by Emma Hart
“She got to pick this one,” I replied.
“Ah. So you’re watching a movie in yoga pants.”
“Nailed it,” Aspen called from the other end of the bar.
“I’m not wearing yoga pants.” I twisted my bottle. “Not in a million years.”
Blaire smiled slyly. “I bet you won’t be wearing any pants by the end of it.”
Tom choked on a laugh, and I just about did the same, ‘cause hey. I wouldn’t complain if that was how it ended.
“Pants will be staying firmly on,” Aspen added, rejoining us. “No putting out until the third date.”
“Doesn’t count.” Blaire shook her head. “The third date rule only applies if you didn’t put out already. And since you did that…”
“Told you,” I muttered.
“Carry on.” Aspen met my eyes, her face expressionless. “And the only thing putting out is gonna be your right hand.”
“Yeah, I’ll be putting it across your backside.”
Blaire grinned. “This is fun. I didn’t think I’d like you two dating, but I take it back. You’re kind of frisky.”
“What’s wrong with us dating?” Aspen said. “You’re the one who shoved me into it!”
“Nice to know you did it of your own accord.” I snorted.
“Shh.” She held up a finger and focused on Blaire. “What the hell?”
Blaire held up her hands. “You’re both my best friends. Whose side do I take in a fight? Is it automatic? Does my opinion matter?”
“Mine!” Aspen stared at her, open-mouthed. “You always take my side.”
“What did I do?” I asked. “What if it’s your fault?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna win anyway.”
“See?” Blaire interjected, waving her hands. “You’re my best friend, but Luke has Abuelita and her tacos.”
It was nice to know my friends were only here for my grandmother’s cooking.
“I have her tacos,” Aspen replied. “I practically have her home restaurant in my kitchen.”
“That is a good point,” Blaire mused. “But if y’all break up, you don’t have Abuelita’s anything.”
I sighed. “Sadly, Abuelita will probably assume it’s all my fault, beat me with her flip-flop, and move Aspen in so she can heal her broken heart with tacos and salsa.”
“I’d be okay with that, for the record,” Aspen added. “Actually, Blaire, you take Luke’s side. I’ll have Abuelita on mine.”
“Yeah, that’s what you want,” Tom said, barely able to contain his laughter. “A five-foot-tall, crazy Mexican woman with way too many flip-flops and a bit of a temper. That’s how you win arguments.”
Actually, it was. At least in my family.
Aspen looked at me. “Clearly, he’s not familiar with la chancla.”
“The world would be a better place if nobody was. Including Abuelita.” I snorted.
Blaire nodded, wincing. “That thing hurts. Remember that night we camped in your backyard and snuck out to a party? She waited in the tent for us to come back and beat us all.”
“That was the first and only time I ever snuck out.” I shook my head.
“Same,” Aspen added. “I was so afraid that she’d just know, even though I grew up on the opposite side of town. I had nightmares for a month after that night.”
“I still have them!” Blaire shuddered. “I don’t think I’ve worn flip-flops since.”
“Speak for yourself,” Aspen said. “Sandals or nothing for me.” She checked the time on her phone under the bar. “Oh, I’m done.” She looked at me with a smile. “Let me go get Dec, and we can go, okay?”
“Sure.” I nodded while she disappeared to the back.
Blaire nudged me. “You’re really doing it. I’m a little surprised.”
“We all are,” Justin drawled from a few feet away, sipping on his beer.
“You want another slap?” Blaire snapped.
Man. He really was like the chalk to their cheese.
“Yes, we’re doing it,” I said to her, ignoring Justin. “Or we’re trying to. It might all go down in flames yet.”
“Well, as long as Aspen doesn’t have the match, you’ll be just fine. With her hidden temper, she’d burn the whole town down.”
Tom frowned. “Aspen has a hidden temper?”
Blaire and I nodded.
“It takes a lot to get her there, but when she does…” I blew out a breath.
Blaire, however, smirked. “It’s why she’ll fit in perfectly in Luke’s family. They’ve all got tempers.”
I wanted to deny it.
Couldn’t.
My family was a shit show.
“Ready?” Aspen came bouncing out of the staff door, her phone in one hand and her purse in the other.
“Ready.” I finished my beer and stood up. “Although I should warn you, I forgot to bring my sweatpants.”
She sighed and met my eyes with a knowing glint in hers. “Of course you did.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – ASPEN
Trick or Treat… Or Both?
“I knew you didn’t forget them deliberately,” I muttered into Luke’s shoulder. My heart was still racing because, yes, I put out.
And I didn’t even wait until the end of the date.
In my defense, it wasn’t my fault that my yoga pants turned him on. It was all his fault, really, for forgetting his sweats. I didn’t have any of his stuff here, so it wasn’t even as if I could pull a pair out of one of my drawers.
And, no, if you were wondering, the sex last time was not a fluke.
“I swear, it was an accident,” he murmured, trailing his fingertip in little circles on my shoulder. “A happy one.”
