Fernando - Bad Boy Love (Bad Boy Love Series Book 1) (3 page)

Gwen walked down the boardwalk, observing the colorful people and buildings that made up Venice Beach. One side of the promenade was rimmed with palm trees, white sand beaches, and the Pacific Ocean. The other side held a variety of small shops, bistros, and cocktail lounges. All of them catered to the tourists and locals who frequented the area.

She spied Vivian waiting for her and waved at her best friend. “Hey, you beat me.”

“So I did.” The two women hugged and entered one of their favorite bars along the strip.

“This is exactly what I need after my crazy day,” Gwen said and chose one of the hi-top tables overlooking the promenade.

“Hey, I’m going to go wash up,” Vivian said, heading towards the bathrooms at the back of the small establishment.

“I’ll order for you.”

“Great. Anything on tap is fine.”

Signaling for the waitress, she watched her friend walk away. Vivian Armstrong and she had been best friends since high school and had even ended up at the same college. While Gwen had studied social work, graduating after four years with a Bachelor of Science in Social Work, Vivian had studied journalism.

Gwen had gone on to add some psychology and crime classes to her resume, but Vivian had shaken the dust of college off her feet and immersed herself in her career. A career that had ended up with her becoming a court reporter while she waited for her big break as an investigative journalist to materialize.

Vivian returned from the restroom and accepted the beer the waitress set before her. “Thanks.”

“No problem. You ladies enjoy.”

Vivian took a long sip and sighed. “God, I needed that.”

Gwen took a long drink of her own. “Tough day in court?”

“Not tough. Boooring. I mean, it’s a job with a steady income, and it pays the bills, but it’s not my dream.”

Gwen smiled. “You still set on following in Patrick’s footsteps?” Patrick Armstrong was Vivian’s cousin and a renowned photojournalist who spent his time travelling the world with his travel blogger girlfriend, Angela. Gwen had seen most of his work and it was good. Very good.

Vivian sighed and lean her cheek into her palm. “Yeah. But I wouldn’t want to constantly travel across the world like Patrick does. I want to investigate mysteries and solve crimes.”

“A traveling Sherlock Holmes.” Gwen laughed.

“Without the overcoat and hat, if you please.” Vivian patted her dark auburn hair in an exaggerated gesture. “I wouldn’t want to mess with perfection.”

Gwen shook her head at her friend’s antics. Vivian had long, very thick hair she wore in a haphazard ponytail most of the time. She never bothered to make sure it was perfectly combed straight; she just twisted it up and secured it with a clip. On Gwen, it would look like a serious case of morning bed hair, but on her friend, it looked amazing.

Vivian took another drink of her beer. “Enough about me, how was your day?”

“More of the same. You know yourself how staggering the relapse rate in this area of California is.” Gwen had been in this job for almost a year and had been disappointed more times than she cared to remember.

She’d graduated from college full of ideals and had chosen this line of work because she wanted to help people turn their lives around, only to wind up disillusioned when she discovered most of her probationers didn’t want to be helped. Not really. While they didn’t especially like their way of life – and the threat of a prison sentence – it was the easiest and most convenient way for them to live. Most of them shied away from the effort it took to clean up their act and start over again.

“But you knew that when you started the job. And if you can help only one person to lead an honest life, your effort hasn’t been in vain.” Vivian put an arm around Gwen’s shoulders. As a court reporter, Vivian was familiar with the reoccurrence of criminal behavior and had often told Gwen she should be happy if she managed to effect change in one out of every ten people.

“You’re right. And I got a new probationer today who might be different. I actually have a good feeling about him.”

“You think this one might actually want to leave his criminal past behind?”

Gwen mentally crossed her fingers. “I think his chances are better than most.”

“Maybe he’ll be your one.”

My one? Mine?

Gwen’s stomach twisted at the thought of him being hers. “Maybe.” She grinned and nudged Vivian’s shoulder as two muscled joggers approached the bar. They stopped for a moment to stretch, and Gwen started fanning herself. “Do you think they stopped here on purpose?”

“Probably. Look at those muscles.”

“I’m looking,” Gwen assured her with a soft laugh. “Aren’t we frequenting Venice Beach for the breathtaking scenery?”

