Island Affair (Keys to Love #1)(53)
“Anyone need another drink?” he asked.
By the time Jonathan made it to the table carrying several dark green beer bottles for the other guys, Luis had kicked off the domino game by slapping down the double six. Sara’s mom’s triumphant “yes!” coupled with her wide leer drew a rumbly chuckle from him.
“I have to warn you,” Sara told Luis as she moved to stand behind him. “Game night can get pretty cutthroat in our house.”
Resting her hands on his shoulders, she bent down to peer at his dominoes. Luis turned to look at her, his handsome face inches from hers. The corners of his eyes crinkled with the easy smile she had quickly grown fond of seeing. He surprised her with a peck on her jaw that sent tingles tap-dancing their way down her body.
“We’ll go easy on him, Sar-bear. Don’t worry,” her father promised, sending her mom a satisfied smile. Ruth patted his hand on the edge of the table, punctuating some secret between the two of them.
Sara wasn’t sure whether to be relieved they’d fallen for her ruse with Luis. Or worried about what they might be scheming themselves.
“Oh, I can hold my own,” Luis assured them. “I’m not easily intimidated. Though what I’ve got in front of me should scare you two.” He pointed at Edward and her dad, seated to his left and right.
“That’s what I like to hear,” her mom crowed.
Sara rolled her eyes. Apparently, no one was holding back when it came to trash talk. Not even Luis.
“Do you have a good . . . is it called a hand in dominoes?” she asked him.
“Yeah, ‘hand’ is the right terminology. Same as with cards.” Luis rearranged his dominoes matching ones with the same numbers of black dots on one half or the other. “Does anyone want me to talk us through this first game, provide some options they could choose from based on their or their partner’s dominoes?”
“I’m already Googling domino strategy,” Robin said, tapping away at her cell phone screen. She dragged another chair closer to Edward, her serious game face already in place. “No need for a practice round. We’ll pick this up quickly.”
Jonathan snagged the sixth dining table chair and set it between their parents. As soon as he sat down, Carolyn sank onto his lap, one arm casually draped over his shoulder.
“We’ll watch and learn,” he said, before taking a swig of his beer.
“Here, join me.” Luis scooted his chair back a little, opening his arms for Sara to sit with him.
It all seemed so cozy. A little surreal. An average family snapshot she’d always dreamed of. Her entire family together with her not feeling like an outsider, either too young or too different or too emotionally weak to be an equal.
Time had eroded the age gap once she’d reached adulthood. Regular therapy had helped with the other two.
But somehow, having Luis here with her, partnered with someone she respected and cared for like her parents and siblings were, gave her a sense of belonging she had always craved.
She recognized that this wasn’t real, but for now, she allowed herself to believe it.
Stepping between the artfully scarred wooden table and Luis, Sara squatted tentatively on his left knee.
“You can’t possibly be comfortable like that. Come here.” His large hands grasped her hips, easily sliding her toward him until her bottom rested snug in the crook of his lap. The motion pulled the hem of his shorts up a few inches, leaving the warmth of his thigh cushioning her legs.
He rested his chin on her bare shoulder, the day’s growth of scruff rough against her skin. Earlier, while they’d waited for dinner to arrive and she responded to emails and social media comments in the first-floor office, he had showered and changed. Now his earthy scent mixed with a clean soapy smell luring her closer.
Instinctively she melted against him, barely curbing the urge to burrow into the sanctuary of his muscular arms and chest.
Luis’s hands tightened on her hips for the briefest moment, before releasing her to fiddle with his domino pieces. He picked up one, set it back in the same place. Moved another to the end of his tiny row, only to put it back in its original spot. A pointer finger tap-tap-tapped the top of another piece but didn’t change its position. As if he were . . . nervous. Or distracted. By her, maybe?
Did he feel the same drugging pull? A similar impulse to bag the game and head up to their room to explore where their pent-up attraction might lead?
“Okay, so I’m next,” Edward announced, thwarting Sara’s ill-advised musings as he plunked down a domino.
The play continued around the table, with Luis sometimes stopping one of the others from making a move that might potentially block their partner. Occasionally the game slowed as someone counted the pieces, trying to ensure they didn’t “lock” the game, as Luis called it, by placing the last domino with a certain number on one end of the train while the same number remained at the other end. In essence, leaving no one with the ability to make another move.
“How do you say that in Spanish again?” Robin asked.
“Tran-car,” Luis repeated, enunciating the syllables. “To lock, or to get stuck, basically.”
Robin repeated the word in her heavily English-accented Spanish. “I have taken medical terminology Spanish to help communicate with patients, but my tongue simply cannot master the rolled r,” she told him. “Of course, I didn’t have the added benefit of a nanny who spoke the language to teach me from a young age like some of us did.”