Unable to contain my excitement, I leapt off my chair and rushed toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “This is the coolest thing ever.”
“You deserve it, sweetie. I love you.”
I closed my eyes. “I love you, too…Dad.”
* * *
The salty air blew around me as I navigated the Mustang along the street, turning into the parking lot of my complex. After pulling it into my assigned garage, I killed the ignition, then grabbed my bags, a bounce in my step as I made my way toward my townhome, the sun warm on my face.
If there was any doubt in my mind about moving so far away from the only home I’d ever known, they were immediately dashed the second I arrived in San Diego a week ago. Sun. Sand. Surfers.
I’d officially arrived in heaven.
And after my first day at my new job as a physical therapist for the team here in San Diego, it confirmed what I felt in my heart the second I left my interview all those months ago.
This was where I belonged.
“Hey.”
I snapped my eyes up at the deep voice as I walked along the row of garages, heading toward my unit.
“Hello.” I smiled at the man I’d seen in passing over the past week, then continued on my way.
“I’m Mateo.”
I stopped, turning to face him.
“I live in 27B.” He nodded at the unit. “Next to you.”
I raked my gaze over him. Tall. Muscular. Dark hair that was slightly disheveled. Scruff on his jaw. A Spanish accent that made my toes curl.
I’d really hoped he wouldn’t say he lived remotely close to me.
But right next to me? Sharing a wall with me?
Our bedrooms sharing a wall?
And him looking like that?
If there were ever a time for me to pray to God for strength, it was now.
“I… I’m Imogene,” I finally managed to say.
He stepped toward me, the breeze kicking up his scent. A mixture of earth, ocean, and something…masculine. He extended his hand, and I allowed him to wrap his fingers around mine. I wasn’t short like my mama. But this man’s hands were massive compared to mine.
It made me wonder what else was massive.
“It’s nice to meet you, Imogene. I’m assuming you’re new to San Diego?”
“What makes you say that?” I asked, attempting to push down my growing inappropriate thoughts.
“Your accent.”
“By that rationale, I could say the same about you,” I replied with a smirk.
He smiled, running a hand through his hair.
It made me want to run a hand through his hair, too.