by Lia London
His feet carried him to the door of the Clinica, and he peeked in, surprised to see her poring over a thick book.
“Buenas tardes, Z. What’re you reading?”
“Just reviewing one of my old textbooks.”
He stepped further in and glanced at the pages. “Why? Didn’t you already pass the test?”
Zaira looked up for the first time and gave him a weary smile. “I passed a lot of tests, but I didn’t ace them.”
Antonio shrugged. “Yeah, but you got your degree.”
“A, I’m not studying for school. I’m studying for my patients. They deserve better than a B+, don’t they?”
A swell of admiration washed over Antonio, and he clasped her shoulders in his hands. “Nurse Vasquez, can I say how glad I am that you were the only one who spoke Spanish and could schedule time to come out here? I know it’s hard on you, but I feel like our people are getting the best care. We’re so lucky to have you.”
She smiled and closed the book. “Gracias, jefe.”
He backed out of the room, still watching her closely. “Is everything okay? You seem a little down.” Was she second-guessing their friendship. Had they already blown it with one little kiss?
Except it wasn’t just a little kiss. It had definitely been so much more. The simple gesture had practically bull-dozed down one of the walls in his heart. The one that blocked the way to possible relationship at a deeper level.
“I’m worried about Gabi. She’s coming down with the sniffles. Moms do that. We worry.”
“So do big brothers.”
“I wish I’d had a big brother like you. I wouldn’t have made my mistake.”
Antonio held his breath, unsure of what to say. He didn’t want to offer to be her big brother. “Some mistakes bring blessings. Gabriela’s a wonderful little girl.”
“Yeah.” She sagged against the examination table. “I guess falling in love and starting a family isn’t a mistake unless you do it at the wrong time with the wrong person. It has to be when everyone’s ready to commit and build something to last.”
Was she thinking about falling in love and forming relationships, too? Why did it seem to sadden her?
Footsteps sounded behind him before he could answer. With a nod, he whispered, “Talk to you later, Z.” He turned a bright smile on the first patient, an old man with a glass eye and a cane. “Adelante, viejo!”
As he walked down the hall, Antonio thought about Zaira’s words. What she’d said about studying and starting a family both showed long-term thinking. She clearly wanted to go the distance in life and get it right along the way. No matter what she thought of herself, she wasn’t muddling through or faking it. She was doing a great job in every aspect of her life that he could see.
He glanced back I in the direction of the Clinica, thinking of the beautiful woman working there. Smart, practical, kind, and yes, very attractive to him. But he knew the growing physical attraction stemmed from a deeper place than ever before. Zaira was strong and wise enough to be a real partner in life. Shaking his head, he returned to his office wondering how he had gone from a no-dating mindset to wanting to form a family… Was it too fast? Was he crazy?
Zaira ushered the last abuelita out of her Clinica ten minutes before the end of the shift and hurried down the hall. She peeked in Antonio’s office just as he was closing down his computer.
“Hello Z.” His ready smile sent a flutter through her chest, but she tamped it down. She needed not to sound giddy, or her request might spook him.
“Hey, A.”
“Okay, it’s funny that you’re calling me A now.” He stood and pulled a coat on over his dress shirt.
“Why? You call me Z.”
“Yes, but that’s because your cousin did, too. I figured it was your nickname.”
“Well yeah, but that’s because no one can pronounce my name.”
“Ah. Are you telling me they can’t figure out Antonio?” His brow gave a teasing jump.
“If you don’t like it, I’ll stop calling you that.”
“No, it’s fine,” he assured her with a laugh. “Are you heading out now?” He reached to shut off the lights, a move that brought them within a foot of each other.
Zaira swallowed her nerves and pressed him gently away from the door. She didn’t want eavesdroppers if this grew awkward. “I only stopped by your office because I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“So, the boda de mi prima …”
“Right. Silvia’s getting married in January. Wouldn’t it be better in December, so they get the tax benefits?.”
