Let Me (O'Brien Family, #2)(12)

Sol bounces across the finished basement. “I’m not surprised. She’s so Latina that way, wanting to feed everyone and make sure no one goes hungry.”

The more she speaks, the more she pulls me back to the moment, reminding me that I came here to see her, not wallow in all my crazy.

I glance around the large open area, admiring everything from the dark wood floors to the perfectly stained beams across the ceiling. My brothers helped Teo build and design this whole place. I came in to help with cabinets way back when they first started, but back then it was a work in progress and looked nothing like this.

A bar with a built in sink takes up the entire back wall, a door leading to a spare bedroom with a full bath set just behind it. On the opposite side is a media room―full screen and step up seating like you’d find in theatre―only with full reclining leather seats.

“Talk about the ultimate man cave,” I mumble, taking in the pool table, dart board, and pinball machine complete with flashing lights to my right.

“No kidding.” She sets the tray over a wire stand and starts the flame beneath, then fusses with the food already placed along the long table.

I want to edge closer to those sweet curves, but I force myself forward and across the room to the bar area. I place the bottles of soda in the stainless steel refrigerator, ignoring the tall longnecks calling my name.

Man, I could go for a beer, yet I resist―not because I wouldn’t mind a good buzz. Hell, I look forward to that buzz― but because I feel Sol watching me. And because I know she’s watching, I stretch as I straighten, flexing my muscles.

I mostly do it for a laugh since she probably can’t see much through my long-sleeved T-shirt. So when I turn to flash her a cocky grin―to let her know I’m well aware she’s checking me out―that grin widens at the sight of her slacking jaw.

“Full of yourself much?” she asks, averting her gaze. She plays with her hair like she’s trying to fix her ponytail, but all it does is cause the band holding it in place to snap. Her hair falls around her thin shoulders in wild messy clumps, making her already pretty face turn all kinds of sexy.

“Nah, just seeing if you’ll notice.” I march across the room for a better look, chuckling when I see her rushing to tame it. “Nice,” I say, hooking a strand around my finger and giving it a playful tug.

She sidesteps away from me, becoming more flustered. “Am I making you nervous?” I ask, my deep voice lowering.

“No,” she says, her tone a little higher. “I’m not, you know, easily intimidated or anything.”

I step in front of her and cross my arms. “Good to know,” I rumble.

She bites down on her bottom lip. If she’s trying to halt that bashful grin she doesn’t quite manage. But then she makes like it’s not there, motioning to the rear deck. “It’s hot in here,” she says.

“Yeah, it is,” I say, inching just a little closer.

Her demeanor relaxes when she sighs. I think I’ve annoyed her, but then she nudges me affectionately in the arm. “You know what I mean.” She motions to the outside patio. “I need some air. If Evie needs me for anything, will you tell her I’m out there?”

She doesn’t wait for me to answer, reaching for a coat folded over a bar stool and hurrying outside. Something is off with her. Just like it was at the diner. Yeah, I got her to smile and laugh a little. But the sadness―the one I’m not used to seeing is still there.

I watch her as she closes the door behind her. She expects me to stay inside, and maybe I should and give her space. A couple of my brothers are here with their women, my sister, too, and whatever idiot she decided to bring. But for all my family is tight, today the only person I want to hang with is Sol.

I give her some time, just enough to be social with the other guests. But when everyone heads downstairs to get some food, I find my coat and snag a plate to fill.

She laughs when I plop down in front of the outside fireplace beside her. “Nice set up,” I say, leaning back against the couch and offering a plate topped with appetizers.

“Thank you,” she says, reaching for what looks like a Cuban pastry.

She smiles before taking a bite. But like my grins, it seems forced. We share the appetizers. Neither of us say much, and at first I don’t mind. It’s nice out here, quiet and peaceful, a stretch of lawn packed with snow extending out to the trees lining the back. But as the sun sets in the horizon, and the only light that remains is from the fire, the silence becomes too much, especially with how distant Sol seems.

“I didn’t see your folks. Are they coming later?” I ask.

The way her shoulders tense, I know I hit a nerve I maybe should have avoided. “They’re not coming,” she says, her voice tightening. “They’re not available.”

“Sorry,” I say.

“Thank you,” she says, swallowing hard.

The way she looks at me―damn―it’s like I can feel her misery pooling in light eyes. I’m no genius. But I don’t need to be one to guess her mother’s probably not doing well again. Anyone living anywhere close to Fish town has heard of her mom. Whatever happened must have been pretty shitty. So I don’t push it. Instead I lean back, pretending like it doesn’t matter because in a way it doesn’t. It doesn’t change my opinion of Sol, if anything, all it does is make me want to lift her mood.