The Spanish Love Deception

“Cálmate, prima,” Isabel interrupted, telling her to calm down. “Qué importa. Son solo unas camisetas.”

Our cousin gasped and then hissed something really nasty at my sister, who barked right back at her.

Aaron leaned to his side and then lowered his voice. “What is going on? Should we run?”

I stifled a snicker. I didn’t want to anger Gabi any more. She was either about to cry or turn full-on She-Hulk, and no matter what, we’d have to deal with the fallout.

“There’s been a mix-up with the T-shirts for the soccer match.” I sighed. “Apparently, they sent the ones for the Team Groom in the smallest size instead of the largest.”

“Can’t we play with what we are wearing?” the poor soul that was my fake boyfriend asked.

Gabi’s head spun toward us. “Qué ha dicho?” she screeched.

“Nada.” I held my hands in the air. Then, I turned to Aaron. “Keep your voice down. Didn’t you see how she got when my cousin Matías asked why she hadn’t thought of handing out the shirts earlier today? Or when Adrián said it would have been smart to double check the sizes before today?”

Aaron’s lips pursed.

“Exactly. Good thing my sister intercepted her before she got to them. They are tough guys but it would have been a carnage either way.” I shook my head. “You are tough too, but I need you in one piece, okay?” I stopped myself, realizing what I had said. “We are expected to dance at the wedding.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Aaron said from my side. “I can survive your cousin. I could put us both into safety too. Just say the word.”

I averted my eyes and glanced in Gabi’s direction. A red-faced Isabel was trying to jerk the box out of Gabi’s grip. And my cousin was tugging at it quite … violently, if I had to pick a word.

My sister yelped, and then she stepped back and brought both hands to her head. “No, no, no, no.” She walked to the center of the circle, waving her hands in the air. “We will play the soccer match. That’s it,” she announced and then turned to Gabi. “I am the bride, and you guys are obligated to do as I say.”

I snorted at that, which earned me an extremely threatening glance from my sister. I stiffened.

Jesus, this wedding would be the end of all of us.

My sister turned to our cousin. “Gabi, no es el fin del mundo.” It’s not the end of the world, she told our cousin. “You”—she turned to me again—“for my next wedding, we are sipping margaritas.”

I bit back a laugh, but yep, I wholeheartedly agreed.

“All right. It’s summer, the sun is shining, and I just had the best idea.” She paused dramatically, looking around the circle of people. “Team Groom will play … shirtless!” Her arms rose in the air.

Nobody spoke.

“Come on, gentlemen.” Isabel’s tone hardened. “It’s always the ladies undressing and showing some skin. This time is up to you to show off those wedding bodies.”

More silence.

Isabel glanced at her groom, who, just like everybody else, was still chewing on her suggestion.

She widened her eyes and swirled her finger in the air, instructing Gonzalo to snap out of it. “Do something!”

My future brother-in-law perked up. “Ah!” The groom shed his shirt, revealing his chest in all his dark-haired glory. He threw his arms up. “Well said, cariño!” he roared. “Come on, gentlemen. Shirts off.”

My sister rewarded his fiancé with a holler and some enthusiastic clapping.

Daniel, as the best man, took off his shirt next. Almost reluctantly, from the way he shook his head. My gaze involuntarily took him in. It wasn’t a shock, seeing how, despite not being anywhere close to being buff—which he had never been—he was still in really good shape. And yet … I felt nothing. No stirring anywhere in my body.

The group’s amusement grew as more of Team Groom’s members followed Gonzalo’s and Daniel’s lead. Well, nobody present was really complaining, probably fearing my sister’s reaction, who, at this point, was cheering at every newfound shirtless male. Even Gabi’s frustration at losing her grip of the group’s control decreased as the atmosphere turned lighter.

That was, until Daniel opened his mouth and brought down the fun atmosphere.

“What about you, American boy?” Daniel pointed at the still fully clothed man standing beside me. “Are you sitting this one out?”

American boy.