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“Calla hijo, deja le enseño como cocinar como a ti te gusta,” she snapped. “Ju don mine, right, honey?” I shook my head no as Dean sighed heavily and we spent the afternoon into the evening making homemade Tapas with sautéed shrimp.
“Dis so good. Ju like it?” She smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but to giggle at her overly animated way of speaking. She was so passionate when she spoke about anything and everything. I was fascinated.
She
let Dean and I have a glass of wine as she danced around her kitchen, laughing and poking at her son. It was unmistakable the way she loved him, and I found myself falling a little harder for him as he entertained his mother with a dance.
“Ojos estrellados,” she murmured to Dean. “And you?” She paused, seeming to ask her son a question.
“Si, Mama,” he said back, his olive skin turning a shade darker. I cursed myself for taking French at that moment. I had no clue what was going on.
“Ella es muy joven, eso no va ha durar,” she said, giving me a sweet look.
I was completely clueless as Dean turned to me with a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Si, Mama.”
“Ojos estrellados,” I muttered under my breath. Dean’s eyes shot to mine as I said it. “What does it mean?”
“You never looked it up?” he said, watching me carefully as he clicked his signal.
“Would you believe I just remembered it?” I said, pressing him with my stare. “What does it mean?”
“Ask my mother.” His lips curled, revealing a small smile as he exited the highway.
“I will,” I said, softly tapping my fingers on the window.
“Dallas, I’m sorry,” he said, grabbing my attention with the weight of his voice. “I’ve acted like an ass. I had no right to do the things I’ve done.”
I turned in my seat to look at him, but he gave me nothing more.
“What the hell is going on with you, Dean? Why are you no longer engaged and sticking your tongue down my throat?” He pulled to a stop in his mother’s drive and I noticed it was the same dark blue two-story home I remembered from years ago, but was not as well kept. Dean exhaled roughly, seemingly lost in his thoughts, before turning to question me.
“Are you happy?”
“Whoa, that’s a little deep for seven in the morning.” He pulled my hand from my lap, gently grazing his finger over the top of the sensitive skin. Instantly aware of our connection, I cleared my throat and pulled my hand away.
“Answer the question,” he prompted, his paralyzing blue eyes on me. I tried to hide the heat in my face. I was undeniably attracted to him, but right now was not the time to let it come creeping in.
“Happy?” I hesitated. “I guess so.”
“I have this theory you aren’t. It’s not that hard to see. Besides, if you were, it wouldn’t have taken you so long to answer.”
“Well, you don’t—”
“I don’t know you anymore, right?” he interrupted in a mocking tone as he got out of the car.
“You’re an ass, you know that? You apologize and then insult me by telling me I’m not living the life I should be,” I huffed out, picking my purse off the floor and slamming his passenger side door.
“You said it, not me.” He opened the gate and held it open for me. My comeback was cut short when I got a good look at the house as we approached it. The landscape was suffering horribly and the house looked like it was hanging by a thread. I knew this because in the earlier years Dean’s mother had taken great care of her yard and home, much like my mother.
“I’ve been meaning to get a crew out here. I just haven’t had the time,” he said as I looked around us. “I come out here every chance I get, but it’s never enough.”
“It’s such a shame. It was so beautiful.” Dean plucked the right key off his chain and put it in the door.
“Yes, it was,” he murmured sweetly, his eyes on me. His face was so close to mine. All I had to do was lean in to taste his lips. The memory of his kiss from the break room damn near brought me to my knees.
“Dean,” I begged.
“I’ll leave it alone, Dallas,” he said reluctantly, pushing the door open.
