Page 46 of A Dish Best Served Hot

“I have a friend at school,” she retorted smugly.

“Who?”

“Trevor.”

Saint’s immediate thought wasWho the hell is Trevor?Then he remembered that these were kids. He needed to get his shit together. He checked himself. His daughter was allowed to make any kind of friends as long as they treated her nicely and didn’t try to get her to do bad things.

“Well, that’s good. I’m glad you have a friend at school.”

She perked up. “Papi, now you’ll have a friend at my school too.”

He hoped that was true. He really did want to stay true to his word and be Lola’s friend, inappropriate hand holding aside. “So you’re okay with going to hang out with Miss León now?”

Rosie nodded.

“Are you going to talk to her?”

“We’ll see.”

Saint knew that was all he could ask for, so he didn’t push. He walked them both into the lobby where Lola was waiting by the door.

She was scrolling through something on her phone and frowning in concentration.

“Everything okay?” Saint asked as he and Rosie walked up to her.

Lola looked up and the sunlight streaming through a narrow skylight in the ceiling caressed her face. It made the freckles on the bridge of her nose and her cheeks stand out even more and her eyes lighten to the shade of a copper penny.

Saint was hard-pressed not to continue walking until he’d backed her up against the door and kissed every one of those freckles before nibbling on her plush bottom lip. He’d meant it when he said he wanted to be friends, but he couldn’t stop dreaming about her, thinking nonstop about whether she’d taste as sweet and spicy as she smelled. It was becoming a real problem. His right hand and wrist were beginning to cramp from overuse.

“Everything’s fine,” she told him, pulling his thoughts out of the gutter just enough for him to remember where he was and who was standing at his side. “I’m just looking at a commercial realty website for the center.”

“Oh? I thought that we were waiting until Yara had her budget meeting with Mrs. Fonseca.” Saint still wasn’t sure how they’d managed to pull themselves together enough to have any kind of conversation after the fiasco that was the hot-wing challenge two days ago, but they did manage to agree that they needed to know what their budget was before looking at any properties.

“I know, but afterward I thought it was a good idea to see what’s out there and how much it’s going for before Yara goes in there, just in case she has to negotiate.”

“Smart.” Saint pushed open the door and motioned for Lola to proceed him out. Rosie followed her and he stepped out last.

He watched Lola’s round hips roll in her light jeans as she strutted down the walkway in black, high-heeled combat boots. High-waisted jeans usually reminded him of the stuff his mom wore when he was a kid, but he wasn’t thinking about any of that at the moment. He was thinking about the amazing things they did for Lola’s ass and thighs. Saint had never considered himself an ass man or a man of any specific body part really, but with Lola it was different. With Lola he was obsessed with everything from the way her skintight black turtleneck hugged her breasts to the way her cheeks wiggled with every step. He remembered a rap song that said, “I hate to see her go, but I love to watch her leave,” and that was exactly how he felt. He could watch Lola walk forever as long as she came back in the end.

“To be honest though, I don’t really know what I’m looking at. It’s hard to picture any of these places as a community center.”

They stopped at the edge of the small parking lot. “I can help you go through them if you want.”

“Would you? I have some potential properties that I think could work. I printed them out, but they’re at my apartment,” she said, apologetically.

“I don’t have a problem going to your apartment unless you do.”

“I’m fine.” She looked down at Rosie. “Is that okay with you, Rosie?”

His daughter gave a regal nod, but otherwise looked uninterested.

Lola looked back at him. “It’s close enough to walk. Come with me.” Then she held out a hand for his daughter to hold.

Rosie reached up to grab Lola’s hand, leaving Saint shocked. He’d assumed his daughter would rush to him and hide behind his legs as she’d done at school, but no. She obviously felt at least somewhat comfortable with Lola. His spirits rose and he went to hold his daughter’s other hand as they walked down the street.

Lola turned her head to look at him, her eyes full of amusement and mischief. “I’ve been meaning to ask you how you’re feeling after the other night.”

Ugh. He did not want to talk about that. That damn chicken wing had put him through hell. His stomach still wasn’t back to normal, and he wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but he had the suspicion that he’d seared all of his taste buds. He grunted at her, sure she’d catch on to the fact that they were not going to talk about his stupidity.

---