“Full of shit.” I moved and pushed up so I could prop my head on my hand and look down at him. “It was a deliberate move, and you know it.”
“Can you blame me? It’s not like sweatpants could hide my erection anyway. I’d turn them into a tent.”
“I get it. You have a big, magic cock. You don’t need to keep trying to convince me you’re good in bed anymore.” I patted his chest and sat up, swinging my legs to the side.
I’d moved too fast. The blood rushed to my head, and I set my hand out to steady myself while I blinked the pressure away.
“Yeah, you’re right, I don’t.” He laughed and got up, leaving the room with his cock in his hand.
Damn it. He was going to beat me to the bathroom.
I pushed up and ran after him. I knew I couldn’t beat him, but it was all right for him. Gravity worked in his favor after sex.
It did not work in mine.
Grabbing a wad of tissue, I stuck it between my legs.
“That’s hot,” Luke said, turning on my shower.
“Why can’t I shower first?”
“You wanna share?”
“Are you normally like this on second dates?”
“No, but we’ve already established we’re not a normal couple. So, you wanna share?”
“No, I want to go first. Gravity is not my friend right now!”
He looked at the tissue between my legs and smirked. “That’s the sign of good sex.”
“It’s the sign I’m about to rip the showerhead off the wall and beat you with it.”
Luke laughed, stepping aside for me.
“Thank you.” I jumped under the water and screamed.
It was ice-cold, and it was beating down on me like torrential rain.
I stepped immediately out of the shower and almost slipped, the small rug on the floor being the only thing saving me from an almost certain trip to the emergency room.
Luke was laughing. Hard.
“This relationship isn’t starting well, Luke.”
“Oh, it’s a relationship now, is it?”
“It’s about to be your death,” I shot back. “I hate you.”
“Nah, you don’t.”
“Try me.”
“It’s impossible to hate anyone who can make you
orgasm as hard as I just did.”
I sighed and turned the dial so hot water came through instead. Making sure to test the water before I got in, I stuck my hand under the stream and waiting for it to get just right.
It only took me a couple of minutes to rinse off my body. I left the water running for Luke while I dried off and wrapped my robe around me. All I needed was some panties, and I’d be set.
To finish the movie we interrupted.
I didn’t even know what we’d been watching.
Leaving him in the shower singing ‘Sex Bomb’ to himself, I went back to my room for my panties. I’d just pulled them up over my knees when there was a knock at my door.
I tugged my underwear up properly and walked toward the door. “Who is it?”
“Is me!”
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no, no.
“Uh, just a sec!” I darted back to the bathroom, panic racing through me. “It’s Abuelita! She’s at the door!”
Luke jerked around so fast he almost slipped himself. “What? What the fuck is she doing here?”
I shook my head quickly. I didn’t know. I couldn’t just ask her through the door, could I?
He quickly got out of the shower, soap still on the side of his neck, and wrapped a towel around his waist. “Go answer it!”
“Like this?” I hissed. “She’ll know what we’ve been doing!”
“Asp, she’s been yelling genital and cuss words at Steve Harvey for three days.”
“What?”
“Long story. Just answer the door before she starts yelling genitals at us!”
This was it. This was where my life ended. This was the beginning of the end.
I was going to die of embarrassment.
At least I was wearing panties.
I took a deep breath while Luke chickened out and ran into the bedroom. Oh, God.
I unlocked the front door and smiled. “Abuelita. What a nice surprise.”
She lifted up a brown paper bag, and the smell of food hit me in the face, making my stomach rumble. “I bring food for date!”
“Oh. We were going to order some—”
“Nonsense. I cook. I bring. You eat.” She pushed her way past me and took herself into my kitchen.
Excellent.
This couldn’t get worse.
Luke walked out of my room wearing his jeans and not his t-shirt. “Abuelita! What are you doing here?”
“I bring food,” she said, looking over at him.
She froze.
Her eyes ran up and down his half-naked body, then she turned her head so she could look at me.
In my llama robe.
With my messy hair.
A slow, knowing smile spread across her face. “Ah, you need food.”
Oh, hell.
My cheeks burned.
“You busy, sí?” She waggled her eyebrows.
I stared at Luke.
“Abuelita, we appreciate the food, but we are having a date.” He gently took her by the shoulders and spun her around.
“Sí. You make me baby, yes?”
I inhaled sharply, my eyes going wide, and I spun around with my hands out. “No, no, no baby.”
“Oh. You should make me baby.” She broke out of Luke’s hold in the doorway and turned to him, touching his cheek. She reeled off a couple of sentences in Spanish, ones that made Luke’s jaw twitch before she came to me.
She clasped my face and kissed me on each cheek before she left.
Luke waited until she was out of earshot, then slammed the door shut.
“What did—what did she just say?”
“She told me she spoke to the guy who runs her church. He has the third Sunday in September free if we’d like a fall wedding.”
I blinked. “What? Is she crazy?”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “We’ve known that for a long time.”
“Did she book it?”
“It’s on hold.”
“Have you considered taking her to a psychiatrist?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Mom got la chancla last time it was brought up.”
