Island Affair (Keys to Love #1)(38)
Jonathan reached across the table to cover one of Sara’s hands with his, stopping her fingers from worrying a hole in the fabric napkin she clutched.
Luis remained quiet. Assessing the situation for clues to the cause of the strange tension that had cropped up moments after the others had opened their menus. His mind ran through the information Sara had revealed earlier. It didn’t help. He continued drawing a blank as to what everyone seemed to be tiptoeing around here.
With him feeling like he was missing an oar, there was no way he could steer Sara out of whatever tempestuous waters she and her family navigated. Instead, he felt like he’d been left behind on the shore. With no idea how to defuse the situation.
“I’m doing okay. I promise.” Sara directed her words at her mom and dad, both of whom wore the pained expression of a worried parent. “This week is about celebrating Mom. So please, can we keep the focus on her and trust that there’s absolutely nothing to worry about with me.”
“Uno, dos, tres. Testing one, two, three,” the band’s lead singer said into his microphone.
Cradling his guitar, he nodded at the keyboardist, then turned to the bongo drummer, who gave a thumbs-up.
“Excuse me, I’m going to run to the ladies’ room before the music starts.” Sara slid from her seat and fast-walked to the door leading inside the restaurant. The material of her peach dress clung to her shapely hips, accentuating their exaggerated shake as she hustled away.
The sound of a chair scraping against the brick floor brought Luis’s attention back to the table. Down at the opposite end, Ruth half stood. Charles’s hand on her shoulder kept her from rising completely.
“Let her be. Pushing her won’t help,” Charles cautioned.
Ruth’s thin face crumpled at her husband’s words. She opened her mouth to respond, but the bandleader’s voice drowned her out.
The older gentleman in olive dress slacks and a cream guayabera shirt welcomed everyone and introduced the opening song, a well-known bachata. The first strains of the slow song brought several couples out of their seats to gravitate toward the band.
“C’mon, Mom. They’re playing our song.” Jonathan slid his chair away from the table, then moved to cup his mother’s elbow.
Ruth hesitated. Her troubled gaze bounced between the restaurant’s back entrance where Sara had disappeared and Jonathan.
“Time for me to wow you with my dance moves like I promised.” Jonathan attempted a box step but wound up tripping over his own foot.
“Son, I’ve seen them before. Wow’s usually appropriate, but not in the way you’d want to brag about.”
The others chuckled at her quip and Ruth’s worry eased.
“Honestly, Mother, you really know how to make a guy feel special.” He winked and led her away.
Luis mumbled a quick “excuse me” to the others, then beelined to follow Sara. Whatever was going on, he needed to be clued in.
Inside, he strode through the cigar store, the air pungent with the rich scent of tobacco mixed with those of the spices and meats from the steaming dishes waiters balanced on serving trays held high above their heads. The gift shop was packed with shoppers searching for the perfect memento to take home. Some would venture over to Mi Abuela’s bodega, where they’d find shelves lined with dry and canned ingredients. Perfect for those eager to try their hand at cooking the Cuban and Caribbean dishes that made the restaurant famous.
Luis wove through the tourists, ignoring the pictures and paintings that told the history of the Cubans who’d left their island and made Key West their home centuries ago. Eventually the crowd thinned as he reached the open path leading to the indoor restaurant space at the front of the building.
He drew to a halt when he spotted Sara eyeing one of the brightly colored murals and 3-D artworks decorating the walls. One hand pressed to her stomach, she gazed at a scene depicting three men in a Cuban barbershop.
“Makes me wish I wouldn’t have left my phone back at the table,” she told him when he reached her side. “I’ll have to come back later to snap a picture.”
“You want to use mine?”
She shook her head.
“You feeling okay?” Luis dropped his gaze to her flat belly where her hand still rested.
Sara turned away and strolled farther along the walkway. The waves of her blond hair swayed along her bare shoulders, teasing him with the urge to brush the tresses away and drop a kiss on her pale skin.
“You care to tell me what that was about back there?” he asked.
“God, I love all these colors. They’re so vibrant and rich. Soulful.” She ran her fingertips lightly over the thin wood cutouts of a chicken surrounded by different variations of flowers local to the Keys.
A flicker of annoyance flared through him at her obvious avoidance. He couldn’t help if he didn’t know what they were dealing with. “Ignoring me isn’t going to work, you know.”
She sucked her teeth and flicked an exasperated glance his way. The same mature response she’d given her brother when he tried convincing her to share his ropa vieja entrée.
The door to the women’s restroom opened a few feet away, and two middle-aged women exited. Luis waited until they had passed by before pressing Sara again.
“We’re supposed to be on the same team here. That’s not going to work if I’m kept in the dark. What’s going on?”