Page 32 of Worth the Heat
“I’ve seen the women you’ve been with before,” she retorts. “I bet Camila’s mother is all-American, skinny, and absolutely beautiful.”
Jesus Christ.
“I don’t know, maybe she is,” I say flippantly, and I see the flash of pain that crosses Isabella’s face. But I’m so fucking angry I can’t even feel guilty. This woman still doesn’t think she’s enough.
“See?” she says, but the slight tremor in her voice gives away how Isabella feels. She’s hurt, even though she basically brought it on herself.
“No, I don’t fucking see,” I say angrily. “But maybe it’s about time you see,Naranja. If I were forced to pick Camila’s biological mother out of a lineup, I’m not sure if I could do it. Yeah, it’s been years since I’ve seen her, but also because she’s a dime a dozen.Fucking forgettable. I might have slept with her, but it wasn’t serious, and she was never someone I saw myself settling down with.”
Isabella crosses her arms, forcing her breasts to sit higher, and the fabric of her shirt strains to hold them in. With only a quick glance, I see her erect nipples, and I fucking salivate so badly I have to force myself not to drop to my knees and suck one into my mouth.
“You, however,” I finally say, my voice thick and husky, “I could pick out of a lineup no matter what. The curve of your waist. That ass that I’ve dreamt about more than once. Your hair that I desperately want wrapped around my fist. The legs I’ve visualized hooked around my body.”
“S — so you’ve thought about sex,” she stammers. “That’s a physical reaction. It’s chemical.”
I grab her left hand, bringing it up to my chest, but my eyes don’t leave hers. “I’ve thought about how it would feel to wake up with your hand on my chest. I’ve thought about the freckle on your ring finger more often than I care to admit,” I tell her with a quiet chuckle, and Isabella takes a quick breath as her eyes whip down to look at her hand. “I’ve thought about whether or not you like to cuddle, and if just being in your presence would lull me to sleep faster than any medication ever could. I may have thought about sex,Naranja, but I’m so far past that with you.”
ISABELLA
I’ve thought about all of that too.
There isn’t a soul in the world who knows what my thoughts have consisted of in regards to Sebastian Garcia.
Ever since my sister, Gianna, found love, my entire family has been pushing for all of us to find our person. I’m one of the most introverted in the family, and have never felt confident to take what — or who — I wanted. Arianna had no problem letting Stone know she wanted him. Luca fell so hard for Hannah that he was ready to walk away from hockey in the middle of the season for her. Dom and Alex were slightly more stubborn about their love stories, but now they’re so obsessed with their wives that I can barely remember a time when Kate and Natalie weren’t part of our family.
But all of the married women are mostly bubbly, extroverted, and ready for anything. Honestly, I could probably tell my sister-in-law Natalie about everything going on with Rick and whatever drugs he thinks I stole, and I bet she’d know someone who could make all the problems disappear. A couple of years ago, she’d have probably taken care of things herself, but as a new mom, I’m not going to bother her with my problems.
In any case, I’ve never told any of the ladies in my family that I’ve harbored a secret crush on Sebastian for a coupleof years. The first few times he’d asked me out, I’d chalked it up to some weird friend-of-a-sibling challenge. He’s close with three of my brothers, so I figured they’d made a weird bet. Ridiculous? Yes. Why I thought so poorly of my brothers at that time in my life, I’ll never know. We might poke fun at one another, but we’d never be intentionally vicious. And getting a hot guy to ask me out, only for it to be a joke, would be unspeakably cruel.
But it garnered some interest in Sebastian. I began to look for him while out. If he came to a family function, I’d keep him in my peripheral vision. I looked for any detail that might explain his apparent interest in me. He’d left me alone for well over a year — which I now know is when he first had Camila — but then started asking me out again. I just couldn’t comprehend his interest. Why me? A beautiful man who rides a Harley, and has a successful business, is gold. He could have anyone.
But as I stare at him, with sunlight glinting across his forehead as the rays cast through the trees, I’m wondering why I fought so hard to keep him at bay.
“Daddy! Hurry up!” I hear Camila call. Looking toward the house, I see her waving excitedly at us. Sebastian’s father stands behind her, and appears to be slowly rubbing his temples.
“Uh-oh,” I say with a nervous giggle. “Did she wear him out?”
“My beautiful daughter asks a lot of questions, and apparentlyAbuelitohas a numerical limit before he taps out,” Sebastian says wryly, casting a quick glance with a wink my way. Taking my hand in his, he pulls me toward his home.
I really like how my hand feels surrounded by his. Warm and strong. Steady.
“Daddy, Isabella promised I could help make dinner!” Camila says proudly, her energy palpable as she bounces in her bright floral shoes that apparently are scented. I thought she was joking until she shoved one shoe in my face, and I smelled a vague scent of blooming florals. She’s wearing jean shortscovered in sequins, and a rainbow colored shirt that matches two bows in her hair. The braids tell me Sebastian absolutely didn’t do Camila’s hair this morning, because his hairstyles tend to stop at pigtails.
Sebastian’s father nods at the two of us before quietly stepping away, heading back inside Sebastian’s house.
“She did, did she?” Sebastian asks, cocking an eyebrow at me. A perfectly shaped eyebrow with a symmetrical arch of black hairs. How have I never noticed how perfect his facial structure is? Sure, I’ve always known he’s attractive. But now I’m suddenly acutely aware of just how damn beautiful he is. “Isabella? Are you okay?”
“You’re pretty,” I blurt out, then slap a hand over my mouth in complete shock. My eyes widen as Camila giggles uproariously, and Sebastian grins at me.
“Thank you, sweetheart. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one here catching feelings,” he says. Before I can reply, he stoops down to pick up Camila. “What are we making for dinner?”
“Are you gonna help too?” Camila squeals. “Isabella said spaghetti and meatballs is an easy recipe she can teach me.”
“Ah. A nice Italian dish,” Sebastian says as he shifts Camila onto his hip, again grabbing my hand.
“It’s actually not Italian,” I pipe up, then explain more when I see Sebastian’s confused expression. “It’s more of an Italian-American dish. For the most part, meatballs aren’t served in sauce in Italy.”
“Really? Why?” he asks.
