Island Affair (Keys to Love #1)(41)
If only she could stop her imagination from four-counting the two of them off the dance floor and into a different, decidedly more private space. Specifically, the bedroom they would share for the next week.
The smooth hardwood flooring at the rental house would prove a much better dancing surface than the bricked walkway here. And if that surface happened to lead to a softer, more giving one . . . namely the queen-sized bed . . .
Ooh, the thought of a private bachata lesson with Luis sent a delicious shiver through her. Body aflame from her sensual musings, Sara fanned herself with the paper To-Go menu she’d snagged from the hostess stand earlier.
“This humidity is something else, isn’t it?” her father asked. He wiped the sweat glistening on his brow with a handkerchief.
Sara lifted her hair up with one hand to fan the back of her neck. “We’re not in Arizona’s dry heat anymore, Toto.”
Her father chuckled.
“You know we mean well, right, princess?” Leaning his shoulder on the curved wooden support beam, her dad peered around it. A garish green streaked across his forehead from the neon beer sign above the bar behind her.
“Most of you anyway,” she murmured.
“All of us.”
Biting back a sigh, Sara nodded. She didn’t want to get into it with him, not here. Not this week. Not anymore, really.
The fact was, unlike with her and Jonathan, the emotional distance between her and Robin hadn’t diminished when Sara reached adulthood. After their mom had been diagnosed, that distance only lengthened.
“We’re different.” Hands loosely clasped, Sara lifted them toward her sister and Edward. Both born with two left feet, they’d given up trying to master the steps and now rocked back and forth in a slow circle together. “Always have been. Always will be.”
“Yes, but different doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Look at your brother and Carolyn. Her easy-going manner has mellowed him. In a wonderful way.”
Watching her brother and his wife bumbling through a partner turn and swing that looked more like the jitterbug than the bachata had Sara grinning.
“Their relationship has been a welcome example for your mother and me.”
“She’s good for him,” Sara answered. “He seems more relaxed. More content.”
“Exactly. And based on what I’ve seen of him today, I’d say Luis is good for you, too. It brings me comfort to know you’ve found someone who’ll take care of you.”
Guilt and disillusion partnered in a quick merengue beat that hammered in Sara’s chest. She ducked her head. Ashamed by her lie. Yet angry at her dad’s inability to understand that she wanted someone to care for her, not take care of her.
“Come on.”
She glanced up at her dad’s words. He tapped the tip of her nose lightly with his finger, a playful gesture he hadn’t done since she was a little girl.
“Let’s go rescue Luis from your mother’s lack of rhythm.”
Before she could respond, her father scooted around a nearby couple, sidestepping another as he made his way to her mom and Luis. Sara wanted to call him back, reassure him that she had learned to take care of herself. But her whole life they’d assumed otherwise. First counting on Mamá Alicia to fill in for them. Later assuming her sorority sisters would bolster her. Missing the boat on what she really craved from her family.
Swiveling along the pillar’s curve, Sara rested the back of her head against the wood surface and faced Mallory Square. She stared at the area that had been teeming with activity a couple of hours ago. Now it lay quiet and empty. Dark shadows and patches of light from streetlamps and the half-moon’s glow chased each other across the brick and cement surface. If you weren’t careful, especially near the pier’s edge, danger loomed in the shadowy recesses. Much like her psyche before she’d sought treatment.
When she’d been diagnosed with Other Specified Feeding or Eating Disorder her sophomore year of college, her family threw themselves into information overload mode, researching and educating themselves on every aspect involving OSFED. Suddenly she became a patient case for them to study and heal.
Mostly, Sara believed her parents and siblings were shocked that they hadn’t been the ones to recognize her struggles. It didn’t matter that her symptoms intermingled binge eating disorder and bulimia, which made OSFED more difficult to detect or diagnose. Or that it lay outside their respective areas of expertise. Sara became the focus of her parents’ attention based on their sense of responsibility. Too bad what she’d actually wanted was their attention borne of love.
As it turned out, Mamá Alicia, the one person Sara had always been able to count on, a person with no formal medical training but armed with a loved one’s intuition, had picked up on the behaviors Sara had hidden for years. Knowing something was wrong. Part of her desperate to stop the destructive behavior. Unable to figure out how.
“Mallory Square looks different at this hour, doesn’t it?” Luis asked as he sidled over to her.
“Almost spooky, in a Gothic romance kind of way.”
“I’ll have to take your word on that. I’m more of a murder mystery reader myself.” He stopped a hair’s breadth from her shoulder, apparently comfortable invading her personal space. Not that she minded. “Are you feeling tired, or can I charm you into one last dance?”