I shuddered and went to the bag of food. “Isn’t she a Catholic?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you have to be Catholic to get married in a Catholic church?”
He shrugged and pulled out the containers. They were full of steaming, hot food, including homemade chips and dips. “I don’t know. I haven’t been since I was twelve.”
“Well, I’m not a Catholic, so there goes that plan.”
“She’ll try to convert you.”
“We’re eloping to Vegas. And not on the third Saturday in September.” I met his eyes over the island, and we both burst out laughing.
It was so ridiculous. Yes, the woman was insane, and yes, we knew that, but this was next-level craziness.
Yet, it felt strangely perfect. It didn’t freak me out, because I knew Abuelita, and I knew she was simply passionate about her family. All she wanted was for them to be happy, even if she showed it in weird little ways.
Like showing up after sex with food and holding a wedding date in a church… After two dates.
Not that the dates counted the same for us.
We didn’t have to date the way most people did. We didn’t need to get to know each other, because we’d already done that.
All we needed to learn to do was let go of our self-imposed boundaries and just let the cards fall where they may.
But there would be no September wedding.
At least not this year.
Besides, I always imagined getting married in the Spring. Which, in Texas, is around the new year.
I laughed, dropping my head down.
“What?”
“It’s crazy,” I said, meeting his eyes. “Don’t you think? Literally, any other girl would have run out of that door by now if they’d just had that conversation with your grandmother, yet here I am, opening a Tupperware tub with homemade nachos in, thinking it’s entirely normal.”
His laugh was deep—a proper belly laugh that sent tingles across my skin.
Luke walked around the kitchen island and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, drawing me into his body. Both of us were shaking with now-quiet laughter, and I wound my arms around his waist.
“It is, sadly, normal,” he chuckled into my hair. “Which is why we make total sense together, Asp. You get it.”
“I’ve been around long enough.” One last laugh escaped my lips, and I leaned back to look up into his eyes. “You really think we make sense?”
His smile was lopsided, but there was a warmth in his eyes that made my heart skip. “Yeah. I think we make perfect sense.”
“You think we can actually do this?”
“I know we can.” He leaned his head down and brushed his nose against mine. “As long as you can put up with Abuelita.”
“Well, I’ve done it for twenty years already. At least she won’t be setting me up with your cousins anymore.”
He laughed, tilting his head so his lips brushed over mine. “There is always that. Now, she’ll just be marrying you off to me instead.”
“I can cope with that,” I whispered against his lips.
“Good.” He kissed me once, twice, three times. “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
“I think you’d be pretty easy to fall in love with, Aspen Camden.”
I blushed, smiling. “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.”
“Our food is getting cold.”
He slapped my ass as I darted away, laughing. I snatched a chip from one of the tubs, grinning as I bit down into it.
“Here I thought you were going to say something nice to me back,” Luke grumbled, opening the tub with burritos in.
“I could fall in love with you,” I said, tilting my head to the side. “Maybe on the third Sunday in September.”
He laughed, peering at me through thick eyelashes, and threw a Tupperware lid
at me. “I want that in writing.”
I crunched on another chip, still grinning.
Yeah.
We were going to be just fine.
EPILOGUE – ASPEN
Tequila Forever
EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER
“Tequila is the perfect name for a dog!”
“Yes, but we’re not talking about getting a dog. We’re talking about getting a cat.” Luke flattened his palms on the island. “And Tequila is a dreadful name. I’ve already told you that about five hundred times.”
I pressed my hand to my chest and gasped. “How could you say that? You’d still be single and eating my food if it weren’t for tequila!”
“Yes, and now I live in your apartment, give you regular orgasms, and I still eat your food.”
“Exactly. You have tequila to thank. You can pay homage to it and years of hangovers by calling our dog Tequila.”
“We aren’t getting a dog. And I’m not paying homage to a drunken tap-tap-squirt.” His lips twitched. “We’re getting a cat.”
“I don’t like cats.”
“I don’t like dogs.”
“Lies. You like Blaire.”
He bent forward, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t do this. Why don’t we get a hamster instead?”
I groaned and dropped onto the sofa, looking across the apartment at him. “Because they smell and don’t care if you’ve been gone all day. I want to come home and know I’ve been missed when I’ve been at work.”
“Hey, I miss you when you’re at work.”
“Luke, when I got in last night, you grabbed my ass and asked me if I minded you finishing your video game before we went to bed.”
He threw his arms out to the side. “I grabbed your ass! That’s affectionate. I missed you.”
“No, you grabbed my ass because you wanted to finish your video game, then go and have sex.”
“But that’s what happened.”
“Still not a dog.”
He sighed and walked over to me. “We’re gonna have to flip a coin for it.”
“I’m not flipping a coin on a pet,” I said hotly. “It’s a dog, or it’s nothing. And I want one of those beagles from Gerald at the horse ranch.”
“You and those fucking beagles.” He rolled his eyes. “We’re gonna have to think on it until we can compromise.”
