Page 5 of Just for the Holidays
“Gael,” she called as she reached him. They were both Latinx, after all, so when she lifted her face to his, he pressed his cheek to hers in hello. His skin tightened as it touched hers and an electric current ran through his limbs. He told himself it must be the chill in the air. That his surprise was the natural reaction to seeing someone after so long. She lookedso different, he was surprised, that was all. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, then blurted out the one thing that would almost certainly piss her off. “When did you start wearing red lipstick?”
She leaned back like she didn’t know what to make of his outburst, then she grinned. The old Perla would’ve recoiled at his question. In the past, feeling judged had been the fastest way for Perla to clam up. But today she just lifted a shoulder and grinned, cheeky and unfazed by his grumpiness.
“I thought I’d try something new. I got a little tired of neutral.” He knew he was glaring, but he didn’t seem to be able to come up with words just then. Perla didn’t seem to notice his silence. “Thanks for agreeing to do this.” She smiled sweetly and something primal pulsed in his chest. Whatever it was, he shut it down immediately.
“Don’t thank me. Thank Gabi’s pushiness,” he groused, sounding harsher than he intended. But Perla’s smile deepened at the mention of his sister, unaffected by his surliness.
“Knowing Gabi, I imagine she delivered the news with the subtlety of a freight train,” she joked, surprising a laugh out of him. But after a moment a taut silence descended, and they both seemed to run out of pleasantries at the same time. There was no pretending this wasn’t awkward. How does anyone handle meeting the person that at one time had meant everything to them? It felt like coming out of a bunker after six years underground and realizing the world had moved on without him. He’d been stagnant, and she’d blossomed.
He’d refused to dwell on his decision to end things after it happened. His whole approach had been to ignore what the breakup did to him. He’d told himself he didn’t deserve to mope around when he wasn’t the one who got dumped, and he’d put her and everything he lost out of his mind for six years. And that was not something he had any interest in revisiting. Maybe Manolo was right and considering this project was a mistake. He’d only been around Perla for a couple of minutes, and he was already unearthing ancient history.
“Here.” He gestured to the steps that led to their house. “Let’s go inside and we can talk there.”
She nodded, following him. Gael didn’t miss that she kept herself a few feet away from him. When it was time to climb the steps to the door, she let him go first and then stood away from him as he pushed it open.
One thing was clear: Perla was here for one thing and one thing only, and that was business.
Three
Perla had been prepared for the cold shoulder. For Gael acting like he’d forgotten who she was, but what she had not been prepared for was the effect Gael Montez’s appreciative gaze would have on her. Well, that was a lie—she remembered only too well how being close to him affected her; she’d just hoped time and distance had diluted that vulnerability.
It hadn’t.
And if possible, he was even more beautiful now. Larger than life in a way that was...distracting. Gael had always been movie-star handsome. Charisma to spare and the looks to turn heads whenever he walked into the room. People were drawn to him, and he knew how to keep their attention. He’d always been able to command Perla’s.
But in six years he’d gone from boyishly handsome to a rugged, almost dangerous masculinity. He’d always stood nearly a foot taller than she did, but since she’d seen him last he’d gotten bigger, more muscular. All the soft edges gone. He was sporting a beard and had his chin-length hair framing his face. She was not usually into the Winter Soldier look, but Gael pulled it off. He more than pulled it off. God, he could be a Carib warrior with that golden-brown skin, green eyes and chiseled jaw. Yeah, it was for the best that she’d only be here for a couple of hours.
As they made their way up the steps to his impressive home, she caught him sending looks in her direction. Despite her best efforts to remain unbothered, her belly fluttered and a smile tugged up her lips, because she knew what those looks were about. He was intrigued.
In the past year she’d gone for a completely different style. Something that reflected a bit more of her personality. Her whole life she’d taken direction from her mother about everything. From her hair color to the shoes she wore, but she’d freed herself of all that. Perla liked this new version of herself, and from the way Gael kept glomming her up with his eyes, she was thinking he appreciated it, too.
