All Hours Read online

  “When has that ever stopped anyone in this family from doing anything?”

  He had a point. “Go home to your wife.”

  His cousin put a hand on his good shoulder and squeezed. “Go home and think about what I said—both about the restaurant and about Felix.”

  “Shut up.” He would have thought about Felix regardless of whether he’d come up during what was supposed to have been a business meeting with Javi. But now that he’d gotten a look inside the other man’s head, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  Chapter 7

  Felix’s palms were sweaty as he waited outside Joaquin’s condo door. He’d never been there, but Lola had given him the address. The doorman had been told to let him up, and he’d had to work to keep his jaw in place as he’d gone up the fancy glass elevator. Because the Hernandez family was mostly pretty low key about their wealth, he was often caught off guard when he got reminders of how much money the Hernandez and Delgado families had amassed after moving from Cuba to the United States.

  He and Maya hadn’t come from nothing, but they’d struggled. Their mom had often worked two jobs to keep up with the rent on a shitty two-bedroom apartment in Harlem where he and Maya had shared a bedroom. As an adult, the fact that he could afford a mortgage payment on a cute little house in Miami had become a point of pride for him. Roman had always thought it was quaint that he wanted to stay in his bungalow when—together—they could have afforded something much bigger in a tonier neighborhood, but he’d gone along with it.

  Maybe it was because he hadn’t really planned on staying for the long haul anyway?

  When Joaquin opened the door and smiled at him, Felix struggled not to let his jaw hit the floor again. He’d seen the man smiling—kind of—on the cover of a magazine but wasn’t prepared for a genuine smile from him. He could never be prepared for the bolt of electricity it sent through all his circuits or the smooth honey sensation it sent down his spine.

  Joaquin Delgado welcoming him into his home was an aphrodisiac in and of itself. He had to remind himself that this was a business meeting like it was his new mantra. That kiss in the walk-in cooler, as fuck-hot as it had been, was not going to happen here. He was not going to end up in Joaquin’s bedroom, and there would be absolutely no dick sucking at the end of the night. Or the middle. Or the beginning.

  No matter how much Joaquin bit his fat bottom lip.

  “Come on in.” Joaquin turned, and Felix did not look at his ass as he walked away from the door. And he didn’t just stand there like a fool until the other man turned back and gave him a naughty grin over his shoulder. “Can I get you a drink?”

  Even though adding alcohol on top of his lust haze was a bad idea, he needed his senses a little bit dulled right now. He needed to not be aware of how good and clean smelling Joaquin’s place was. And he needed to not be reliving the short, soft strands of the other man’s hair against his fingers or the press of his lips against his throat just before he’d pulled away.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve got beer and whiskey.” Joaquin’s deep voice was like a shot of bourbon down his throat. His words alone could loosen his inhibitions and possibly make Felix come. This was such a bad idea.

  “Beer.”

  Joaquin walked into his—predictably state-of-the-art—kitchen and pulled two bottles of a local craft beer that Felix recognized out of the fridge. Their hands brushed as Felix took his beer, and the charge from the touch made him back away. Joaquin just looked down and smiled.

  Felix spotted an opener on the counter and grabbed it, popping the top. Then, he saw Joaquin looking down at his arm in a sling and likely trying to figure out how to open a bottle one-handed, and Felix grabbed his too.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” They met each other’s gazes as they clinked bottles.

  “Can’t afford seven years of bad sex right now.”

  Caught off guard, Felix barked out a laugh. “Did you just make a joke?”

  That earned him another smirk that sent a shiver through his whole body, which he covered up by moving toward the couch.

  “I’ve been known to make one or two on occasion.”

  “Wait until I tell Blanca.” Felix could just picture the surprise on the shy pastry chef’s face if he told her that the man who made her wake up in a cold sweat—and not in a good way—had actually cracked wise.

  “Don’t tell anyone.” And now the chef’s brow was furrowed again. “You’ll ruin my rep.”

  Felix mocked zipping shut his lips and throwing away the key. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  “It seems like my restaurant is too.”

  Felix warmed from head to toe because of Joaquin’s genuine compliment. He knew from talking to the staff that compliments from their head chef were to be cherished like jewels. “I hope so. No more changes to the menu.”

  “Any word about the Michelin people coming back through?”

  “Nah, front of the house hasn’t said anything.”

  “I’ve been thinking about trying some new stuff—” He lifted his arm slightly and winced. “But it’s impossible to cook with one hand.”

  “This has to be so frustrating for you.” Felix propped his head on his hand, arm resting on the back of the couch. They faced each other slightly, and the whole thing was crazy intimate. It almost felt as though they were a couple, sharing how their days went with each other. Because of busy schedules and the fact that Roman hadn’t really wanted to be in a relationship with him, they’d never had quiet moments like this. It had been all about the parties and the business meetings and the “business meetings” that Roman had always dismissed as temporary. “What have you been doing with your time?”

  Felix hadn’t handled having free time at the end of his relationship all that well. Even though he’d only seen Roman a few times a week toward the end, their time had still filled up some spaces. But the crumbs had just made his hunger for true partnership more acute.