Zaira snorted. “It’s Sofia, and she would die if she knew you could never remember her name. And no. She didn’t want her big day to be upstaged by Christmas, so January it is.” She tried to suppress a grin. “Anyway, I’m going to be a bridesmaid and all that.”
Antonio’s face lit up with genuine enthusiasm. “Cool. Is Gabi a flower girl?”
“We seriously thought about it because she’d be so cute, but she doesn’t walk in straight lines. You know how she is. She’d get distracted by someone’s shoes and go wandering off.”
“Well, maybe next year.”
“Right. If there’s another wedding somewhere.” Despite her better judgment, she hazarded a glance at Antonio. A shaft of light from the hall illuminated the contours of his face, and his gaze was fixed on hers. Ridiculous hope bounced down her ribs. It caused her to gasp, and his lip curled up on one side.
“Okay?”
“So anyway, I’m supposed to bring a date, and I know weddings are all emotionally charged and weird and all that, but I don’t know anyone else, and I wondered if…”
“Sure. I can go and keep Gabi out of trouble.”
Although that wasn’t what she meant, his immediate response filled her with relief, and she rushed forward, giving him a quick squeeze of gratitude. “Oh my gosh, you’re the best.”
“Do I get to throw toilet paper at the bride?” he asked with a wink.
Zaira laughed and tried not to remember too vividly how he looked the day of the bridal shower. “No, but … um. Can you make a point of not being gorgeous that day? I mean, so she’ll focus on Miguel?”
Antonio’s smile was wry, almost flirtatious. “And how will I do that?”
Zaira’s mouth went dry. He’d never been coy with her before. She made a show of messing up his hair and looking at him with a frown, but she couldn’t keep a straight face, and her heart pounded at the feel of his silky, thick locks in her fingers. “I don’t know. It might not be possible. Maybe stay out of her direct line of sight.”
“And how are you going to hide your gorgeousness from the novio?”
Zaira’s mouth fell open. “My gorgeousness?”
“Yeah. All that there.” He fanned his hands all around her head and up and down her body like a model on a shopping network presenting a glorious product. “Your thick hair, your smile, the warm color of your skin.” He flushed and cleared his throat. “You know. Your gorgeousness.”
Her traitorous knees gave out on her, forcing her to lean hard against the wall. “You think I’m gorgeous?”
Antonio shifted to lean with her. “Don’t you?”
Zaira blushed and blustered. “I look like a mom. I’ve got stretchmarks and a tummy pooch, and bags under my eyes.”
“I haven’t seen the stretchmarks, but here…” He smoothed the skin of her cheeks with his thumbs, sending tingles down her spine. “No, no bags. Only beautiful, intelligent eyes, and…” He froze, still cradling her face, dipping an inch closer. “Z, I don’t think you know what it does to me when you look at me like that.”
She couldn’t blink away or summon her full voice. “Like what?”
His gaze bore into her. “Like I’m more than meat.”
“Antonio Seneca, you’re more than meat.” A rush of heat filled her. “You’re spaghetti sauce on the walls, and Christmas lights on the tree, and abuelita Patricia’s boyfriend, and a m
ovie star, and so many other things …” Unable to think of what to say, she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a kiss. The tender minty-ness of it gave way to a surging burst of passion when he responded with ardent enthusiasm, and in surprise, she opened her eyes and gasped. “Did Antonio Seneca just kiss me like that?”
He gave a soft laugh and nestled his cheek against hers. “Sorry, did I do it wrong?”
“Am I going to get fired from La Casa for kissing you?”
His brow puckered adorably. “What? No. Why would—”
“Good!” She threw her arms around his neck and resumed the kiss, pulling him tighter as if she could never be close enough to him. She wanted to breathe him in with every pore. He deepened the kiss, and she couldn’t contain a whimper of delight. Her fingers wound their way into his hair as his hands raced up and down her back, chasing the electric shivers through her body.
At last he broke away, breathing hard into the hair behind her ear, sending more thrilling tingles through her. “Whoa, I’m getting dizzy,” he whispered.