“Here we are,” he announced, opening the red door that led to the foyer of the home. It was a stunning place. Built in the Cape Cod style, the exterior was painted in a traditional light blue with white shutters. The interior was modern and with an open floor plan and lots of glass. The better for taking in the gorgeous views of the Long Island Sound.
“This is beautiful,” she complimented sincerely as he took her coat. She looked around, admiring the gleaming teak flooring and light gray walls of the foyer. From there she could see the floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace in the living room, which was decorated with garland and tiny white twinkling lights. There was garland everywhere actually, and she expected there would be a huge tree somewhere. Gael’s mother had always loved Christmas. Even when they’d lived in their little house in Bridgeport she’d made the space beautiful and festive. Perla was about to ask about his mother when she heard a familiar warm voice call her name.
“Perlita, querida!” Gael shook his head at his mother’s exclamation, and Perla couldn’t help smiling as she saw the woman come over to her with her arms open wide. Veronica was wearing an old Yale Mom sweatshirt and jeans, her shoulder-length hair now fully white. She looked warm and approachable. The polar opposite of Perla’s own mother, who was always groomed to within an inch of her life.
“Doña Veronica,” Perla said as she was engulfed into a warm hug. Veronica always smelled like vanilla and warm bread. Perla closed her eyes as the woman cooed over her.
“It’s been too long, sweetheart. More than a year now. And what is this Doña business. You call me Veronica, okay?”
Perla smiled at the feigned reproach, but before she could respond there was a sound from behind her, which she assumed came from Gael. “A year?”
Veronica nodded at her son’s comment without taking her eyes off Perla. “Yes, Perlita came to see me after that first surgery. You were in Italy shooting the second Space Squadron.”
“Oh.”
Perla’s face heated at the affronted surprise in Gael’s voice, but she wasn’t looking up at him. Letting him see her blushing was not advisable. Thankfully, Veronica was not done with her greeting.
“I’m so happy to have you here with us. I love your new style. It suits you.” Veronica pulled back to get a better look and smiled down at Perla. It was so good to see her again, but when Perla looked closely, she could see the deep lines around the older woman’s eyes. Veronica still had her energy and spark, but Gael’s mother had the look of someone who’d just fought a hard battle and won it by the skin of her teeth. “You have to have lunch with us. I want to hear what you’ve been up to. Gabi said you’re working at Sambrano.” The older woman paused then and squeezed Perla’s hand. “I heard in the news about the changes going on at the studio.” Veronica had too many manners to say that she’d seen Perla’s family drama plastered all over the news, including how her mother had tried her best to destroy her father’s legacy.
“Thank you,” Perla said dutifully, not wanting to delve into her still-complicated feelings about her family, her father’s death and the mess he’d left for all of them to pick up. He’d been a proud man, hardworking and brilliant, but he’d never been affectionate. He’d given all his children names of gems, but never treated them like they were precious to him. Perla, being the youngest, felt completely invisible to her father. And now that he was gone, realizing she hadn’t known her father enough to truly miss him, was almost too painful to dwell on.
“Gael, you need to make sure you’re done by lunchtime, so I can visit with Perla!” Veronica’s voice brought Perla back to the moment, and she had to smile at the older woman’s loving chastisement of her son.
“Sure, Mami.”
Perla turned to look at Gael and she saw in the set of his shoulders and the tightness around his mouth that he was looking for any indication that his mother was in pain. He’d always been protective of her. Well, he was protective of everyone; that was one of the many reasons Perla had fallen fast and hard for Gael. But his mother had always been his main priority. Perla never had the unconditional love Gael had always received from his mother, but she knew the responsibility he felt for taking care of the woman who raised him. Gael was a man who never shied from his duty. He always did what it took to take care of his people. She’d loved that about him...and that wasnotwhere her head needed to be at all.