Vivian sighed. “I sure wouldn’t push a guy like that from the edge of my bed.”

The joggers continued their run, and both women got a good look at their firm backsides. When they’d jogged out of sight, Vivian asked, “Isn’t your new probationer Fernando Garcia?”

Gwen stared at her friend. “How did you know that?”

“I was the court reporter during his trial.” Vivian gave her a sly glance. “Nothing to say about his looks?”

Gwen just barely kept herself from sighing like a lust struck teenager. “If you’ve already seen him, I don’t need to say anything.”

Vivian giggled. “Well, if he’s as hot up close as he appeared to be from far away, you should have fun meeting with him once a week.”

“He’s a client. But I agree, his physique is marvelous.” Gwen agreed with a giggle of her own. “God, his broad muscled chest and his strong arms. You should see them. There’s not a single trace of body fat on him anywhere.”

“Anywhere?” Vivian teased, her blue eyes sparkling.

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Come on, you know what I mean.”

“What makes you think he’s willing to change?”

Gwen hesitated for a moment. Normally, she wouldn’t dream of discussing one of her clients in detail, but since Vivian had been present in the courtroom and already knew his history, she gathered it wouldn’t do any harm. She wouldn’t divulge anything Vivian didn’t already know.

“He saved the guard. From what I understand, going against the other gang members like that could have been disastrous for him. If they’d turned on him, he might be dead along with the guard. But they didn’t, and that man is alive today because of his actions.”

“Yes, the guard was pretty grateful and vouched for him. That was the only reason he got away with probation. It wasn’t his first conviction, you know?”

Gwen nodded and traced a bead of condensation on her glass with her finger. “I read his file too. But there was something in the way he carried himself. As if he were ashamed of his ways. On top of that, I didn’t pick up any attitude from him at all during our first meeting.”

Vivian watched her friend for a moment with squinted eyes. “You’re falling for him.”

“What?” Gwen yelped, then looked around and lowered her voice. “Of course I’m not. You know better than that. I know better than that. It’s illegal to have a relationship with your probationer, remember? I do like my job – most of the time – and would like to keep it.” Gwen clamped her mouth shut and took a deep breath. She was on the verge of protesting too much. Then she kept protesting. “The man is a criminal. Even if he wasn’t my probationer, which he is, I don’t fall for guys on the wrong side of the law.”

“Okay, sure. My bad.” Vivian held up her hands and changed the subject. “My parents are having a barbecue next Sunday and would love to see you.”

“Next Sunday sounds great.” Gwen loved being around Vivian’s family. Her friend was the second youngest of six siblings. Being with her and her five brothers never ceased to be fun. And Vivian’s parents were the most lovable people she’d ever met. They had readily adopted Gwen into their large and close-knit family back when she’d become best friends with their daughter in high school. And even though she was now an adult, they still treated her as one of their own children.

Gwen’s parent’s lived across the country, and she had a solitary brother who lived in Paris, France. They rarely saw each other.

“What should I bring?” Gwen asked.

Vivian dropped a few bills on the table to pay for their drinks, and they headed towards the door. “You know better than to even ask. Mom will provide everything as usual. All you have to do is show up.”

Gwen smiled as they parted ways on the sidewalk. “That I can do. See you.”

Fernando dragged his feet toward the probation office, nervous about his meeting with Gwen. Last week had drained all the energy out of his bones
. She’ll be disappointed.
He didn’t understand why it mattered so much to him, but he wanted Gwen to be proud of him.

Thoughts of her had kept him beating the street all week, trying to find a job to meet the requirements of his probation, but after several attempts, he was still unemployed.

He thought about the last interview, where he’d applied for a temp job as a warehouse worker, but they’d still asked to see his resume. A sheet of paper that hadn’t existed one week ago. After the first interview, he’d written down – by hand – what he thought a resume should contain. But once and again the potential employers had frowned at his paperwork and talk about how inadequate it was. How inadequate he was.

During the course of this week, he’d felt like he’d been taking a ride in a spin-dryer. He’d gone from optimistic to enraged to humiliated to outright depressed. Hopeless. People like him didn’t get a second chance. He might as well accept that fact of life.

With hunched shoulders he walked up to the third floor, dreading the look of disapproval his probation officer would give him when he came with empty hands.

