Redeemed (Dirty Air #4)(39)
“What are you doing next, Marko?” I look over at him.
“Mommy and Daddy take me racing.” He makes a zooming noise resembling a car as he flies an empanada into his mouth.
“Racing? Wow!” I laugh at the sight of him. The kid is so stinkin’ cute, I want him to stay for another week.
“They’re off to the next Prix once Maya picks him up tomorrow and joins Noah. They’ll spend the summer traveling around with the team before Marko starts school again.”
“That’s fun! Where are they going next?”
“Monza for the Italian Grand Prix.” He speaks low.
Marko claps his hands. “Yes! Italy! Daddy wins!”
I smile. “How do you know?”
“He’s the bestest.”
Santiago’s smile drops. The change is dark and unmistakable. Memories have a way of torturing us all, no matter the time or place.
I hate the look that crosses his face. Thinking with my heart rather than my brain, I blurt out something crazy because I want his sadness to disappear. “So, Santiago, what are your plans next week once Marko leaves?”
A couple of wrinkles mar his forehead as his eyebrows pull together. “Nothing much besides our dinner on Tuesday. Someone is delivering a new car for me to restore, so I guess I’ll work on that over the next few weeks.”
“Oh really? Do you remember that I love fixing cars? It’s a new passion of mine.”
His frown disappears as he cracks a smile. “Yes. I remember that fact about you. Vintage cars, right?”
“Oh, yes. The older the better.” That sounded like the right thing to say.
His smile turns into something downright devious. “Weird. I love vintage cars too.”
I press my palm into my chest and fake my shock. “Would you look at that? Who knew we had that in common! I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I joined you then to repair whatever car you picked?”
His guarded eyes meet mine. “Why would you want to do that?”
Yeah, Chloe, why? I remain calm and collected despite my racing thoughts. My actions barely make sense to myself, seeing as we never discussed spending time together outside of the ruse. But I can’t resist wanting to remove the sad look in his eyes when he thinks about his family racing without him. Even if it means letting my guard down.
17
Chloe
“I guess I better head out.” I intertwine my fingers and rock back on my heels.
With Marko asleep in his bed and all the dishes put away, it seems like the right time to go.
“Do you want to stay a little longer? I can open another bottle of wine?” Santiago rushes to get the words out, his voice hesitant yet hopeful.
Oh God. Is he nervous? I attempt to get a word out, but nothing passes my lips. Me, speechless. Brooke would laugh her ass off at the idea.
“No pressure. If you can’t because you have to go to work early tomorrow, then don’t worry about it,” he rambles on.
Screw him for crawling under my skin and making himself at home. I can’t resist nodding my head, agreeing to some one-on-one time with him. It’s as if he emits pheromones, trapping me with muscles, a sexy Spanish accent, and timid smiles.
Santiago leads us back into the living room before he leaves to grab a bottle of wine. My eyes land on the label when he enters the room again. It’s the same brand I fawned over during dinner, claiming I’ve never had anything that good since I usually purchase anything with a “buy one, get one free” label. The fact that he grabbed another of the same brand has me nearly falling over from swooning too hard.
Santiago takes a seat on the couch, saving a bit of space between us. I’m thankful for it because I’m seriously doubting my self-control around him tonight. He’s acting too sweet for my taste.
He passes me a full glass of wine. His hand brushes mine, sending a current of energy up my arm.
I rip my hand away. “What car do you plan on restoring?”
“A 1951 Jaguar C-Type.” He smiles to himself.
“Sounds...luxurious?” The only thing I know about cars is how the ones with the loudest muffler usually signal how there’s a man with a small dick nearby.
He laughs in a way that has my toes curling inside of my shoes. “Based on how it looks now, you wouldn’t say that.”
“Really? Why buy it then?”
“Because the fun is in fixing it up.”
“How long have you been doing this hobby?”
He looks away. “Since I could afford it.”
I try to hide my surprise. “And when was that?”
“When I made it with racing. Before that, it was a struggle for my family to make ends meet. All of this”—he waves around the room—“took hard work. My parents weren’t exactly financially set in life. At least not until I fixed them up with enough savings to live the rest of their lives comfortably.”
“Oh. Wow. I didn’t know that about you.” That small fact about himself has me looking at him in a new light. Maybe we have more in common than I initially thought.
“If you google me, it’s probably one of the first things that shows up.” He shakes his head. “Wait. Don’t google me. That’s never a good idea.”