I’m.Completely. Stuffed.
Luc wasn’t lying when he said his mom could cook. So can his aunt. And his cousins. Rosa’s beef tamales. Felicité’s chili-lime butternut squash. Esme’s cornbread. And, holy moly, his mom’s turkey in mole sauce.
I thought nothing could be better than Aunt Lucinda’s pumpkin pie empanadas, but then Luc and his brother Alex made me try them with a scoop of butter pecan ice cream.
The food has been great, but the hospitality has made this so easy. I love Luc’s family’s home. And it’s obvious that this is the home of a builder. The kitchen is to die for, and even though the dining room beyond it isn’t huge, the vaulted ceiling and arched windows give it an airy feel—despite the presence of two full tables.
Across the room at the kids’ table, Harry looks like he’s had a religious experience. He lists back in his chair, eyes glazed, looking full for the first time in months. Mattie is doe-eyed too, but that’s because she’s hanging on Luc’s little brother’s every word.
Emmett, on the other hand, is laughing. Luc’s cousin Natalia is teaching all the kids how to balance spoons on the ends of their noses. So far, she can get two of them going, but someone starts giggling as soon as a third one joins, and then spoons clang to the floor.
Everyone is smiling.
At least they are now. When we all sat down to dinner, Luc’s shoulders rippled with tension, and the look in his eyes was as dark as a thunderhead.
It didn’t last long. His father sat at the head of the table, welcomed me and the kids, thanked his wife, sister-in-law, and nieces for the feast, and then closed his eyes for grace.
In that moment, Luc’s hand clasped mine in my lap and squeezed it while his father thanked the Almighty for our blessings. Luc’s fierce grip made my heart flutter like a baby bird, all downy and off balance. Learning to fly.
I’d squeezed back.
He’d held onto it until it was time to eat, and then he tried to serve my plate as well as his, but his cousins gave him hell for it, making me laugh. He lost his dark look after that.
I lean toward him. “Thank you for this.”
His eyes meet mine, those curling lashes stealing my breath for a moment. “You’re so welcome, Millie.”
If things were different—if they could be different—it would be the most natural thing in the world to lean closer and steal his kiss.
Flushed, I tear my gaze away and see that the kids are pushing back from their table, shedding their post-feast stupor like only kids can. Alex makes a furtive glance toward his parents and then beckons the twins to follow.
“Alejandro, where do you think you’re going?” Nezzie asks, giving him the stink eye.
At his name Luc’s brother freezes, wide eyed. He reaches down and picks up his plate and silverware. “I was just going to start clearing up,” he says innocently.
Nezzie smiles. “That’s what I thought,mijo.”
At this, Luc gets to his feet, as do Natalia and Felcité’s husbands, Paco and Juan Carlos. Or Juan Carlos and Paco. I can’t remember now who is married to whom. I rise too, and it’s like I’ve overturned the table.
Lucinda flaps a hand at me. “Sit back down,querida.When the women cook, the men clean. Family rules.”
“Oh.” I drop back in my chair. “That’s nice.”
“C’mon, Harry and Emmett,” Luc says. “We’ll show you how it’s done.”
Harry bristles. “Mattie didn’t cook. Why can’t she help?”
“Because,” Alex says, stacking Mattie’s plate and silverware onto his and winking down at her, “this time she gets a free pass.”
Oh Jesus.
Mattie turns pink, but her eyes follow Alex as though he just lifted her plate using Harry Potter’sWingardium Leviosacharm. Still, if he wants to be The Boy Who Lived, he’d better not touch my sister.
“You finished?” Luc asks, reaching down for my dishes.
I sit back, startled. “Oh, yes. Thank you.” And, okay, yeah, maybe I watch him walk away like he’s magical too. Have the men in Luc’s family stumbled onto some kind of aphrodisiac secret? Does clearing the dishes make a man suddenly more attractive?
And an already attractive man suddenly irresistible?
