The Spanish Love Deception

I had the feeling that he had purposely said that with sarcasm. Just enough to bait me into snapping back. But for some reason, I didn’t. His words felt sincere. But I just … couldn’t know if he meant it. It was really hard for me to get past our history. All the jabs, nudges, and shoves. All the small ways we had made sure the other one didn’t forget how much we disliked each other.

“Whatever you say, Blackford.” I didn’t sound like I believed myself, but it’d have to do. “I don’t have time for this.” Whatever this was, I wasn’t sure anymore. I brought my hand to the side of my neck and massaged that spot absently. “Just … make yourself at home. I’ll see what I can find for this fundraiser we are attending.”

I walked to where he was standing, his large frame blocking the opening that gave way to my living area. Coming to a halt a step before him, I looked up and arched an eyebrow, asking him without words to please move. Aaron’s head towered over my short height, staring down at me, his eyes flying all over my face. Down my throat and around my neck. Right where my fingers had massaged my skin a moment ago.

His eyes returned to mine with something I didn’t recognize in his blue gaze.

We stood close, my bare toes almost touching the point of his polished shoes. And I felt my breathing increase its pace at the realization. My chest moved up and down more quickly with every second I was under Aaron’s scrutiny.

Refusing to look away, I held his stare.

Leaning my head back, I couldn’t help but notice that he felt larger than ever. As if his frame had expanded a couple of sizes more. Seeming much taller and bigger than me, all clad in that tux that had the power to turn him into someone I was finding hard not to look at. Not to drink up every detail that sparked with this newness he seemed to be carrying around today.

Aaron’s tongue peeked out and traveled along his bottom lip, driving my gaze to his mouth. His full lips shone under the light of my kitchen.

My skin started turning too warm beneath the fabric of my stupid robe. Standing this close, I was feeling too hot, seeing too much of him, noticing way too many things at once.

I willed my gaze up, back to his blue eyes. They were still studying me, that something still locked in. Hidden behind them. A heartbeat passed, and I could have sworn that his body inched in my direction, just the splinter of a hair. But maybe it was just my imagination.

It didn’t really matter.

“I was serious.” His voice was low and hushed, the quality of it almost raspy, hearing it this closely.

Every rational thought was long-lost, but I knew what he was talking about. Of course I did.

He exhaled softly, and I smelled the mint on his breath. “I wouldn’t retaliate in any way. I know how important your sister’s wedding is.”

The truth behind his words hit me harder than the lack of distance between our bodies. My lips parted, and my stomach dropped to my feet.

“I won’t go back on my word. I never do.”

Was Aaron Blackford really reassuring me? Guaranteeing me that no matter what was or had been between us, this was safe ground? That he would keep his word, fair and square? That he wouldn’t go back on it? Was he doing all that? It certainly sounded like it. Which told me that either he read minds—which I honestly hoped he didn’t—or that perhaps Rosie hadn’t been wrong about him.

Maybe Aaron wasn’t all that bad.

Maybe I had been wrong about him. I … I didn’t know what to say to him. What to do with any of this, frankly. And the longer I spent in silence, with him radiating this openness right on me, the more he made me warmer and dizzier, and the harder it was for me to complete thoughts.

“Do you understand me, Catalina?” he pressed, that warmth coating my whole body.

No, I wanted to say. I don’t understand a single thing that’s going on here.

My throat moved, my vocal cords somehow failing at voicing an answer. A strange sound left my lips, making me clear my throat right after. “I should go,” I finally managed out. “If you don’t mind, I should change. We will be late otherwise.”

With a motion surprisingly smooth for someone his size, Aaron moved out of my way. He placed his body to one side, still too large and wide for my cramped apartment. Still taking up too much space and still making me feel itchy and tingly. Especially when I walked past him and my robe-clad shoulder brushed his chest.

His very hard chest.

All the heat I felt in my body rushed back to my face.

Stop. I moved on weak legs, my skin feeling clammy. I just need to get out of this robe, I assured myself, tugging at the neck. That is the only reason why I am flushed and warm.

Walking to the other end of my studio apartment as I fought the urge to fan myself, I made myself think about something else.

Dresses. Not Aaron. Not him in a tux. Or his minty breath. Or his chest. Or any other body part. Not what he said either.

But my head started turning, wanting to look back. At him.

No.