The Bachelor and the Beauty Queen

“You okay?” he asked caringly, stroking her cheeks.

“I’m fine. I—I need to—” She struggled for the words.

“Go inside?” Stephen let his arms linger over her shoulders, locking his fingers at the nape of her neck. “I’ve got quite the drive home.”

“You know you don’t have to go the long way...”

“Go inside,” Stephen ordered gently.

Hesitating, Lexi sighed. She needed to clear the air between them and took a chance with a partial truth. “Look, I need you to understand something about my history with Ernest.”

The smile he offered disappeared into his black beard. “I don’t care about you and him.”

“But I need you to know why I don’t date parents.”

Stephen pulled her close to his frame. His beard brushed against her chin when he dipped close to capture her lips. “I don’t give a damn about Ernest. I don’t expect you to have a blank history. Got it?” To prove his point, Stephen cupped her face and planted another mind-blowing kiss.

Chapter 11

“Didn’t you attend a prestigious boarding school?” asked Stephen, rising to his feet when Lexi approached the picnic table. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants and tried to still the beating of his heart as she neared. Lexi shook her head and flashed a smile. Behind her, children frolicked on the giant sheet of slippery plastic near the lake. Some of the older kids, his nieces included, zoomed down the makeshift slide directly into the blue lake. If she’d stayed down there a little longer, Stephen figured the kids would conspire to get her in the water, as they had to a few of their teachers who came out to attend the Southwood Summer Kickoff Picnic the Saturday after Memorial Day weekend. Wisely, most of the adults kept their distance. Stephen had made friends after being introduced by Nate, but when Nate went off to flirt with one of the single mothers, Stephen found himself longing for Lexi’s return. Her long, black-and-white maxi dress flowed behind her, silhouetting her curvy frame and long legs.

She’d chosen comfortable shoes—a pair of black plastic flip-flops. Stephen always cringed at the sight of them. In San Juan, his abuela was quick at slipping her chancleta off her foot and throwing it across the room in a heartbeat whenever the boys acted up. Subconsciously he smoothed the back of his head.

Lexi flopped down on the wooden bench, resting her elbows on the red-and-white-checkered tablecloth secured by a plastic-covered ceramic bowl full of some casserole. The potluck picnic lunch brought out every casserole in the world. Not wanting to be left out, Stephen and Nate had hunkered down in Ken’s modest kitchen and put together their mother’s pastelón dish. They had to promise a Fourth of July visit with the grandchildren in order to get Elizabeth Torres Reyes to share her family’s sweet lasagna recipe

.

“I did,” Lexi said, finally getting back to the question as she waved a mosquito from her face before reaching for the green bug spray from her oversize bag filled with all sorts of needed gadgets, including the boots she’d wear for a line dance on stage with the rest of Southwood’s participants. She got the spray out first. “Come over here.” She rose and took Stephen by his forefinger.

Stephen glanced down at her ringless fingers wrapped around his. A woman as beautiful as Lexi needed jewelry. “Hey.” He flinched and coughed when she started spraying him from head to toe. “What are you doing?”

“Your head, in this weather—” she made a tsking sound “—not a good match. Now what is this nonsense about me and my boarding school?”

“You’re a natural in the outdoors.”

“I believe we’ve had this conversation before, Mr. Reyes.” Lexi stood stock-still in front of him, both hands clasped now. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blinked, and Stephen inhaled the sweet, chocolatey scent he’d grown accustomed to. “What did I tell you I am?”

“Something about grits?” he teased, enjoying the arousing way her dress blew in the wind.

“Correct. I am a Girl Raised in the South. I clean up real good, but I love country music, my tea sweet, chicken fried and I will trade my stilettos for flip-flops any day.”

“Flip-flops.” His mouth curved upward.

“They’re a Southern girl’s glass slipper.” She winked.

“Well, Cinderella, how about diamonds? I thought those were a girl’s best friend?” Mentally, he created the perfect diamond in his head, something only royalty would wear. She was, after all, a queen.

A frown marred her beautiful features. The sun kissed her skin, browning her shoulders and reddening her cheeks. “I’m not one who needs diamonds to make me happy.”

“Bad experience?”

“Yes, I’ll tell you someday. Right now, tell me why you’re standing over here all by yourself. Are you being antisocial?”

Stephen contained his frown and glanced around. The only person he wanted to be around stood right in front of him, and she had yet to share her deepest secrets and fears with him. His ex-girlfriend Natalia had opened up to him right away. Years later, now he realized she fed him enough about herself in hopes to gain favor when her aunt dropped the bombshell about using his ties to the Torres family to elevate her publicity.

“Have you made any friends yet?”

“I’m not antisocial. I made a few friends. Everyone wants to know what I’m going to do with the bakery. They’re so friendly. A lot of them have said ‘bless your heart’ to me.”