Come What May

“What?” my brother asks. “What is it?”

“Dios mio carajo creo que la amo.”

Simon and Arrón both suck in harsh breaths.

“Well, Jefecita called that one.” My brother smirks as he leans back in his chair, without a single care in the world.

“Translation please?” Drake asks, his eyes wide in confusion.

When I don’t reply, Arrón does for me. “Dipshit just realized he’s in love.”

Denial sets in and I shake my head. “No. That’s crazy, right? We’ve been on one date.” Even as I say the words, I know my truth. I love Seraphine Reynolds.

“I don’t know, man.” Cash shrugs. “I pretty much fell for Myla Rose on the spot.”

Drake laughs. “My Azalea addiction pretty much started before puberty.”

I turn to Simon and he nods. “When you know… you know.”Chapter Twenty-TwoSeraphineMateo and I texted on and off all weekend. We played our own little version of Twenty Questions. It involved some semi-scandalous pics—and, well, my phone definitely has a new home screen.

One I found myself shamelessly staring at many times over the last two days.

But now, it’s Monday morning and I’ll be seeing him in person for the first time since our date.

Nerves flutter all throughout me, battering my insides like birds trying to fly while caged. Is he going to be the same Mateo he was before our date, or will he be the affectionate and touchy man from our date? Or worse yet, will he become the picture of professionalism and treat me like his employee?

I guess I’m fine with any of the above; it’s more so the not-knowing that has me fretting.

Which is why I’m wearing my best armor—makeup. The look is subtle, almost natural-looking, but it is highlighted and contoured to perfection. My brows are sculpted, my liner winged, my lashes full, and my lips glossy.

It also happens to be the exact way I wore my makeup on our date. So, even if nothing comes of my little power play, Mateo’s reaction will be worth how early I woke up to look like this.

I waltz into the shop at a quarter to eight, a tray of coffees in hand. “Morning!” I holler in the empty garage. “I brought caffeinated beverages!”

“Regular coffee or that fancy shit?” Rodger asks, coming from somewhere past the first bay.

I grin. “Regular for you.”

“Good.”

I hear the door to the back office open and close. Looking up, I see Danton heading my way with Mateo hot on his heels.

Danton whistles when he sees me, but Mateo doesn’t look impressed. My gut clenches as I worry this was a mistake.

“My office,” Mateo growls before pivoting around and stomping back the way he came.

“I got you a mocha,” I whisper to Danton, passing him the tray, leaving both mine and Mateo’s drinks behind.

I walk toward the office like I’m heading to my execution—slowly and with great trepidation.

As I approach the door, Mateo swings it open, grabs my wrist, and yanks me inside. I’m ready for him to yell, expecting it even. So, when he leans down and kisses me like his life depends on it, I’m caught off guard.

He slides his tongue past my lips and tangles it with my own in a passionate but unexpected kiss.

When the need to breathe becomes too great, we both break away panting.

“What was that?” I ask, my chest heaving.

“You look… I could not resist you.” He dips back down and captures my lips once again.

He kisses his way from my lips to my jaw and down my neck. I rise on to my tiptoes, angling my face just so to give him better access—something he readily takes as he sucks and licks and nips at the sensitive skin at the crook of my neck.

A moan slips past my lips as I thread my fingers into his hair, tugging to bring his mouth back to mine.

He palms my ass and squeezes gently before pulling away, placing one last soft kiss on my lips.

“So, you’re not mad?”

“Mad? No. Turned on beyond belief? Hell yes.”

“I brought coffee…” I offer lamely.

Mateo’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. “A kiss from you wakes me up better than coffee ever could.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“You deserve more than empty words, Seraphine, and I plan to only ever speak truth to you. So, when I tell you something, know that I mean it.”

“How do you always know the right thing to say?”

He taps his temple. “Age... wisdom… remember?”

I roll my eyes and laugh under my breath. “The other day, I suggested ground rules. Maybe we should revisit?”

“My instinct is to tell you no, so why don’t you tell me why?”

I was hoping he’d agree with me right off the bat. “Um, I don’t know. I just think… maybe some guidelines for when we’re at work?”

“Guidelines like what? Like no kissing you or touching you?”

“Yeah, things like that.”