  And workaholic Joaquin really wouldn’t handle being confined to his condo well. Felix knew that Joaquin’s schedule usually started at the crack of dawn at the fish market and various farmer’s markets around town. Then he headed straight for his kitchen, working on refining and perfecting dishes so that the menu could change every few weeks—reviews always talked about how surprising his dishes were. Then, after eating whatever dish he was trying to perfect that day in his office, he worked every service until the end, sometimes not clearing out of Cielo until two in the morning.

  “You’re going to laugh at me.”

  “Never.” The way he looked right now, all relaxed in Felix’s favorite item of clothing on a man—gray sweatpants—and the same black T-shirt he’d worn into the restaurant, the last thing Felix could do with his mouth would be to laugh at him. He wanted to pounce on him and kiss him again until they were panting and sweaty. He wanted Joaquin to never be able to look at the couch that had become his prison again without thinking of Felix taking his cock down his throat and sucking so hard he saw stars. “I promise I won’t laugh.”

  “I’ve been watching the Food Channel.”

  “I can see how that would be really relaxing for you.” He had to bite his lip to keep the laugh he’d promised to suppress at bay. “I would have advised you to watch Real Housewives. Or, like Top Chef, if you really needed to bring the office home.”

  “The restaurant I started out at in Miami hosted filming for one of those Housewives shows.”

  “Really?” Felix leaned in, partly because he loved gossip, and partly because he wanted to get closer to Joaquin now that he was sharing an intimacy. “What was it like?”

  “There was a lot of coke residue to clean up in my bathroom, and no one ate the food.”

  “What a waste.” Jesus, did his voice always sound that husky?

  And was he imagining Joaquin lean
ing closer to him? “Yeah.”

  No, he wasn’t. “I really want to kiss you again right now.”

  “It’s not a good idea.”

  “I know that, but I’m starting to forget why it’s such a bad idea.”

  “You technically work for me.”

  “That’s temporary.”

  “It might not be.”

  Felix pulled back, the moment broken. “What do you mean?”

  “My meeting with Javi.” Joaquin gulped, and Felix watched the muscles of his throat flex. Did it always look like that man was moving in slow motion? “He wants to bring you in on the new restaurant we’re thinking of building.”

  Maya had mentioned something in passing, but it sounded like charity. And Felix was not about milking his family for jobs or financial support. He knew his sister would do just about anything to keep him in Miami, but this was going too far. “I couldn’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  So many reasons—the fact that accepting some sort of business partnership with the man in front of him would necessarily curtail them fucking was the least of them.

  “I don’t want to be anyone’s charity case.”

  “It wouldn’t be charity.”

  “I don’t fit your image.” Joaquin would hardly be able to argue with that. Cielo was light and airy and clean lines. It was completely modern. Felix was more street truck than fine dining. The fact that he hadn’t run Joaquin’s restaurant to the ground in the last couple of weeks was kind of a miracle, and it was pure luck.

  “This would be a different concept—more casual, fun, but still Cuban food, French style.”

  It was a compelling offer. Felix really liked the idea of running his own business, and he could learn so much from Joaquin. Even if that meant that they couldn’t sleep together.

  “So, are you interested?” Joaquin looked at him as though he was really worried that Felix would say no. He still wasn’t completely comfortable with the level of nepotism involved. “Even though you’ve been doing small-scale catering for the past few years, I think you’re really talented and well trained.”

  “You have to stop with the compliments.”

  “If I stop, will you say yes?”

  “Maybe.” Felix looked down. “The whole not-kissing-you thing is a pretty big drawback.”

  Joaquin’s lips quirked, and he leaned close again. So close that Felix caught the seductive scent of his skin and the slight malt smell of the hoppy beer. “That is a drawback.”

  “How are we going to make this work?” Felix reached out and rubbed Joaquin’s beard with one finger, which made the other man shiver. There was no way that someone wasn’t going to end up on his knees in a dark corner if they kept up this level of flirtation. And they wouldn’t be able to run a business together if they were fucking—that was for sure. No one would believe he’d succeeded on his own merits if his brother-in-law financed him, and his boyfriend designed the menu with him.

  “People are going to assume we’re fucking no matter what.”

  “Why? Because we’re both gay?”

  “Nope.” Joaquin surprised him then by biting the tip of Felix’s finger. Shit, and just like that, he was fully hard. “Because I won’t be able to stop eye-fucking you in front of people.”

  That was a problem. This sudden onset of crazy-horny-I-need-to-fuck-you-right-now energy was a palpable thing between the two of them. It was entirely out of their control.

  Hell, he’d just come over to give a status report and drink a beer, and they were nearly sitting in each other’s laps.

  “What are we going to do about it?”

  Joaquin leaned over and put his empty beer bottle on his coffee table, and then met his gaze full on with a dazzling smile. “I think we should fuck.”