In the past, he’d always found work at the repair shop a friend of his had owned, which suited the requirements for probation just fine. But Nick died last year in a car accident. So no job. No one to vouch for him. This was the first time Fernando had been forced to hit the streets looking for work.

The warehouse supervisor had shaken his head over Fernando’s resume and finally asked him about his criminal record. It always came down to his past. Always. When Fernando had handed over that sheet as well, the eyes of the supervisor had shown his disgust.

“Mr. Garcia, we run an honest business here. How can I be sure you truly have cut ties with your gang?”

“Mr. Landry, I’m trying to get my life together,” he said with his most sincere expression and tone.

The older man hadn’t been impressed. “Well, unfortunately, that won’t happen here. I don’t mind hiring probationers, but not someone who’s been brainwashed by a gang for so many years. Even if I were willing to take a chance on you, without a high school diploma, my insurance rates would go through the roof.”

“What does my having a high school diploma have to–?”

“Mr. Garcia, my answer is no. Good luck.” Mr. Landry had turned and walked away, leaving Fernando once again frustrated and wondering how he was supposed to honor the terms of his probation if no one would give him a chance.

Meanwhile, he’d arrived on the third floor, room 326. Maybe Gwen would have some sort of good news to bring him out of his current funk. He rapped his knuckles on the door frame and pushed the door open as soon as he heard her sweet voice call out, “Come in.”

His balls tightened, and he walked into the room before he could turn around and run away.

Gwen looked up and smiled. “Fernando. You’re early.”

He barely nodded and lowered himself into the seat in front of her without a word, seriously considering skipping the probation stuff and doing what he knew to do. Running. Stealing. Fighting. His gang would welcome him back with a backslap and a beer. They wouldn’t ask for a resume or criminal record. They accepted him just the way he was.

But then you’ll go to jail. And who will take care of Amada?

“You don’t look like you had such a good week. Want to talk about it?” Gwen asked, her blue eyes clouding with concern.

He looked at her sweet face and shrugged. “No one will hire me.” He’d been sure he could find a job easy enough, but here he was, with empty hands. An empty future.

“Ah,” she said as if she’d been expecting that outcome. She cocked her head to the side and instead of disappointment he saw empathy. “Nobody said it would be easy. You need to keep trying.”

As her amazing blue eyes met his and her scent wafted to his nostrils, the chemistry between them flared to life. He leaned forward, forgetting everything and everyone around him except for the sensational woman a few feet away. His dick twitched when her eyes flared with desire as they dropped to fixate on his lips. He slowly licked the bottom one and hid a satisfied grin when she mirrored his action, her pupils dilating with pure lust. Lust for him.

He responded, an unknown heat coursing through his veins and pooling in his groin. The strain against his zipper had the effect of a cold shower, and he mentally cursed himself.

Give it a break. Nothing is happening between the two of you. Nothing.

Just as soon as he got himself under control, he realized she almost looked…bored. Had he merely imagined her attraction to him? The desire flaring in her eyes? He furrowed his brows, studying her closely. One moment ago she was living fire and the next one cold like a stone. Unreadable.

I wish I had Amada’s ability to read people. To know what they’re really thinking or feeling.

The fact he was used to treating women merely as accessories didn’t help. The girls who hung out with his gang didn’t have value or opinions of their own. They were an adornment to boast – like the newest iPhone or a flashy golden watch. Their biggest achievement was to capture the toughest guy. They were weak. Needy.

He’d gladly taken what they offered. Fast and easy sex. No complications. No emotions. But he’d never dealt with a woman who was strong and self-reliant. Someone like Gwen.

And while he admired her guts, this made everything all the harder, because dealing with her positioned him way out of his comfort zone. But every time he tried to pull away, she drew him back to her with the force of gravity. His attraction to her was like nothing he’d ever felt before. How could he ignore something so strong it occupied every last one of his cells?

“Fernando. Are you listening to me?” She tapped a pen on the table to emphasize her words, and he was catapulted back into the sparsely furnished room.

“Sorry, can you say that again?” He leaned back and crossed his arms.

A strand of blonde hair had fallen into her face, and she tucked it behind her ear. “You can’t give up at the first sight of an obstacle. You have to try harder.”

