Bad Things(44)

He stopped and grabbed my hand, a world of understanding in his eyes. “I see more and more why we took to each other so quickly. We’ve been through a lot of the same things. It’s…nice to have someone that just understands.”

I squeezed his hand, losing myself a little in his golden eyes. “It is nice.”

It felt like we shared a moment of perfect understanding, but it was short lived, as the front door opened, Jared poking his smiling face out.

“Hey!” he called out. “The food is ready. Good timing. Get in here.” He popped his head back inside, rather reminding me of Ivan for a moment.

I liked Jared, but I didn’t quite get him. He could be like a carefree kid at times, and almost too intense at others. I felt like I was missing some piece of the puzzle where he was concerned. He was so much easier than Tristan, in ways, but he worried me more, though I couldn’t have said just why. One thing was certain; neither men were a puzzle that I expected to solve any time soon.

Tristan let go of my hand, which left me feeling a little bereft. I could admit to myself that I loved it when he held my hand. It made me feel so connected to him, for such a small contact.

He didn’t leave me like that for long, his hand moving to the small of my back in a light caress that nudged me forward with him. “You’re going to love my mother, but more than that, you’re going to die for her enchiladas.”

The house we walked into was crowded but colorful, the walls painted brightly, but a little too cramped with furniture and knick-knacks.

His mother was a surprise to me, for several reasons. She was young, or at least she looked very young. She could have maybe passed for Jared and Tristan’s older sister, rather than their mother. The biggest surprise by far, though, was that she was very obviously Hispanic, with a thick accent. I’d always just thought of the brothers as big white boys.

“Mama, this is my friend, Danika. Danika, this is my mother, Leticia.” He accented the name in a way I’d never heard him speak before, immediately showing me a touch of his Latin side.

I blinked, thrown for a bit of a loop.

Leticia was beautiful. There was a very obvious resemblance between the three of them. Their features all had a similar, striking cast, thought her eyes were black, and her skin was a few shades darker. Her thick black hair fell in heavy waves to her mid-back.

She gave me a smile, and it was lovely, but I noticed that Tristan must have gotten those dimples of his somewhere else.

She hugged me like family, kissing me on both cheeks. “So lovely to meet you, Danika. You may call me Mama, if you like. I never get to meet any of the girls Tristan spends time with. You must be special.”

I caught Tristan shaking his head out of the corner of my eye.

“I wonder why I never bring any girls here…Really, Mama. Don’t embarrass her.”

“If she chooses to spend a lot of time with you, I doubt she’s easily embarrassed,” Leticia shot back.

I thought she had a good point.

“Dinner’s getting cold,” Jared pointed out from the doorway that led into a divine smelling dining room.

The table was small, but loaded with food.

“I’ll do clean up, Mama,” Tristan said, pulling out two chairs from the table, and nodding his mother and I into each, “since I missed helping out on all the prep.”

“Gracias, mijomiho,” she said, shooting him a very fond smile.

“Brown-noser,” Jared muttered, from his seat directly opposite of me. I shot him a wry smile for that one. It’s like he’d read my mind.

Tristan sat to my right, and for some crazy reason, I felt his big hand squeeze my knee after he sat down. I shot him a rather shocked glare, and he removed it just as quickly as he’d placed it there, his expression completely innocent. If he wanted to play the teasing game, I thought I had a distinct advantage. I wasn’t the one that needed to jack off in the shower five times a day.

I shook myself out of that distracting thought process as everyone began to dish out the food. Leticia had a heaping serving on my plate before I could tell her it was too much.

The cheese enchiladas already had my mouth watering when Tristan spooned some black beans and rice onto my plate, and Leticia followed it with scoops of fresh pico de gallo, guacamole, and sour cream. Mother and son were tag-team overfeeding me, and I kind of loved it.

Leticia blessed the food, and I dug in eagerly. The first bite of the enchiladas had me closing my eyes, and I didn’t even try to stifle my moan of pleasure. Enchiladas were my favorite, and these ones were a perfect combination of…everything. I thought it was the sauce that made it so perfect.