Read Online Team Tomás (The Saints Team #2) by Ally Adams - Free Book Online Page B

be able to swallow, let alone form a sentence.
    Moments later two tall glasses
appeared, with the most delicious mix of champagne in red and gold colors and
trimmed with mint. Tomás thanked Rocco and now, it made sense.
    “Wow,” I said.
    Tomás nodded. “I know. Beautiful, and
you dressed to match the pink in the sunset,” he teased. The cocktail was the
exact same red as the sunset and we had a front row seat to it.
    “It’s called Beach Sunset, a Rocco
creation with orange juice, grenadine, champagne and a few other things. You
don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it, but it’s not too lethal,” he
teased, remembering my last encounter with alcohol and my night in his bed
where nothing, and I mean nothing at all, zilch, zero, happened. I think I went
as red as the cocktail and Tomás laughed.
    He raised his glass. “To beauty,”
he said.
    I clinked glasses with him and had
a sip—divine. Behind us the sun was a huge ball of red, pink, orange and gold hues
sinking into the ocean and if we did nothing else tonight, this would have been
enough—so perfect.

 
    Chapter 13
     
     
    “Next, I’m going to dine you, Al... iss,” Tomás said,
in his sexy Spanish accent, “but I will make you work it off later,” he teased.
He left some dollars on the table and I noticed a very generous tip, waved
goodbye to Rocco and we went back to his car. From there we spun into town to a
tiny tapas bar called Granada .
    We left the car, he took my hand in
his, and we entered a small but crowded restaurant. Again Tomás knew all the
staff and there were kisses and handshakes as we were led to a private little
room and seated in our own booth. That didn’t stop the flow of interruptions,
but in a way I welcomed them. I could watch Tomás without blatantly staring;
watch the way his smiled, laughed, related to people. The way he dipped his
head just a bit shyly sometimes, the way he eyes lit up and became guarded when
he wasn’t sure.
    And I was introduced as the woman
with him; everyone was checking me out. I wonder how many of Tomás’s women they
had met in the year that he had been with the Saints. Most of all Tomás was a
good guy, a really good guy. To me, he was sweet and generous with his
affections. The only bad things I had discovered so far about Tomás were that
he liked to play the scene and was, according to the ladies at the Shaken
Not Stirred bar, a bit rough. I guess if he was not in a relationship and
was hot, single and in demand, there was nothing wrong with that. Except, I
hoped to change his relationship status. I wondered if playing the field had a
use-by date. Was a couple of years enough or did some people want to do it for
life? I wondered what Tomás wanted.
    “ Bella ,” Tomás said,
getting my attention, “this restaurant has a tapas-only menu, an excellent one.
Do you trust me to order for us?”
    “Please,” I said, and within
minutes a very attractive Latin American waitress joined us and greeted Tomás as
if she knew him, carnally. I watched and internally panted as he ordered in
Spanish without opening the menu. We both ordered colas to drink—Tomás was
driving and training early in the morning and I wasn’t going for a repeat
performance of last time, even though I’d be happy to revisit Tomás’s bed.
    Tomás sighed and took my hands
across the table. “This place, the food is very authentic,” he said, with what
I thought was a hint of melancholy.
    “Where is home?” I asked, studying
his beautiful features.
    “Buenos Aires.” The words rolled
off his tongue. “Beautiful city, very European, it is often called the ‘Paris
of South America’—think the tango, artists, writers, theatre, historic
architecture, wild nightlife and of course, beautiful people.” His eyes looked
soulful as he spoke of home.
    I was still working on the image
of Tomás dancing the tango in my head, with its dominant, long sensual moves. I
cleared my throat. “When did you last go