“Yeah, that was a pretty fantastic kiss,” she agreed.
“That, or oxygen deprivation.”
Zaira stiffened. Had he not felt the magic? How was that possible when she was sure they’d been transported to some fantastic place where lovers danced on clouds.
She caught the glimmer of mischief in his eyes and thumped his chest with her palms. “Brat.”
He enveloped her in his arms a little closer. “I figure you’re a nurse, so if I pass out, you’ll know what to do.”
“I might just want to make you pass out, so you’ll stop teasing me.”
He held her chin in this thumb and forefinger, tipping their lips within a whisper of each other. “I’d be willing to let you try.”
She clung to him, unblinking, aware of her pulse pounding in her ears and the feel of his arms around her. “Does this mean we’ve moved past lonely?”
“Don’t … don’t analyze this right now, Z. Let me savor my first kiss.”
“First kiss? That can’t be true. You’ve kissed loads of women on television.”
His finger caressed her cheekbone and his eyes lingered on her lips. “The first unscripted kiss. The first grown-up kiss where I found a woman irresistibly attractive and wanted to express that.”
“So, not a hormonal teen kiss.”
His lips brushed her cheek. “Don’t analyze.”
Was she melting into the wall? The heat between them had surely kicked up twenty degrees or more. “And not a hot kiss for a show.”
“Zaira,” he whispered, his voice husky and urgent. “Let it be what it is. Beautiful.”
Her breath hitched, and her limbs felt weak and wonderful. Antonio Seneca, desired by women all across America, wanted her. Thought she was beautiful.
She closed her eyes and scolded herself. It wasn’t the prime-time star who held her quivering, tingling body. It was plain old Antonio from Lincoln City. The guy next door. The man whose kind friendship warmed the place in her heart she’d abandoned on an iceberg last year.
The velvet softness of his lips traced the side of her neck toward her ear. “Come on, Z. It’s time to go home. The ESL crowd will be showing up, and we don’t need to give them new vocabulary to ask about.”
Zaira chuckled. “You mean how to say, Who’s that red-hot Latin lover in the blue coat?”
Shaking his head with a smile, Antonio tucked her under his arm. “Why did you come visit me again? My mind’s a little hazy for some reason.”
She pulled away, her hand finding his. “The wedding, remember?”
“Yes.” He squeezed her fingers. “The wedding.”
“You sure you want to come with me?”
“I do.”
The look in his eyes slapped wings onto her feet, and she raced back to the Clinica to grab her gear. “Z,” she muttered aloud to herself. “You have either just seen the turning point in your miserable life, or you’ve completely screwed it up forever, because nothing is ever going to outshine this brilliant feeling.”
In the parking lot, Antonio sent Zaira a text, even though her car sat parked next to his. Did you already make dinner?
He watched as she responded to the notification alert and fumbled in her purse. She pulled out the phone and then jerked her face to peer at him through the windows. With a suppressed smile, she read his text and typed back.
I have something ready in the freezer.
He bit his lip and typed as fast as his thumbs could. Save it for another night.
Why?
He grinned at her and texted back. I’ll bring dinner. We need to put the snowballs up on the tree tonight, remember?
Zaira’s face bloomed into a bright smile, and happiness surged through him. C U soooon! He started the engine and tossed his phone in the cupholder. Waving good-bye to the bewildered, laughing beauty, he hurried ahead to his favorite Chinese restaurant and ordered up enough food to feed the decorating army.
When he arrived half an hour later, Zaira’s door swung open before he could knock. Emilio took one look at the familiar red and white bags. “You’re the best!”
“Are you the butler now?”
“I heard the car coming,” said Emilio, tugging Antonio inside. “Come see what we did to the tree!”
Antonio paused, searching for Zaira, not the Christmas tree. When he glanced into the corner of the kitchen, he saw her grinning right as she launched one of the plastic snowballs at his head. He blocked it with the bag of take-out cartons, then feigned a frown. “This is the thanks I get for bringing home the dinner?”