“I’m no quitter.” He shot daggers at her, but she didn’t even bother to show a reaction and continued her lecture.

“You have no one to blame but yourself for being in this position. Your previous choices are now making it difficult for you to rise above your current situation. It’s your responsibility, and you’re the only one who can fix your life for the better.”

“How dare you!” Fernando didn’t want to trust his ears. While he knew everything she was saying was true, nobody had ever possessed the audacity to call him on his shit. Not even his former probation officers. “You’re supposed to help me, not roast my ass.”

His temper rose, and he pushed up from the chair. It fell back with a loud bang, but he could care less and started pacing the small room from one side to the other. Back and forth. Back and forth. His hands clenched at his sides, he wanted to crush something. Anything.

On his second pass, he glanced at her and stopped cold in his tracks.
She’s not afraid. In fact, she looks very pleased with herself. I’m reacting exactly the way she wanted me to.
That realization hit him like a brick and anger flared again.
That woman is playing games. I bet that’s some psychology trick. But it will get her nowhere. I’m the boss here, not some…probation officer.

Fernando scoffed and grinned sourly at the ridiculousness of his thoughts. She was the boss here, whether he liked it or not. He better play by her rules. His anger would accomplish nothing except a quick trip to jail. He cursed under his breath then returned to the table, picked up the chair, sat down again, and stared at her.
Now what?

Gwen didn’t flinch and held his gaze for several moments before she visibly relaxed and quietly asked, “Are you ready to listen to the rest?”

He nodded and gestured with his hand for her to continue.

“You are in control of your destiny. You have the power to change your life.”

Fernando listened to her rah-rah speech, having heard versions of it all before. He didn’t really believe it anymore today than he had those other times. “It sounds nice enough, but my reality is a different cup of tea. My friends believe I’m crazy to try and change. It’s futile. I won’t make it. I’m better off doing what I’ve always done.”

“You need to find different friends.” Her voice was almost pleading.

He looked down and put his hands beneath his thighs to stop himself from reaching for her. “You can talk easy from the safety of your perfect little life, but in my world, it doesn’t work like that. You have no idea.”

“Fernando, change is never easy. If it were, people wouldn’t get caught in the trap of addiction or bad habits.” Her eyes locked with his, and he discerned an iron will behind her soft appearance. “This may be the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do in your life. And the one piece of advice I can give you is to find your reason to change. A reason powerful enough to carry you through the hard times. Without a strong reason, of course you’ll fail at the first sign of adversity. Find that one thing that keeps you pushing forward, regardless of how wide or tall the obstacles seems.”

He watched her lips move faster as she talked herself into a rage and listened to her words.
A reason to change? You could be my reason to change.

But before embarrassing himself by saying out loud what was in his mind, he did what he normally did when things got a little uncomfortable. He changed the subject. It was time to stop the painful soul-searching and turn the tables on her.

“You want to go out with me?”

Gwen stopped her motivational lecture and pursed her lips. He’d deliberately crossed the line, just to make her feel uncomfortable and witness her reaction. With baited breath, he waited for her to explode.

But she didn’t. Explode or even raise her voice. She looked at him with unreadable eyes. “No. I don’t want to go out with you. Besides being highly illegal, I make it a habit to never go out with one of my probationers.”

Fernando was stunned at her calm reply. He had never been able to contain his temper and stay calm. And yet, this woman had done just that. While part of him was disappointed at her refusal to go out with him, the other part admired her for the way she’d so coolly handled his affront.

As their meeting wound down, he manufactured reason after reason to extend the time and stay in the room with her. To enjoy her presence and the powerful effect she had on him. His body. His soul.

“Perhaps you can come with me to my next job interview? To see what I’m doing wrong and help me fix it.”

For a short moment he thought she might agree, but then she shook her head, “That’s not how this works, Fernando.”

“You offered to help me last week,” he reminded her, using her own words against her. “Isn’t that the kind of work probation officers do? Help their clients find a job and become an honest, hard-working benefit to society?”

Gwen gave him a measured glance, but then she slowly nodded. “You’re right. And I would be happy to assist. Call me when you schedule your next interview and I’ll make every effort to be there.”

Fernando smiled at her and was still smiling when he left the meeting room a few moments later.