The Spanish Love Deception

My ass landed on something hard and hot, immediately molding into the space.

Aaron’s lap.

His breath c

aressed the shell of my ear. “You didn’t say good morning.”

My back straightened as I remembered my lame runaway moment. “You almost made me drop my cookie, Mr. Robot.” It was so weird, so strange, calling him that, like I had done so many times in the past. As if that belonged to a whole different life. To two different people.

Aaron chuckled, and it tickled my neck. “I wouldn’t dare. I know better than that.”

His arm tightened around me, and I had to restrain myself from wrapping my hands around it.

“What are you doing?” I whispered loudly.

Charo would come back in at any second.

“I was feeling lonely,” he admitted, lowering his voice and making my mind fly with everything he wasn’t saying.

Stupid. I need to stop being stupid.

“And if I’m going to sit through this one-sided interrogation, the least you can do is keep me company. Plus, you owe me a conversation.”

“I was right there.” My voice came out strangled. “And Charo is not here now.”

He hummed, and that noise traveled straight to my lower belly. “She will be back though. You know I like to be extra prepared.”

I did. I knew him pretty damn well, I realized.

And just like that, with that thought floating around my mind, Charo’s head popped up in my field of vision. Her eyes widened, and then her face broke into a ridiculously large smile.

Jesus.

She clapped her hands. “Oh, look at you two! Ay Dios mío. You are adorable.”

Aaron’s chest grumbled with a laugh, and I felt it in my back.

“See?” he whispered in my ear.

No, I didn’t see shit, frankly. It was hard to focus on anything, being swaddled in Aaron’s lap.

My mouth opened, but all words died when a second head popped up in the kitchen.

Charo turned in the direction of that second head topped with the same bright shade of red. “No ves, Mamá? Te lo dije.”

“Tía Carmen?” I mumbled. “Qué haces aquí?” What was Charo’s mother doing here?

The woman, who was an older and rounder version of my cousin, pointed a finger at me. “Venir a saludarte, tonta.”

She was here to say hi? I doubted it. She’d see me at the wedding tomorrow.

My eyes turned to Charo, who had guilty written all over her face. She busied herself with something on the counter.

Aaron moved underneath me, his legs flexing and his hand holding my waist securely, just as if—

Whoa.

He stood up. “We haven’t met before,” he told my aunt. Then, he stepped forward. Somehow keeping my body in his delicate but skilled hold. “I don’t want you running for the closest exit,” he whispered in my ear.