Page 25 of His Secret Wish

Chapter 6

Isabella sipped her diet soda and pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. It had started to rain this afternoon, and the temperature had dropped a bit. Not that May in Truckee was all that predictable. It had been known to snow around these parts at this time of year.

The rain hadn’t let up, however, and it was currently still pouring gatos y perros outside. Which meant everyone was currently crammed in Yaya’s living room and kitchen. The music was playing and everyone was having a great time.

But for some reason, she couldn’t quite shake the melancholy that had come over her right around the time the rain had started. Right around the time Yolanda and Jorge had come to get the girls and take them into town to do a little shopping.

She knew she was being silly, the girls weren’t hers and she didn’t need to be the one to look after them all the time. It had just felt so nice, so natural, when she was spending time with them this morning. Claudia had been so excited at the chicken coop, wanting to pet all the chickens and asking what their names were. Since Isabella didn’t actually know if they had them, together they’d come up with names for all of them.

Marissa had been less excited at the start, clinging to Isabella’s leg and giving a little shriek any time one of the chicken’s got too close. Isabella had asked if she wanted to pet them—overall, they were pretty tame and used to people and handlers—but she’d refused. She did help with the naming, however. One of the poor birds had ended up with the name Pickles.

Tia Florence and Tio Antonio cleared started shooing folks from the center of the living room. Now that dinner was over, and the dishes were washed, and the kids had been put to bed, it appeared it was time for a show. The coffee table had been pushed against the far wall to accommodate the extra people already. Two of her cousins pushed the sofa back, making space for an impromptu dance floor. Florence and Antonio loved to dance, and used to do it professionally. They were beautiful to watch.

The music cranked up, the salsa rhythm the kind that worked its way into your blood, made your muscles twitch with the need to move along to the beat. Isabella laughed and clapped as her aunt and uncle struck an opening pose. They started to move, one with the music and each other. It was hypnotizing to watch.

An arm wrapped around her, a big hand landing on her waist. Without glancing his way, she knew it was Owen. The way he touched her, held her, was imprinted on her cells. His scent—a mixture of outdoors and rain—wrapped around her, reminding her of forgotten days and long-ago nights. She leaned into him, resting her cheek against his chest.

His heart was thumping against his ribs, the beat a little faster than it should be. Almost made her think he was nervous about something. But what could big, bad Owen Callahan possibly be nervous about?

He swept his fingers along the curve of her waist, the cotton of her sundress doing nothing to stop the heat from his hand soaking into her. A shiver raced through her, and he pulled her tighter against him.

She couldn’t deny she wanted to sink into him, let him warm up all the cold places inside her. The places that had turned icy the moment their relationship had ended. Long before she moved out of their house and into the little one-bedroom cottage in town.

But she wasn’t going to think about that tonight. Not when things between them were going so well. The spark was still clearly there, ready to ignite with just the smallest encouragement.

The physical part had never really been their problem. At least not until the end, when he practically refused to touch her, and it took a bunch of effort to get him to even kiss her. She knew why—he’d been scared. And she understood, to a point. The problem had been their lack of communication.

And, yes, looking back, her communication skills had been lacking, too. He wasn’t all to blame, she could see that now, although at the time, she’d been so hurt and angry with him for pulling away from her, she’d placed all the blame on his shoulders. It had honestly felt like he’d abandoned her, and given his feelings about that when it came to Mason, she’d considered him a big fucking hypocrite.

She owed him an apology.

“Would you like to dance?” He leaned down and whispered the question in her ear. His hot breath against her skin sent goosebumps skittering across her skin. He nuzzled the spot behind her ear, and her eyes fluttered closed. That was one of her special spots, and the jerk knew that.

She really should stop him, and any moment now she would. Except that, not that deep down, she didn’t actually want to. It felt good to be touched again, to feel like she was wanted. Besides, they were supposed to be a couple, and couples touched each other. Kissed each other. Had sex with each other.

The idea of sleeping with him, being with him this one last time, knocked her off her axis. She opened her eyes and glanced over at him. He was watching her, his blue gaze darkened. She didn’t know if it was a trick of the light or what, but the heat in his gaze was almost blinding.

Maybe she should stop overthinking everything and just go with the flow. Let whatever was going to happen, happen. This weekend was a moment out of time, a moment away from her regular life. That’s what they’d agreed on, so why was she making it so complicated? They both knew the rules, and as long as they played within them, everything would be fine.

And if that meant she and Owen ended up sleeping together, then so be it. Besides, maybe having sex with him one last time wouldn’t be a bad thing. The whole get-it-out-of-your-system thing worked wonders, right?

“I would love to dance.”

He took her hand and led her toward the center of the room. While she’d been waxing poetic in her head, other couples had joined Florence and Antonio on the dance floor. The entire living room had been transformed into a dance hall, the seats for those that didn’t want to join in lining the walls. It was what often happened when her family got together like this.

Owen pulled her into his arms, his hold a little loose. Dancing had never been his thing, but he knew she liked it, so had always made an effort. She started to move, her steps and the roll of her hips basic. It took a moment or two—it had been a while since they’d done this together—but he found the rhythm. Within a minute or two, they were swaying and moving with everyone else.

The song changed, but the salsa beat remained. Her cousin, Marisol, asked to cut in, and Isabella reluctantly let Owen go. Dancing with him, being so close to him, had been more than she’d expected. Marisol’s husband, Kevin, asked her to dance since he was now partnerless, and she agreed.

Kevin had better rhythm than Owen, and was actually a pretty good dancer, but she found her concentration slipping. She would never actually admit it, but she couldn’t wait until she was in Owen’s arms again. The urge to look around, to find him, see what he was doing, how it was going, was strong. But she resisted. That would be incredibly rude to poor Kevin.

It took far too long, but the song finally ended. She gave Kevin a quick thank you and a hug, and then searched the room for her husband. He’d been cornered by her cousin Angela, and Angela’s friend, Rebecca. And it looked like a little flirting was going on.

A sheen of green covered everything as Isabella made a beeline for them. Yeah, she and Owen technically weren’t together anymore, but neither Angela nor Rebecca knew that. All they knew was that Owen was married. Which meant, there should be absolutely no flirting going on.

“Mi cariño,” he said, when she got close enough to be heard over the music and the voices. “I was just coming to find you.” There was a thank-God-you-showed-up-I-was-just-about-to-send-for-help aura about him. A bit of her jealousy faded. She’d never doubted his fidelity before, so there was no need to doubt him now.

Except for the fact that, ruse for her family aside, they weren’t actually together anymore.