Page 54 of Rare Blend
Miguel’s eyes meet mine. “Ya me cae bien.” (I like her already.)
“Sí, ¿verdad”(I know, right?)
Marisa gasps, taking a step back. She stares at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me right now! You speak Spanish?” Her voice is a mix of surprise and barely contained laughter. She playfully pushes my chest, giving me a little shove. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrug, my lips curling slightly at the edges. “Never came up, I guess.”
Her head shakes as she struggles to keep a straight face. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
My chest puffs slightly. She almost looks…impressed with me. And it makes my heart thunder right under the searing handprint she left behind.
Miguel gets called over for a question and waves his goodbye, tipping his head at Marisa as he leaves.
“Anyway,” I change the subject, before I get too comfortable enjoying Marisa looking at me like she doesn’t completely hate me anymore. “You should get your pictures. The sun is in the perfect spot right now.”
She nods in agreement, already pulling out her phone.
The sun really is in the perfect spot, as if it knew Marisa needed it to peek through the cloudy sky just enough to shine down over the gloomy autumn day we’re having.
I leave her to check on Alex.
“Who’s she?” Alex asks, nodding his chin in Marisa’s direction. “New girlfriend?” He nudges my arm jokingly.
I give him a flat look. “You know she’s not. She works for theHerald.”
He laughs, his shoulders lifting. “Jefe, don’t be so sensitive. I’m just asking.”
I let Tawny convince me to get the guys to like me, and now Alex is comfortable enough to tease me. And I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
“Hey, Ethan,” Marisa yells. “Come here for a second.”
“Your novia is calling you,” Alex says with a snicker.
“Shut up,” I whisper under my breath, feeling my cheeks heat like a pubescent boy.
Marisa stands in the section of the vineyard that has a direct view of Red Mountain, the town’s namesake.
“What’s up?”
Her already large eyes somehow look even larger as she looks at me with her chin down and head tilted. She’s giving me the female equivalent of puppy dog eyes, and I know I’m about to be talked into something I don’t want to do.
“Would you be totally opposed to a picture?” She smiles cautiously, almost wincing, as if she’s worried. “Just one?”
I hate the pang of guilt that hits me because of the tiptoeing she feels she has to do around me. I don’t want her to be afraid to ask me for anything, let alone a silly picture.
“Sure.” I hate pictures. The last thing I want to do is take a picture, given how much I sweat my ass off today, but I’m not saying no to Marisa. I’m not sure I’m capable of it.
“Really?” she squeals. “I thought for sure you’d stomp away from me, pissed that I even asked.”
The guilt transitions to full-fledged shame. Of course she expects that. It’s how I’ve been behaving, and I wish now, morethan ever, that I could restart the clock and go back to our first meeting. I would do it all differently.
Her eyes squint, assessing the space. She grabs onto both of my arms and guides me a few inches right and then steps back, taking it all in.
“Stay right there,” she commands.
I do as she says and remain unmoving, save for my eyes. They bounce from where she sucks in her bottom lip, deep in concentration. To the floppy strand of hair sweeping across her forehead that I itch to touch. To her completely out of place professional attire. The juxtaposition of it all has me biting back a grin. I can’t tear my eyes away.
Her lips purse, and she stares at me as she walks closer. Close enough that I can smell her signature vanilla scent.
