Chapter Eighteen
Working with Ramón in the restaurant had gone surprisingly well. Julieta had expected him to question her about each and every decision she had made in her place, but he didn’t do that at all. He showed up on time every morning, immediately put on his apron, and went straight to the kitchen.
And he did a great job, also. His chopping skills were decent, and even the customers liked him when he brought their meals out to the table.
Granted, they were probably just drooling over how gorgeous he was, but honestly, who could blame them?
Julieta was in awe over him, too. His wardrobe had devolved from business suits to fitted T-shirts and jeans. His biceps bulged out of his sleeves, and Julieta found herself distracted multiple times a day, staring at him.
Ramón grabbed an apron, and Julieta put her hand on his chest. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m getting ready to cook.”
Nope. Julieta didn’t need or want Ramón in the kitchen. Ever since they’d kissed in the garden earlier this week, Julieta had been trying to keep her distance from Ramón. She had been caught up in the moment, and until his intentions were clear, she didn’t want to risk her job over some hot sex.
Well, maybe she did. It was complicated.
“Ramón, I appreciate all your help in the kitchen, but maybe you should do your business stuff.”
“Good idea. May I look over your books?”
By books, did he mean all the handwritten pages of notes she took daily? Did those qualify as books?
“Ah, sure. Let me get them.”
Julieta went to the tiny office in the back room. He followed closely behind her.
She sat behind the desk and grabbed a bunch of papers in a tray.
The room was so small, and Ramón was so big. She could feel his magnetic energy beaming toward her. The door was still open—but she yearned to close it to be alone with him.
She stood up, straightened the papers out, and handed them to him.
Ramón took one look at the messy pile, then at Julieta, and then smirked. “You do know you can set up your systems on the computer, right?”
Julieta threw up her hands. “You lost me at systems.”
“Julieta...”
The way he said her name, deep and soft, made her stomach quiver. “Yes, of course, silly, but I’m not that great with them. I’m better with my hands.”
He stepped closer to her and grabbed her hand. The pressure built between them.
“Youaregreat with your hands.” He slammed the door and pressed her up against the wall, pinning her wrists above her head.
Ay, Dios mío.
Her breath faltered. His rock-hard body was crushed against her curvy one.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered. “The way you taste. The way you make me feel.”
He claimed her lips, and the kiss set her core on fire.
The clack of Mamá’s clogs startled Julieta. She wiggled away from Ramón’s arms.
“We should go,” she managed to mutter.
They tumbled out of the office, Ramón right behind Julieta.
