Island Affair (Keys to Love #1) - Priscilla Oliveras Page 0,71
pew at mass in the morning,” she continued. “Your family won’t have a clue about me. I promise. There won’t be any problems with them for you when this is all over.”
Because—mood buster—it would eventually be over.
He’d do well to remember that. Along with his vow to never give another woman the power to hurt him by abusing his trust and compassion.
That hadn’t happened with Sara. Yet. He needed to keep it that way.
Without another word, he rolled onto his back and stared at the patch of inky black sky. A faint star winked in the distance, like it was in on some cosmic joke unknown to him.
After a short while Sara’s breathing evened out, and he sensed that she had fallen asleep.
Luis lay awake long into the night thinking about the last time he’d been convinced he could save a woman deeply wounded by her broken family situation by showering her with love and his commitment to building a happy life with her. Only to have it all blow up in his face. Him left reeling at the truth, dealing with the irreversible damage.
If he made the same error with Sara, nothing would pull him out of the deep abyss—screw trying to call it a rut—that mistake would leave him in. Not even if his brother gave him another ass chewing.
He’d simply have to stay on guard. And pray the walls of St. Mary’s didn’t tremble in protest when his lying butt walked through the doors tomorrow morning.
Chapter 13
“?Qué te pasa?”
At his mami’s harsh whisper Luis swiveled his head around to face the front of the church so fast pain seared the left side of his neck.
“Nothing’s wrong; why?”
Seated beside him in the third row, she frowned, her worried mother hen impersonation in perfect form. On the other side of her, wearing a freshly pressed gray guayabera with black slacks, his father shot Luis a questioning frown of his own.
Up on the altar, Father Miguel continued with his homily. Thank goodness for the reprieve. His mother was a stickler for no chitchat during mass. Each of her kids had received the surreptitious swat of her fan or a swift elbow jab in the ribs enough times growing up to know that much.
“?A quién buscas?” his mom rasped.
With Father Miguel still in the midst of explaining the value of the day’s readings, Luis’s mami breaking her silence rule to ask him who he was looking for was so surprising, he nearly answered her truthfully. Seconds before Sara’s name slipped off his tongue, Luis clamped his mouth shut.
He ducked his head in deference to the crucifix and eye-catching stained-glass image of Stella Maris, the church’s namesake, centered high in the altar’s pale blue back wall. With a mental sign of the cross for the half-truth, he whispered back, “I thought I saw someone I knew when I came in.”
His mother’s brow furrow deepened, a sure sign she wasn’t convinced. Keeping his gaze straight ahead, Luis rubbed the pain still warming the side of his neck after his whiplash move moments ago.
Father Miguel wrapped up his teaching with his customary “And the church says . . .”
The congregation answered, “Amen,” as they all stood to recite the Apostles’ Creed. The rustle of feet shifting rippled through the open nave, ricocheting off the vaulted ceiling decorated with pressed-metal panels.
Luis stopped himself from angling sideways to peer through the crowd again, searching for Sara. He figured her multicolored sundress would be easy to spot. But since they had parted ways in the far back corner of the parking lot before mass, he hadn’t spotted her.
This morning, when his cell phone alarm had chimed at seven forty-five, he’d woken to the warmth of her snuggled up to his side. Her head pillowed on his shoulder. His palm cradling her hip.
It was the best good morning greeting he’d had in years.
Based on the way she had scrambled off the bed with a mortified, “I am so sorry!”, Sara obviously hadn’t felt the same. She politely offered to head downstairs for coffee first, giving him some privacy to shower and change. Then she’d hurried from the room like they were in the midst of a fire drill.
Luis had gotten ready in record time. Afterward, he’d sipped a cup of coffee on the back patio alongside her dad, leaving her alone in the room to get ready and Luis stuck trying not to remember the welcome warmth of her body cuddled with his.