“That’s really old. Do you know my grandpa?”
“No, I don’t.” The child was pure innocence, reminding Cruz not to get too close.
“My papa’s a good cook.”
Cruz pushed the basket of chips toward Dani. “Help yourself.”
She grabbed a chip and took tiny bites with her tiny teeth. “My daddy died.”
Shocked at her blunt statement, Cruz fumbled for something to say. “I’m sorry.”
“Mama wants Papa to come live with us.”
Pity for the child and her mother filled Cruz, surprising him. He hadn’t believed he had any compassion left in him, but the little girl’s sweetness tugged at a place deep inside him—a place he’d shut the door on as soon as he’d been locked up inside the prison walls.
“Dani.” The blonde returned. “I’m sorry. My daughter is a chatterbox and we don’t get many customers.” She set the meal and drink on the table then brushed a strand of hair from Dani’s face. “You miss your friends back home, don’t you?”
Cruz wanted to ask where home was but didn’t.
Dani pointed. “Cruz can be my friend.”
Sara quirked an eyebrow and he felt as if he’d just been reprimanded. He held out his hand. “Cruz Rivera.” She shook his hand and the calluses on her palm surprised him.
“Nice to meet you.” Sara switched her attention to her daughter. “Go into the kitchen and help Papa with the dishes.” Sara grabbed her daughter’s hand and helped her from the chair, then they left him to eat in peace.
Cruz savored his first bite of real food, letting the spices soak into his tongue before chewing. A lump formed in his throat as he swallowed. Once the first bite hit his stomach, he devoured the meal.
“Oh, my,” Sara said when she returned with a water pitcher and gaped at his empty plate. “You must have been starving.”
“It was real good.”
“I’ll make sure to tell my father-in-law.”
Without asking a single question Cruz knew more about the lives of three strangers than he knew about himself anymore. Sara set the bill down and walked off.
He left a twenty on the table, then stood. He didn’t want to wait for his change—a hefty tip would be his first good deed since leaving prison. He snuck out of the house, hopped into Shorty’s truck, then started the engine and flipped on the AC. Then he sat and stared at the damned donkeys.
After five minutes he shut off the truck and entered the restaurant where he found Sara clearing his table. Their gazes met across the room. Man, her eyes were pretty.
You’re asking for trouble.
“You forgot your change,” she said.
He shook his head. “I was wondering about the Help Wanted sign in the window.”
“Are you interested?”
The excitement in her voice startled him. “What kind of help do you need?”
Sara glanced toward the kitchen doors, then closed the distance between them. “Let’s talk outside.” She hustled him out the door and he barely registered the electric shock that skittered across his flesh when she brushed against him.
“I need someone to clean up and make a few repairs so we can list the property.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I’m trying to convince my father-in-law to move to Albuquerque with me and Dani but this place will never sell in its current condition.”
“I could do that.”
“José doesn’t want to sell. He won’t be much help to you,” she warned him. “I can pay ten dollars an hour. I know that’s not much but you can stay in the trailer and use the shower in the house. Meals are free.”
She hadn’t even asked for a reference. Lucky for you.
Cruz figured he could spruce up the place and be back on the road in less than a week with a few hundred dollars in his pocket. “That’s fine.”
Her smile widened but then she suddenly frowned. “You don’t carry a gun, do you?”
Unless he wanted to violate his parole and land back in prison, he didn’t dare possess a weapon. “No, ma’am. You’re welcome to search my truck and my personal belongings.”
“I trust you.”
She shouldn’t.
“I don’t like guns.” She hugged herself and stared into space, then shook her head. “I’m afraid the trailer doesn’t have air-conditioning and most of the windows are broken or missing.”
“Not a problem.” He’d rather breathe fresh air at night.
“While you settle in, I’ll break the news to José.” She squared her shoulders. “He won’t like you being here, but he doesn’t have a say in what I do with my money.”
Yet it was José’s property. Cruz kept his mouth shut and watched Sara’s swinging hips disappear inside the house.
That was the dumbest thing he’d done since he’d been released from prison and considering that he’d only been a free man for a few hours, his future looked more uncertain than ever.
* * *
“WE DON’T NEED HELP,” José grumbled.
Sara removed the clean enchilada pan from his hands and dried it. She wasn’t sure what to make of Cruz Rivera showing up out of the blue asking for work, but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “He’s only staying until the property is de-cluttered.”
The guarded expression in the new handyman’s eyes should have scared Sara away, but she was at her wits’ end trying to deal with her stubborn father-in-law. If there was any cause for concern it was her reaction to Cruz—just saying his name in her head made her stomach flutter. He was the first man to have her counting back the months since she’d last had sex—seventeen, to be exact.
Cruz was cowboy and bad boy wrapped together in one sexy, dark, dangerous package. She’d noticed him studying her and the appreciative gleam in his brown eyes had contradicted his distant attitude.
“There’s nothing wrong with this place.” José wasn’t a hoarder but after the death of his son, the sixty-five-year-old had grown depressed and had little energy or enthusiasm for chores. As a result, boxes and empty bulk-food containers had piled up. Papago Springs didn’t have trash service and the handful of residents either burned their garbage or hauled it to the dump. José hadn’t made a trip to the landfill in ages.
When she and Dani had arrived a month ago, she’d had all she
