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She looked down.
“Do you want to talk about them?” he offered.
She hesitated, before asking, “Are you hungry?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you allergic to nuts?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“Take a seat.” She sniffled and reached into the cupboard, pulling two plates down. He followed her movements as she plated the food. She was focused, and the silence was easy between them for the first time. Some sort of Spanish music was still playing in the background as his stomach grumbled.
She set the food in front of him with a fork and knife before placing hers next to him on the corner of the island. Mia poured him a drink from the tequila bottle and then raised her glass. He did the same.
“Salud,” she said.
“Salud,” he repeated.
The first bite was a bit hot. The flavors exploded on his palate. The savory, nutty dish had just the right amount of spice with tartness from the crunchy pomegranates. “This is the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” he said.
“That’s because you’ve never tasted me.”
His mind went blank as he coughed and reached for his drink. The alcohol burned his throat as he gulped it down.
“Are you okay?” she asked, patting him on the back. Heat spread from her touch, the blood rushing to his groin. Surely he was hearing things.
“Dios, did I say that out loud? I think I’ve had more tequila than I realized.” Her cheeks blushed red as she took another drink.
“You want to tell me about your mom?” he asked, switching the subject as he adjusted himself in his seat. He should have changed into sweatpants before he came over, instead of the restricting jeans. Now all he could think about was tearing off her clothes and tasting the nectar between her thighs.
“Mamá was the strongest woman I’ve ever known.” Mia began as she picked up the picture frame from the counter he hadn’t noticed before.
A woman gazed back with Mia’s eyes, Mia’s smile.
“She’s beautiful,” he said.
“She was. She worked so hard to make a life for me here,” Mia explained, her brow creasing as if it was an unpleasant memory.
“She immigrated from Mexico?”
Mia nodded.
Okay, so getting her to talk was like pulling teeth.
“Do you mind if I ask how she died?”
Mia’s eyes grew dark and vacant as if she was no longer present with him.
“You don’t have to—”
“A fire,” she said quietly.
“I’m sorry.”
Mia nodded. The vast pools of her eyes glazed as if her mind was a far way off.
He shifted the conversation. “I took some Spanish in high school. I don’t remember much, but I can pick up a few words and phrases.”
