Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
The guy at my side—Marco, I think he said his name is—cocks his head. “You talk to her about this?”
I level him with a look. “Nope.”
He chuckles. “She’s gonna kill you.”
I nod but shrug as if I’m unconcerned with that possibility. “Maybe, maybe not.”
He frowns, staring at me as if he’s seeing me for the first time. I think he’s reassessing me, and maybe this whole scheme. He claps his hands. “Your funeral, man. You do the illegal breaking and entering part, and my guys will take care of the rest.”
He stands back, giving his guys a signal to stand down, and I step up to the door. Dani thinks she has to do everything on her own, but I’m going to remind her that I’m here, right beside her, willing to do whatever she needs whether she wants me to or not. One steadying breath, and I shoulder my way through the door, coming to stand in Daniela Becerra’s kitchen without her permission.
I smile, thinking I might be a dead man.
CHAPTER 29
DANI
“No, Mama. I’m not going out with the ‘boy from the grocery store’ or anyone else,” I tell her, rolling my eyes at her continued pressure.
“Mija, I’m not trying to be bothersome, but I worry about you. You shouldn’t be alone.”
I scrub the plate in my hand a little harder, even though it’s already clean. “I’m not alone. I have you and Papa, and I’m so busy with work, I don’t have time for anyone else.”
That’s not true, exactly, but I don’t want to tell her about Kyle yet. Especially not while I’m mad and not sure how this week is going to go.
I spent all day yesterday going through my lists of recipes, choosing the things I can prepare strictly inside. It’s pared down, but I can make it work. I’m going to make my slow cooker chicken thighs again, a pastel azteca casserole, pork carnitas, ground beef burritos, and I actually looked up Kyle’s Marry Me Chicken Pasta recipe too. I don’t think any of my customers will be falling to one knee over it, thankfully, but this week is going to be rough as I figure out what the hell I’m going to do about my grill and smoker.
“You are such a hard worker, Daniela,” Mama praises, her eyes warm with affection as she smiles at me. “Is everything going good with the business? Xavier says you have a crew next door.”
Of course he told Mama and Papa about that. That doesn’t surprise me. What does is that it’s taken Mama this long to mention it.
“Business is great, and yeah, there’s a pool crew next door.” I keep my voice flat and matter of fact, hoping she’ll leave it alone.
Mama peers at me, her deep eyes searching mine. “I’m not stupid, you know, mija. I was once a young woman too, so I see the signs.”
I freeze. “Signs? What signs? There are no signs.”
She tsks, clucking her tongue in disappointment. “Xavier says you have a crew next door and that one of them is buying lunches from you but coming over to pay in person, after hours.” She cocks her head, giving me a sharp look. “And Nick told Yvonne, who told me, that your date was fine until he brought you home and there was a man on your porch.” The look grows sharper when I snort because that date was not ‘fine’ long before Kyle came into the picture. “I’ve been waiting patiently for you to tell me about this man of yours, but you stay quiet. That, I do not like.”
She takes the plate from my hands, drying it with the rag in her own. Her face is blank, which is almost worse than if she were glaring at me.
“His name’s Kyle,” I admit quietly.
She gestures at the stack of plates, silently telling me to keep talking as I continue washing. I pick up another dish and it magically loosens my tongue. “He’s putting in a pool at the neighbor’s house, and the first day, I cussed him out bad. The second day, too. And several times since then.”
“Daniela,” Mama chastises. “A lady doesn’t speak that way.”
“I’m not a lady, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
She purses her lips, frustrated with me. “And yet he keeps coming back? Must be your barbacoa,” she teases.
I grin, knowing that my food has nothing to do with Kyle’s attraction to me. “Maybe,” I concede.
“Is he a nice boy?”
I laugh at that, the question unexpectedly funny. “No, not really. Not in the way you mean. He jumped the fence and took one of my customers to the ground faster than I could blink when the customer got handsy.”
“Ay dios mio,” Mama whispers, her hand clasped over her open mouth.
But I’m smiling at the memory now. “I gave him so much trouble about it, but deep down, I kinda appreciated it. And he’s gone out of his way to not cause problems for my work, and he cooked me dinner to prove that he didn’t need me to take care of him, and he took me to meet his family and his best friend who runs a dog rescue, where he volunteers.”