waist and squeezed. "You're the expert. You make the selection." He had the sexiest habit of burying his cheek against my hair, the way a snuggling kitten would when it purred and burrowed against its human's chest.

"One pumpkin and one apple mini, please, and throw a plastic knife in the bag. And a lot of napkins, and two mocha lattes, extra foam. Not in the bag." I joked with the guy behind the counter. Deepening my dimples, I faced Indigo. "I can never make up my mind. We'll share." I ran my tongue over my top lip.

His eyes were as soft as the touch of his fingers as he stroked the side of my face and lifted my chin. "Does that statement apply to everything?"

"That's something you'll have to keep guessing about, smarty pants." Staring up at him, I crinkled my nose.

He kept outdoing himself, making my legs go weak, my stomach drop. Would the way he made me feel ever stop? I didn't want to know the answer. Then a voice brought the flow of blood back into my limbs as it shot through the PA system, announcing the number of our train and its departure time.

"Ooh." My shoulders jerked with excitement. "Train's almost ready to pull out. Let's hoof it." I grabbed the bag off the counter, and Indigo snatched the lattes. We fell into a perfectly timed trot.

Mounting the steps, I noticed a rolled up magazine sticking out of his back pocket, not quite hooded by his shirttail.

"What's this?" Standing in the aisle I pulled it out and let the glossy pages unravel. I arched my brows. "Cycling?"

"I thought I might read it on the train." He grinned.

I took a swat and the magazine connected with the wallet in his other back pocket, resounding with a loud crack. "No way. You've got me to keep you occupied for an entire hour and forty minutes." I pouted. "No reading."

"That long, huh? I don't know if I can take it." He shook his head.

"Me or the ride." I smacked his arm. "Well, maybe not that long if this train's an express, which it might be. Okay, I've got your undivided attention for at least an hour then."

"Yes, ma'am. Now can we take a seat? Unless you want to lap your latte off this disgustingly dirty floor." He faked a scowl. "Because this train's about to pull out of the station."

"You silly." I bumped his hip with mine. "You ride the subway, don't you? What jerks the bum bum more than that?"

"Actually, I don't ride the subway."

"Oh ... just climb in, will you?" I shot him another jolt of my hip, but when the train took off I boomeranged against him, laughing.

We chose opposing seats in the rear of one of the last cars where we could face one another in comfort. With the exception of an older couple, and a few teens at the far end, we had the car to ourselves. As soon as the conductor clipped our round trip tickets, I tore into the bag.

"I'm starving." I handed Indigo a fork and napkins.

"So am I. Those pies look delicious. Here you go." He held out my latte.

We sipped our drinks and dug into spicy pumpkin and juicy apples, stuffing our mouths as if we hadn't eaten in a week. Between bites we chatted, laughing as we wiped pie from each other's lips.

I kicked off my flats, ran a foot up and down his calf. "I see you came prepared. I like your hiking boots." I stuck a toe through the loop of one brown boot, playing with the lace until it loosened and uncoiled.

"You're a little brat." He snatched my toes, tugging on my foot, pulling me to the edge of the seat. "As soon as we finish eating, you can come over here and give me a real massage." He fluttered his brows.

"Hey," I yelped when my butt all but slid off the slippery vinyl. "Is physical contact all you ever think about?" I shook my head, disguising my delight.

"Look who's talking." He laughed. "I had a hard week. I could use a nice massage ... good company ... relaxation."

"I'm afraid all you'll be getting today is the second of your three desires."

"We'll see about that." He winked.

The train picked up speed and we left behind urban areas, some isolated, some with graffiti decorated buildings. Then the ride smoothed out, along with the scenery, as serenity unfolded. We followed the Hudson River most of the way, now and then the car jostling on the track.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I said, gazing out the side windows, watching blossoming foliage slide past my left, the quiet Hudson on my right, endlessly peaceful, but a murkier color than I would have liked. "Imagine how clear that water must have been before man got his hands on it?" My voice was wistful, but I couldn't help but anger.

"Next time we'll take my boat." Indigo smiled. "We can go tubing. Get all nice and sludgy together."

"Let me guess, and a nice warm shower afterward." When my eyes bulged, he laughed.

"I'm joking about the tubing, but the shower would be nice." He sipped, then licked latte foam from his lips.

"Do you own a yacht?" My question was spoken with innocence, although I would have chosen a smooth sail over a noisy train ride any day.

"I'm afraid not, babe." He almost choked on his last mouthful of latte. "I'm more the speed boat type."

Just what I'd figured all along. Smug, I curled my lips. "Fourth of July on the Sound, right?"

"Yes, and it's spectacular. So what am I in for during today's visit?" We sat knee to knee, near enough for him to reach me with his fork and shove pumpkin pie into my mouth, laughing when it smeared across my cheek. "You've got to help me with this. You stuffed me so full of apples ..." He flopped back against his seat, sliding the fork over his lips and tongue, then patted his flat stomach.

"Umm," I put a hand over my bulging lips."You wait." I giggled, attempting to swallow without choking. "Payback in Poughkeepsie. And you may have to come over here and give me CPR if you keep trying to block my airway with pie." I snorted and he let out a burst of laughter.

