Island Affair (Keys to Love #1)(40)
One look at her tight-jawed, don’t-push-me expression had the questions melting on the tip of his tongue like the cotton candy he’d bought his nephews at Children’s Day in Bayview Park last October.
Co?o, she’d give his sister a run for her money when it came to hardheadedness.
But he . . . Well, he was a patient man.
He intended to get to know her better. Find out exactly what she meant by having it “under control.” Whatever it was. To ultimately convince her that she could trust him to do everything in his power to make sure she truly was “fine.”
“Well?” she insisted.
Right hip cocked in a jaunty angle, she tapped the toe of her gold sandal against the brick floor, telegraphing her irritation. Now why wasn’t she this pushy when her sister threw out one of her blunt jabs?
Another question Luis planned on answering.
Not that she would appreciate hearing so, but she actually looked kind of cute when she let her anger loose. Blue-green eyes flashing. Lips pursed in a kiss-my-ass pout that had him thinking about kissing several other parts of her sexy body.
He’d known her less than a day. Yet somehow, he felt certain there’d come a time when he’d count it among the best days he’d ever had.
“Here’s another tidbit for that ‘Why He’s So Hot’ list you’re compiling about me.” Tucking a hand in the arms she still kept folded across her chest, he gave a little tug that had her stumbling forward a step while he backpedaled.
“More like my ‘Why He’s So Annoying’ list?” she countered.
Again with the sass. He liked the color it brought to her cheeks.
“If you don’t want to find me, or pretty much anyone in my familia, on the dance floor, don’t start the music. C’mon, they’re playing one of my favorites.”
He watched the playful grin dawn on her face. Slowly. Hesitantly. Then in all its full glory, like the sun peeking its hello across the sky when he was out for an early morning run. It transformed her classic features, rounding her cheeks and crinkling the corners of her eyes. Invigorating him at the idea that his words had brought her this much pleasure.
“Is that a promise or a threat?” she teased.
Luis halted, and Sara bumped into his chest with an “oof!” He palmed her hips, holding her soft curves firmly against him.
“Cari?o, with me, either one could get you into trouble.”
The endearment felt natural when it came to her. If him calling her sweetheart bothered Sara, she didn’t show it. Instead, she tipped her head back on a husky laugh that had lust tightening his jeans.
And damn if he didn’t feel like a red snapper caught on the end of her fishing pole. Only, fool that he might be, he wasn’t squirming to be released.
*
Sara sighed in full-on swoony appreciation.
There was something seductive about studying a man who looked at home on a dance floor. His hips fluidly moving to the beat of a quick-tempoed salsa or merengue. Swaying to the sultry rhythm of a bachata.
She watched as Luis guided her mother in another spin around the open area between the outdoor bar at El Meson de Pepe and the small stage where the band played. Enclosed on three sides and raised a couple feet high in the air, the stage provided shelter from inclement weather. Although the thin walls also kept out the breeze wafting in from the ocean. That’s probably why the three men had recently returned from their first set break, refreshing drinks in hand.
“Your mother appears quite taken with your young man.”
Sara turned to her left to find her father standing next to the wooden pillar she leaned against. A warm, heartfelt smile deepened the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth.
She followed his gaze back to where Luis and her mother stood, facing each other, in front of the band.
“She certainly does,” Sara murmured.
Under the glow of the streetlamps dotting the area and the hanging lights over the patio bar, Luis held her mother’s hands in each of his while patiently demonstrating, once again, the one-two-three-four count footwork for the bachata. “Loose-hipped” would never be a description used for Ruth. Still, she seemed hell-bent on trying to add the little hip hitch on the four and eight beats that came so naturally to Luis. Like so many other moves he made.
Yes, Sara had definitely taken note of how deftly he mastered the dance floor, even in well-worn work boots and loose-fitting jeans that hung low on his trim hips. As had a group of middle-aged women seated at a nearby table openly ogling the handsome firefighter.
She and Luis had danced a salsa and bachata together earlier. Then, with Sara’s pulse still racing after the floor-sweeping dip he’d shocked her with at the end of a salsa, they’d swapped partners. He’d gently swept her mom up in his strong arms, then followed up with Carolyn. Much to their delight.
Despite Jonathan’s good-natured cry of, “Show-off,” to Luis, Sara’s brother had rallied long enough to trounce on her toes a few times before she cried uncle.
Ultimately, Luis’s contagious pleasure on the dance floor coupled with the lively music had diffused any sign of her family’s earlier discord. After taking the time to teach them a few basic steps, he was the hit of the evening with pretty much everyone. Even sour-faced Robin had been convinced to join him for an easy merengue.
Sara knew she should be thankful. She hadn’t seen her mom so full of life and laughter in . . . well, ever probably. Luis was single-handedly winning over them all. Just like she’d wanted.