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Caroline wilted down to my chest, burying her face against my throat. “That was mortifying.”
“I thought you handled it admirably. And I’m still in possession of all my limbs, so I’m calling it a win.”
“Rios is protective, but not stupid. He’s not going to interfere with us unless he thinks I’m not on board.” She folded her arms and looked into my eyes. “He has a point, though.”
“About?”
“Privacy.”
“Might I point out that I live right next door?”
“And your bedroom shares a wall with my sister.”
I manfully attempted to ignore how my dick jumped at the implication that we’d be doing anything in that bedroom that her sister didn’t need to hear. But I didn’t miss how Caroline’s eyes darkened.
“You’re absolutely right,” I rasped, gripping her hips. “I’ll see what I can do.”
16
Caroline
“I will never not love breakfast empanadas.” I bit into the tender, flaky pastry, closing my eyes as the savory, smoky flavor of chorizo and potatoes exploded on my tongue.
Across the table, Hoyt took an enormous bite of his second one and moaned appreciatively. That moan did things to me south of the border, and I restlessly crossed my legs.
“Do you know how to make them?”
“In theory, yes. But mine definitely don’t beat Marisol’s. She’s a goddess of pastry. I’m more a buy the dough in the freezer section and assemble kind of girl.”
“Valid. But maybe we could aspire to learn, because these are amazing.”
I loved how he said “we” and didn’t just assume that I’d figure it out because I was a woman. He was a man who liked to cook, and it had become our habit to share meals together on the days we could manage it with our schedules. Frequently, that meal was breakfast, and I adored getting to start my day with him. Even if I had been spending more and more time imagining starting that day with him in bed. His or mine. I wasn’t fussy. But our schedules—and my siblings—hadn’t made that possible.
Until today.
Hoyt and I had a rare full day off to spend together. As it was a weekday, Rios would be tied up with work, and Gabi was off with friends, thus leaving the house blessedly empty. Going out for a late breakfast hadn’t been my plan, but when Hoyt had suggested we stop by Panadería de la Isla, I wasn’t about to say no. Everything Marisol baked was amazing.
The sun was already high in the cloudless blue sky, and a lovely breeze carried the scent of the ocean past our patio table in front of the bakery. Tourists moved along the sidewalks, popping into shops or carrying coolers and umbrellas for a day at the beach. Sitting here with Hoyt, with no work on my schedule, it was almost possible to imagine what it was like to be one of them. Free to indulge in vacation pleasures. I’d never actually had a vacation. Leisure and I weren’t exactly on a first-name basis. I’d always been too busy picking up the slack to take care of my family. I wondered what it would be like to have that kind of unencumbered time. Could I actually relax enough to take advantage of true time off?
“Caroline!”
I glanced up from my coffee to see Connie Galloway, the owner of Beachcomber Bargains, standing just outside the perimeter of planters that marked the edge of the patio, her goldendoodle on a leash.
“Mrs. Galloway. Hello.”
“You’re just the woman I was looking for.”
I couldn’t imagine why. “Oh?”
“I just got in a shipment of three old trunks and immediately thought of you. They’d be amazing upcycled into storage for your new place.”
I blinked at the older woman, my brain already sparking with ideas. “That’s great to know. I’d love to take a look at them. Thank you so much for telling me.” The effort was thoughtful and unexpected. Then again, a fair chunk of all my recent paychecks and my savings had gone to her store since I’d moved out, so maybe not so unexpected.
“I’ll just set them aside until you have a chance to come by. Enjoy your day with your beau.” With a wink, Connie strode away, leaving me more than a little flummoxed at the easy interaction.
This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Over the past few weeks, since I’d started dating Hoyt, I’d have sworn things had gotten better around town. There’d been no further action from my dad. He’d apparently decided that pretending none of us existed was preferable to acknowledging that we were adults who could make our own decisions. That was absolutely fine with us. Troy had been on his best behavior since the fire, only popping into the tavern once and leaving a massive tip. Chet and Marcus hadn’t shown their faces, and no one else had said a word directly to me against me or either of my siblings. All had been quiet. Enough that my brother and the rest of his friends had somewhat backed off from the protective detail they didn’t think I knew they were pulling. The only dark spots were the sporadic, small nuisance fires still popping up around the island. At this point, Chief Thompson was convinced it was troubled teens, and Hoyt hadn’t wanted to talk about it when I’d asked.
Marisol came out with our check and an enormous wicker basket.