  Felix hadn’t been taking a drink, which was a good thing because he choked on his own spit. Those words, coming out of this man’s mouth as he looked him straight in the eye, were completely terrifying and bone-meltingly sexy.

  Felix was all about it, ready to say yes and then go straight to the bedroom, but he couldn’t be sure that he’d heard the other man correctly.

  “We should fuck?”

  He got a slow nod. “Just until I’m back at the restaurant and we’re at full capacity.”

  This was a good offer that Felix wanted to take. He could rebound from Roman by getting under—and over and next to—Joaquin and then get back out there again once they got the new restaurant up and running. But something made him hesitate. The way he was starting to feel about Joaquin was bigger than what he’d felt for Roman at first.

  And losing Roman had turned him into a hot mess. Could he really risk sleeping with Joaquin and getting attached—even once?

  “You’re hesitating.”

  Felix bit his lip and broke their little staring contest. He couldn’t tell Joaquin that he was afraid of falling in love with him. He admired his skills and determination. He adored this man’s extended family. Whenever Joaquin looked at him there was something in his chest that started beating his wings—it made him feel alive again. All of it was more than just sex. Sex with Joaquin would be mind blowing, and the ending would be terrible. “I am.”

  “Why? Did I not read that kiss correctly?”

  “You did.”

  “It was crazy hot.”

  “Crazy hot.” He had to agree. “But don’t you think sex will make things complicated—more complicated?”

  “Sex always complicates things.” Joaquin put his hand on Felix’s knee and rubbed, igniting the skin underneath his jeans. “But I think this is already pretty complicated.”

  It was—Felix’s feelings for Joaquin were already a jumble. Adding a few orgasms to the mix might even clarify things. “That’s true.”

  “I think this is the only way.” Joaquin kissed his cheek then said in his ear, “There’s no way out of this thing between us but through it.”

  Did he think that they could screw a few times and then move on like it was no big deal? If anything, Felix predicted that his feelings would get a whole lot bigger. Maybe the attraction was just sort of irritating for Joaquin, and not something that felt like it would eat him alive?

  “Why me?” Felix pulled back. “You didn’t even like me a week ago.”

  “I didn’t not like you.”

  “But you didn’t want to fuck me?”

  “Until recently, you had a boyfriend.”

  “But we were open, and you could have made your move.”

  “That would have been messy.” Joaquin sighed. “And I’m not into that. I wouldn’t like not having your full attention.”

  That warmed Felix up from head to toe again, sort of like that smile he’d gotten when he’d knocked at the door. Just more proof that this thing with Joaquin was more trouble than he was looking for. “I wouldn’t have liked that either.”

  “But you’re still not going to say yes.” The frustration rolled off Joaquin in waves, and it made Felix want him even more—if that was possible.

  “I still technically work for you.” But he didn’t back away from the burly, intense man who made him so hard with barely any effort.

  “Technically, my grandmother hired you.”

  “So that we would get to know each other and subsequently fuck.”

  “I think she wants us to get married.” Felix bit his lip to keep inside how much he kind of liked that idea. He wanted to be married to someone like Joaquin—someone intense, sexy, and most of all, committed. Someone he liked.

  “But that’s not what this is going to be.”

  “It can’t be.”

  He knew the Delgados had some dark, painful family shit in their past. And he knew they were all initially resistant to their grandmother’s setups. But he and Maya also had a fucked-up family growing up—their father had gon
e to prison for attacking their mother after she’d found out that he had a whole other family on the Lower East Side.

  And that hadn’t stopped him from looking for love. Apparently, in all the wrong places.

  “You need to think about this.”

  Felix had already thought about this. A lot. But he couldn’t say any of the things he was thinking about Joaquin without spilling shit that would keep anything from happening.

  “I need some time.”

  Joaquin cupped his face, and for a moment he hoped it was the prelude to another soul-searing kiss. At the same time, he hoped it wasn’t. There was no way he’d be able to resist another sensual onslaught from this man. Even though he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to deny him, even if this was destined to be a short-lived affair, he wanted to stand his ground now.

  That way, even when he did fall, he might still have a shred of pride to hold on to.

  * * * *

  The next morning, the family carousel through Joaquin’s condo continued with his sister. He was almost surprised she’d shown up, what with her being ready to pop any day now.

  He opened the door and said, “Please don’t have the baby on my couch. I can’t move another one in here in my condition, and I don’t think the cleaning lady would approve of having to remove that stain.”

  Laura pushed against his chest, not giving him much consideration for his injury. She wouldn’t, considering that she’d had more injuries from her ballet career than he’d had cuts from the kitchen. “Shut up and grab me a juice.”

  He went to the kitchen while she waddled over to the couch. Before she’d gotten married and knocked up, they hadn’t spent much time together. He was over a decade older than her and had been out of the house not long after she transformed from a toddler to a mini prima ballerina.

  One thing they’d always shared was a single-minded focus on work, and now that they’d grown closer after their parents’ divorce and their mother entering rehab, he found it soothing to be around her. She understood him in a way that not many other people did.

  “Seriously, aren’t you due—like—today?”