Island Affair (Keys to Love #1)(67)

“I’ll go see about renting chairs and an umbrella so you can get out of the sun,” Luis said, still in gruff protector mode.

“I brought a spare sheet to spread out. If you’re okay, I’m fine without a lounger. Shade is a good idea, though.”

“That works. I’ll grab a menu while I’m over there. Just in case.”

He jogged off without waiting for her response.

Sara bit her lip, barely stopping herself from yelling that he should ask about renting a better mood while he was at it.

Instead, she swallowed the smart-aleck jab. He meant well. She believed that. But if he started hovering like her family, it would put a pall on the rest of their afternoon. She refused to let that happen.

Like she often did with her parents, she’d have to set him straight. Make it clear he could stop worrying about her eating habits.

Hefting their woven beach bag on her shoulder, she scoped out an empty spot. Then, with the refreshing breeze’s billowing help, she spread the white sheet on the sand, securing two ends with one of her flip-flops and a third with their bag of supplies. By the time she was done, Luis had appeared with a young man wearing a navy polo and white shorts. The attendant quickly hammered a pole into the thick sand, then set up their umbrella before heading off to assist another customer.

Sara plopped down on her half of the blanket, waiting until Luis followed suit. As soon as he started removing his sneakers and socks, she bit the bullet.

“There’s no need for you to be concerned about whether or not I’m eating.” She pitched her voice low to avoid someone nearby overhearing their conversation. “If I’m exercising too much or downing laxatives.”

Luis’s fingers stilled on his left shoelaces.

He angled his head to look at her, his chiseled face serious. His gaze scanned hers for several tense seconds; she stared back at him, refusing to concede. Eventually he heaved a disgruntled sigh and got back to work unlacing his shoes.

After stuffing his socks in his black and red sneakers, he stretched across the sheet to place the shoes on the corner behind him, securing it from the stiff breeze.

“I noticed your reaction when you asked if I was hungry,” Sara pressed, refusing to back down from the issue. She’d hidden her OSFED for too long. Now she dealt with it head-on. Successfully. “Look, I appreciate your concern. Believe me, I understand where it’s coming from. You can ask, but not badger. What I really need is your trust and belief in me.”

Her feet buried in the sand, Sara looped her clasped hands around her knees and hugged them to her chest. A shield protecting her should his faith in her prove too fragile to withstand her plea. Nervously, she scrunched and opened her toes, the sand shifting around them.

Beside her, Luis propped his forearms on his raised knees, his big hands dangling between his legs. He faced the water, lips set in that damn grim line.

Sara’s heart raced. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

If he couldn’t do this, if their budding relationship changed because of her OSFED, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

It’d be a hard blow. But she’d handle it. Therapy and positive self-talk assured her she could cope with anything and do so in a healthy way.

Better she knew where Luis stood now, before she got in deeper. Before she cared more for him than she already did.

Keeping her gaze trained on a young mother slathering sunscreen on a squirmy toddler, the cutie’s round belly stretching a Little Mermaid one-piece suit, Sara stood her ground. “Like I already told you, I see my therapist regularly. I rely on learned cognitive behavior therapy skills. And Dr. Evans is on speed dial if I’m struggling with a trigger.”

Luis shifted beside her. Not wanting him to interrupt her, Sara rushed on, needing to get this out before she second-guessed herself.

“Which hasn’t happened in a while now. Not since my mom finished chemo and we got our first good news. My family hovers. Robin gets annoyed or aggravated or, whatever, for whatever reason. But you—”

She turned to face him, the sheet twisting beneath her crooked knees. Sand spilled onto the material, marring the white surface like the topic of her disorder had done to their carefree afternoon.

“You look at me differently than them, than a lot of others. Like I’m normal, whatever that really means. And I, I need for that to continue. For this, us, not to change.”

Suddenly, like a kettle left too long on the stove, she ran out of steam. Agitated, Sara tugged off the ball cap, gripping the bill tightly in her hands. The wind cooled her heated brow, blowing loose tendrils across her cheek.

“You are normal.” Luis twisted to splay his right hand on the sheet, leaning on his straightened arm for support. “I mean, we’re all dealing with something we don’t want to in our lives. In one way or another.”

“Like whatever happened between you and Enrique.”

He drew back at his brother’s name.

“C’mon, if I can share my deep dark secrets, you can, too.” Sara poked his shoulder with her knuckle. He didn’t even budge.

With his dark sunglasses in place, she couldn’t read his eyes. The rest of his face was set in a stoic, don’t-mess-with-me expression that probably worked with recalcitrant individuals when he responded to a call. It wouldn’t work with her.

Had they not spent the past few days together, basically fast-tracking their relationship, she might have backed off. Worried about overstepping some unspoken but definitive boundary.