"How big is your family, anyway?" He compressed our cups and containers into the bag and folded it neatly.

"Two sisters, one brother in law, a younger brother, and a soup de jour girlfriend might be there. One never knows when dealing with Antonio."

"Your brother's Antonio."

"And my father, but in this case, I'm talking about Tony."

"I thought you said there were five of you."

"There are."

He shook his head. "So now two and two make five. Okay. Whatever you say." Reaching across the seat he grabbed my hand, pulled me over his legs, and plopped me down beside him.

"Your seat's more padded than mine. Not fair." I snuggled under his arm, buried my lips in his neck. Coming up for air, I threw an arm around his chest, a leg over his, and squeezed. "You're so nice and cuddly."

"And you are irresistibly huggable." Wrapping me in his arms he kissed me, his tongue gently parting my lips, but not entirely entering. When he drew back his eyes were heavy. "And you taste so much better than pie and latte." He gave me a big hug, then ruffled my hair, easing me back onto the seat. "Maybe you should give me a crash course on your family before we get there."

I slung my leg back over his, snuggling as close to him as possible. "Yeah. I guess it's time to warn you."

"You're starting to make me worry." He squeezed my kneecap and I let out a scream.

"Don't worry, they'll love you. Hopefully the feeling will be mutual." I slapped my palms on my thighs. "My family is wonderful. But kinda like acquiring a taste for scotch, they take some getting used to ... and can be somewhat overwhelming."

"Like you?" He kissed the tip of my nose.

I giggled, then ran my fingers through his hair. "I like playing with your waves."

He shot me a funny look, then tugged my ponytail loose, completely ransacking my hair. I pulled my brush from my purse and slapped it into his palm. "Here. Let's see if you can fix what you just destroyed. I feel like a mangy poodle."

He brushed my hair smooth, then swooped it off my shoulders, securing it back into a fluffy ponytail.

"Wow ... you do have the touch. As good as any hairdresser, I might add." I took his hand, inspecting its perfect proportions. "These fingers are very talented. You'll be a great surgeon someday."

"More than that, I hope." He tweaked my chin, then stared out the window.

"Okay. On to my family history." Nudging his arm, I drew a dramatic breath. "Teresa is ten. Tony is seventeen and graduating this year. Angelina is twenty-eight. She's the financial manager of a big company in Syracuse where she and her husband live. Her husband's name is David. He's a Fifth Avenue type of guy ... and was standoffish until my family broke him in." I chuckled. "Angelina doesn't let him get away with anything, either. He's an investment broker."

His gaze strayed out the window again, and I tugged his chin, recapturing his attention. "You're supposed to be learning about my family."

"I'm listening. Just relaxing." He ran a palm up and down my thigh. "High finances, huh? Any kids?"

"Not yet."

"So who's the fifth Delarosa?"

"My brother Ritchie ... the oldest ... is very much married and working on a family with Tricia. They live in Ohio, so we rarely get to see them. But we get a lot of phone calls and postcards."

"You must have nice holiday gatherings." He drew back, watching with enthusiasm.

"Oh, we do ... well, we did. We always had a houseful. My cousin took Ritchie's room when he left. My aunt and uncle split, so Jerold came to live with us. So there were always five of us sharing three bedrooms. But now Jerold's not around either cuz he's traveling with his band."

"What band is that?"

"Chasing Dinero."
I smirked. "Angelina's bright idea, and it caught on. You probably never heard of them."

"Played at the Century last year." He grinned.

"Oh my God. You were there?" How impressive was that? Why hadn't fate brought us together sooner?

"I was." He nodded, took my hand and analyzed my fingers, then pressed it on his thigh.

"We have so much in common." Popped out of my mouth before I could stop the veneration. I twisted the silver rose ring I always wore on my right ring finger.

"You've got such delicate fingers. It's hard to think of you wrestling guys twice your size to the ground. Cuffing them." I thought he sounded protective. "Let me see your ring." He snatched my hand from my lap. "I've noticed you wear it all the time. Just partial to it? Or is there a story behind it." He ran a fingertip over the rose in full bloom, then examined the amethyst buds on either side. "It's very pretty. Unusual."

I sighed. Blinking away tears pooling in my eyes, I angled my face toward the window. "I almost wasn't born. My mother had to stay in bed for the last four months of pregnancy. Something to do with blood pressure and proteins."

"Preeclampsia?"

"Yes. That's it. They strongly advised her to abort. She was that close to ..."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Indigo drew me close, stroked my hair. "At least you're here and your mom is fine. She's is, right?"

"Yup. She's fine. And my dad was so scared, and so happy we were both okay, that every year on my birthday I got a cake and my mom got pink roses – a symbol for joy. When I turned sixteen, he gave me this ring."

"That's a beautiful story, Jewel."

"That's when I got this." I leaned forward, yanking the collar of my knit shirt off one shoulder.

"Awesome ink." I felt a tingle as his fingers ran over my rose tattoo. "Mi Rosa Mi Joya?"