Island Affair (Keys to Love #1) - Priscilla Oliveras Page 0,69
as you’re not a sleep kicker.” He turned to face her in time to catch her puzzled frown.
“A what?” One fist slipped down her hip, leaving her arm dangling at her side. And there went that loose strap, sliding down her shoulder again.
“You know. A mover-sleeper. Playing soccer in your dreams. Only, it’s not a soccer ball you wind up kicking. Enrique was notorious for taking potshots in his sleep if we had to share a bed on family trips.”
Sara’s perplexed expression relaxed into a grin. “I only played soccer one season in middle school. Wasn’t that coordinated but loved the running. The next year I went out for cross-country.”
Luis couldn’t help himself. His gaze scanned her long legs, admiring the smooth dips and curves of her adductors and quads, the rise and slope of her calves. Definitely runner’s legs. Legs his hands itched to trace.
“So, we’re good here.” Sara pulled back the ocean reef–inspired comforter on her side, then crawled onto the mattress. The front of her silky pj’s gaped when she leaned forward to adjust the sheet, giving him an enticing glimpse of her breasts.
Luis swallowed and looked away. Not fast enough, though. Not before the flash of those pale mounds was emblazoned on his brain.
He walked stiffly to the other side of the bed, absently rubbing a palm over the center of his chest. His heart pounded like he was a horny teen on his first date with the hottest girl in school.
Cálmate, chico, he ordered himself.
It had been an eventful day. Alternating between pretending to be her attentive partner and squashing his desire to be her real one. The stress from learning about her recovery and the mental calisthenics trying to stay on guard, mindful of potential triggers. Then Ruth’s assumption that Sara would attend mass with him in the morning.
He should be mentally spent. Feeling like one of the limp deadweight simulation mannequins they used for practice drills at the fire station.
Knowing his body would benefit from rejuvenating sleep, certain he’d get very little tonight, Luis swiped a hand along the inside bathroom wall to flip the light switch. When he turned back around, the low-wattage bulb in the bedside lamp, its glass bowl filled with seashells, bathed Sara in a soft, inviting glow.
She lay in their bed, the covers tucked primly under her arms, her blue-green eyes watching him intently. “I’m sure there’s a Starbucks or breakfast café near the church where I can wait.”
Luis climbed in beside her. Painstakingly careful to stay on his half of the far-too-small mattress. “You can’t miss mass on account of me. Or my familia.”
“I don’t want to cause a problem. So, if—”
“How ’bout we drive together and walk in separately. My parents like to stay and enjoy fellowship over donuts and coffee after mass. I’ll do a quick round of hello-good-byes, then meet up with you at my truck. We’ll clear out of the parking lot before anyone sees us.”
It was doable. The weekly catch-up that his parents, tías, tíos, extended relatives, and friends engaged in following mass often turned into a lengthy gabfest. Chisme flying between groups. Even the men were known to gossip, though his papi would never admit it.
As kids, Luis and his siblings wound up drifting over to the elementary school playground to run off the donut and red fruit punch sugar high. As teens, they’d lived for the day Carlos turned sixteen and bought his first car. That beat-up old Hornet with its rusty patches, faded blue paint, and threadbare seat cushions had seen better days, but to them it meant freedom.
Sara worried her lower lip as she considered his idea. “You think that’ll work?”
Luis slid underneath the cool sheets. “Yeah,” he answered, more confidently than he actually felt. Pulling a fast one on his mami was not an easy feat.
The worried furrow between Sara’s brows eased. Though it didn’t completely smooth away. “If you’re sure, I’d like to go. I haven’t been to mass here, and I have a tradition when I visit a new location.”
Chin tucked, she poked at the dark green embroidered design swirling along the top few inches of the sheet. He waited, expecting her to elaborate. Instead, Sara propped herself on her left elbow to reach up and switch off the lamp.
Luis had a tantalizing glimpse of the length of her slim figure hugged by her silky pj’s before the room plunged into muted darkness. Overhead, the skylight offered a picture-framed view of the starry midnight sky.