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She glanced up at him when she was done eating, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “What?”
The melancholy that had been in her eyes since the meeting earlier had retreated somewhat. It was no longer prominent, but if he searched deeper he’d find it lurking. He wanted to know everything about her, everything about her son, but it was too soon. She wasn’t ready for him the way Toro was ready for her. She wasn’t prepared for the heavy shit that sat on the tip of his tongue.
So he kept it simple. Went for easy. “I just like watching you eat.”
“Look at God.” Her eyes flashed. “I also like watchingyoueat.” The words were blatant as hell, leaving no doubts that they had nothing to do with food whatsoever.
He bit back a smile. He didn’t want to think she was as free with anyone else the way she was with him—the way she let him in, the way she sparred with him verbally. He hoped he was the only man to ever see this side of her, but she’d been married for a long time. What had that marriage been like? Had she been as uninhibited with her now-dead husband as she was with Toro?
“How old are you?” he asked her.
She stared at him. “You’re really determined to ensure I don’t like you, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “I want to know everything about you.”
“You already know everything you need to.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
She licked the corners of her mouth. “Don’t start getting greedy. Didn’t I already warn you about that?”
Oh, but he was. He was greedy for her and the more he got, the more he wanted. It was the most vicious of cycles, the way she depleted yet filled him at the same damn time. Toro gave her a patient smile. “I like how unapologetic you are. I like your fire. I like your anger, even when it’s directed at me. I like your hunger.” It matched his. “I like your strength—”
“And my sex.”
Well, that went without saying. “And your sex.” He nodded his agreement. “But those are the reasons why I wanted to know your age. I haven’t been with a lot of people my age who possess all of the same attributes.”
“You probably need to switch your game up then.”
“Sera.”
“Julián, I’m fifty-six,” she shot back without missing a beat. “How old is your mother? Does she have the same attributes?”
Her use of his name knocked his equilibrium sideways. Maybe he shouldn’t have handed that power over to her. It took a moment for him to gather himself and he narrowed his eyes, wondering where she was headed with her line of questioning. “She’s my mom. I don’t see her through the same lens that I view you.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm? What does that mean?”
“What would your reaction be if you walked into her kitchen and saw her in a position similar to the one we’re in now, with a younger man?”
“I would shoot him.” What else?
She sipped her coffee, then lifted her head, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “I guess you’re not that enlightened, huh?”
He got to his feet. “What the hell does that mean?”
She put the coffee cup down with a sigh. “Toro, you know exactly what I mean. I’m not gonna sugarcoat shit nor am I gonna spoon-feed it to you.”
He knew what she meant, he just didn’t like it. “My mother isn’t like you—”
“Oh?”
Fuck, wrong thing to say. “I meant that she’s not—”
“A human being with feelings and valid desires?” She lifted an eyebrow. “Good to know.” She shoved the empty plate away, then nodded to the doorway of her office, at the mess he’d made after shattering her door. “You can leave. I’ve got some business to take care of and I don’t need company for that. When I’m done, you can get to fixing my door.”
Toro stared down at her. “You’re kicking me out?”
