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The marinated ribs were ready to rock and roll. All that was needed was for Katrenda to pop them on the grill. Whenever Jasmeka ran a catering event that included grilling, her sister handled that part. She didn’t know why, but when it came to cooking, she loved the stove. The grill, not so much.
She tugged a serving cart toward her and began arranging a few of the side dishes onto it. Utensils, napkins, and some more serving spoons crowded the second row, along with a few other items for the third level. When she stooped down, a deep voice interrupted her concentration.
“I need to talk to you.”
She peered over her shoulder. “I’m working, Miguel.”
He reached down and removed a pair of ice tongs from of her hand. She frowned at him, but he took her other hand and tugged her to her feet. “You’re pushy and bossy and—”
“And sorry,” he grumbled, looking satisfyingly uncomfortable.
She wasn’t going to let him off so easily. “For?”
The man radiated annoyance, but she didn’t care. She waited for him to continue. He drove thick fingers through his hair, and Jasmeka noticed how silky it was. Today, he wore a white T-shirt that named his favorite team and blue jeans. When he raised his hand to his hair, she got a good look at his bicep as it flexed. It stood out solid as a rock beneath bronze tight skin. Her sis was right. He was ridiculously gorgeous.
“I shouldn’t have gotten mad,” he said. “What you do is your business, even if it was with my brother. You were under no obligation to tell me about it.”
She blinked at him.
“I assume…” He hesitated and then forged ahead. “I assume Thiago is paying you well. If not, let me know. I’ll make sure you and…the bab—”
“Hold it.” She held up her hand, unable to let the nonsense go on. “First, I appreciate your graciousness for overlooking my loose morals.”
He winced. “That’s not what I was saying.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“You don’t have to sound so sarcastic.”
She couldn’t help it. Her laugh burst out, but she pressed a hand to her mouth and glanced toward the kitchen door. Miguel had arrived so early, so he was the only guest at Laredo’s so far. The host stood outside by the grill talking Katrenda’s ears off. They didn’t have long before her sister would say something to Laredo that might get Jasmeka fired, so she had to hurry.
“I’m not pregnant. Neither have I ever been.”
Miguel’s eyes widened.
“For that matter, there’s no way I could have gotten pregnant by David because we were never together like that.”
Miguel didn’t seem to doubt her claim of not being pregnant, but she’d have to be terrible at reading people to think he believed her when it came to seeing his brother. His disbelief ticked her off, but she held it together.
“I admit I loved him.” The embarrassment threatened to choke her and make her run from the room. “I had a crush, a bad one. David seemed to like me, but he flat out refused to acknowledge me like that.”
When she thought back about how she’d confessed her feelings to him and how he had gently shot her down, she wanted to scrub the memory from her head with a wire brush. The worst part about it was that David continued to treat her kindly. He didn’t share her secret with anybody as far as she knew and didn’t bring it up again. Even when she kept trying to get his attention, he stayed the same while keeping her at arm’s length. That was one of the reasons why she felt like he was an amazing person. Nobody could tell her different. She decided not to share any of these details with Miguel.
“The last time I talked to my brother that’s not the kind of man he was.”
“Did it ever occur to you he might have changed? Maybe he even changed because of you.”
He stared. “There’s no way I’m going to accept that.”
She shrugged and started around him. He touched her arm, and she stopped. He was so close, her body responded. For a minute, she considered if he made her feel this way because she was thinking of David. When she looked up into Miguel’s eyes, all she was aware of was him, not his brother.
He leaned down, and his mouth brushed the spot next to her mouth. A thrill and a longing ran through her.
“You’re still mad at me,” he whispered.
“I’m working.”
“So you’re not mad?”
