The Spanish Love Deception

My lips parted, but as I was ready to speak, someone pushed me, and the words were ripped off my tongue. I was shoved further into Aaron’s body, this time front to front. And I immediately felt against me all the hard planes and lean muscles I had witnessed shining under the sun that morning.

Something beneath my skin quickened, a

lmost like a zap.

My body urged me to obliterate the last inch of space between us. It was crazy how much I wanted to do that. I felt the urgency in my blood. As if my heart were pumping pure madness across my body. Making me reckless. So much so that my arms lifted of their own accord, my hands linking behind Aaron’s neck. I watched his eyes widen for just a heartbeat, and then something simmered and flared in his gaze. That blue blaze wiped clean the surprise, replacing it with something that looked a lot like hunger.

Everybody else around us was dancing to a beat that my hazy mind seemed to remember from something. It was Latin; it was decadent and fun and what summer nights in Spain were usually made of. Without really knowing how, my hips started moving. Aaron’s hands shifted to my waist. And we were dancing. The memory of doing that with him not so long ago blindsided me for an instant. How ironic it was that we’d found ourselves in the same situation so soon after and that we seemed like completely different people.

It didn’t make sense.

But I didn’t care. Not tonight.

My fingers played with the short strands of hair in Aaron’s nape as our hips swayed to the Latin beat. So soft—his hair was so very soft. Just how I had imagined. I pulled a little on the strands, not knowing why. In answer, Aaron’s fingers tightened on my waist, causing my blood to swirl and heat, gathering in all kinds of interesting places.

Without being able to stop myself, I went up on my tiptoes again, not needing an excuse to examine his face closer. He wasn’t frowning or smiling, but there was something about his features that made him look different. Unbound. Yes, that was it. There wasn’t a trace at all of that restraint I was so used to seeing in him. And to me, that made him look as handsome as he had ever looked.

Maybe I should tell him.

My lips parted with the words, and I watched his gaze dip to them. The look in his eyes released a flock of butterflies low in my belly.

“Aaron,” I said, but I was distracted by the way he was looking at me. I didn’t think I was dancing anymore. What was I going to say?

“Do you trust me, Catalina?” he asked me.

Yes. The answer flashed across my mind, but I didn’t voice it. There was something that had intercepted the three-letter word. Something I was vaguely aware I needed to remember.

Aaron’s fingers spread, and his thumbs trailed across the fabric of my blouse. One of them slipped beneath the hem. The simple contact sent a wave of pure awareness across my skin.

“You don’t, not yet,” he said against my ear, and then his lips hovered above my cheek, causing my breath to hitch. “But you will trust me; I’ll make sure of it.”

I … I didn’t think I understood that. Not then and probably not anytime soon. But what did that matter when his mouth was so close to mine? When his lips were dancing across my jaw, barely making contact, which only drove me crazy. If I moved, if I just tilted my head and—

A squeal and a hand landing on my arm burst whatever thought had formed in my head.

And the next thing I knew, I was being dragged away from Aaron. Another loud screech hinted at who was behind me, pulling at my arm.

“Lina, nuestra canción!” my sister yelled over the music, stopping us both at a narrow opening, where there was some space.

Our song?

My ears took the song blasting through the speakers as my brain worked out the situation slowly.

It was impossible not to recognize the beat. How could I not when that infamous video of my sister and me dancing to this very same song had been played over and over at family gatherings and Christmas for the last twenty years? Both the music and the choreography were ingrained in my brain forever. “Yo Quiero Bailar” by Sonia y Selena was playing, and that only meant one thing.

“Time to pay up!” Gonzalo cheered.

That was followed by everyone else making as much space as they could around Isabel and me as the rest of Team Bride assembled behind us to deliver the payout for losing the Wedding Cup.

My body came alive with the familiar beat.

“You’ll pay for this, bridezilla,” I yelled over the music as we looked at each other, readying our positions to start the infamous choreography.

“Me?!” she yelled back as we moved our butts in sync. “You’ll thank me later.”

We swirled with our arms up and then shimmied our way down.

“What do you mean?” I demanded as we bumped our hips, following through with the stupid dance.