Home. The word rang in his ears and followed an unused corridor down to his heart. Was this home now? What would that be like? Looking around at the happiness of Zaira and the boys, he decided he really liked the idea.
Zaira relieved him of the bag with a twinkle in her eye. “What a lovely surprise! Thanks, Antonio.” She carried it into the kitchen, and he followed on her heels, longing to be as close to her as possible.
As she unpacked the cartons onto the counter, he slid up behind her and placed his lips gently on the back of her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair.
She shivered beneath his touch and turned to face him, their bodies pressed close. Surely the gleam in her eye meant she still surged with the electricity of their earlier kisses.
“A, not now,” she giggled softly. “Not with the boys here.”
“I just wanted one little mouthful of dessert,” he said, his brow ticking up playfully.
Zaira twisted her lips in a wry grin before obliging with a sweet kiss. He broke away with a sigh, his eyes still closed as he savored everything about her presence.
“Am I dreaming?” he whispered.
She brushed her forehead against his. “Dreams don’t taste like heaven.”
The skittering sound of plastic on linoleum broke the spell, and he looked down to see Gabriela chasing one of the glittery plastic snowballs into the kitchen.
“Come on, Antonio!” called Carlos. “Dish up the goods. I’m hungry!”
Conversation over pork fried rice and orange chicken revolved around the winding up of school assignments and events before Christmas break the next week., and it soon became apparent Carlos needed to be working on a long essay for his literature class.
“But I haven’t finished reading the book,” protested Carlos.
Antonio shook his head. “Then I guess you’d better go do that now. Then I’ll help you get your paper outlined.”
“Outlined?” Zaira leaned her elbows on the table and regarded Antonio. “You learned to outline papers?”
“My English teacher senior year was a total outline freak.” He shrugged. “It saves time.”
“I’m impressed.” She wadded up her napkin and pointed a finger at Carlos. “You are so lucky to have a dad who helps you with homework.”
“He’s not my dad. He’s my brother.”
“You know what I mean.”
Carlos shook his head. “He’s always nagging me about school.”
“Are you doing well?” she challenged.
“Yeah, I guess. Most of the time.”
“Then be grateful. I wish I’d had a dad around, or a big brother to help me with homework.”
Antonio puffed out his chest and nodded to her. “Thank you very much, Z. It’s nice to feel appreciated.” To Carlos, he said, “Go on. Head back to the house. I’ll be there soon.”
“Why?” whined Carlos.
“Because the tree has as many snowballs as it can carry, and it’s time I put Gabriela to bed,” said Zaira with a sweet firmness that charmed Antonio. She definitely had her mommy tone down, and she’d never even parented teens yet.
“Can I help with Gabi’s bath?” asked Emilio.
“You can run the water. Not too hot. Test it on your elbow the way I showed you.”
“Okay.” Emilio bolted down the hall, and soon the sound of rushing water drew Gabriela after him to investigate.
“How come he gets to stay?” Carlos seemed determined to complain.
Antonio stood up and placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Just go. We’ll be right there.”
“What do you have to stay for?” challenged Carlos.
Antonio hesitated. He didn’t have a reason to linger except that Zaira’s eyes begged him to remain. “I’m going to help clean up the stuff,” he said.
“What stuff?” Carlos whined. “It’s all disposable.”
Antonio’s voice pitched a little higher. “The silverware. The cups. Go, man. Just go do your homework. Emi and I will be right there.”
Carlos frowned back and forth between Antonio and Zaira. “Okay, but don’t you two do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Antonio blushed, and Zaira spluttered, but at last Carlos shut the door behind him.
“Wow, he’s in a mood, huh?” asked Zaira, standing to gather the empty cartons.
“Yeah. He’s going through puberty, y’know,” said Antonio. “He’s all hormones and mood swings.”
Zaira chuckled. “Try being a pregnant woman. It’s ten times worse.”
