You Had Me at Hola(26)

He imagined Jasmine in her own dressing room undergoing the same pre-kiss ritual, then gargled with mouthwash one more time.

Out of habit, he checked his phone before heading back to set, and frowned when he saw a voice mail from his father. Holding it to his ear, he listened to the message.

“Hola mijo,” Ignacio began, his typical greeting. “No te preocupes, todo está bien.”

Ashton’s heart sank. Whenever his father started with, “Don’t worry, everything’s fine,” things were not, in fact, fine.

“We’re going to the ER,” Ignacio went on in Spanish. “Yadi fell out of a tree and hurt his wrist. I think it’s just a sprain, but we’re getting X-rays. And your grandfather’s cough still hasn’t gone away, so he’s going to get checked out too. Mi madre is coming along for the ride.”

With a final “don’t worry,” Ignacio ended the message. Ashton squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then called back. It rang, and rang, then went to voice mail. Resisting the urge to call back repeatedly until his father picked up, Ashton sent a text instead, telling Ignacio that he was filming but wanted updates as soon as they were available. Short of running to the airport and hopping a flight to Puerto Rico, there was nothing else he could do.

This wasn’t Yadiel’s first trip to the ER. The kid never stopped climbing, which meant he fell a lot too. But each time, Ashton wished he could be there for the day-to-day bandaging of bumps and bruises. And his grandfather was eighty-three, so even a summer cold was a concern.

Someone knocked. “They’re ready for you,” a PA called out.

“Gracias,” Ashton replied. Co?o. While worrying about his family, he’d completely forgotten that he was about to film his first kiss with Jasmine. Out of habit, he reached up to run his hands through his hair, then quickly jerked them away. He didn’t want to explain to the hair stylists why his hair was suddenly a mess.

What he needed to do was calm down, but with his father incommunicado and no time to wait around for a reply, that seemed unlikely to happen.

Nothing to do but show up on set and hope for the best.





Chapter 13


CARMEN IN CHARGE



EPISODE 3

Scene: Carmen and Victor kiss.

INT: Serranos’ kitchen—NIGHT

Ilba gave the cue, and Dahlia picked up the cell phone sitting on the kitchen island. She glanced at the screen. “It’s Tía Jimena. Un momentito.”

She walked to the back of the kitchen and took the stairs, leaving the set.

At the counter, Carmen huffed. “She’ll be gone an hour.”

Victor crossed his arms and slid his hip along the edge of the counter, bringing himself closer to Carmen, smoothly getting inside her personal space without towering over her. He flashed her a charming grin.

“Do you think I have a chance at winning?”

Carmen gazed up at him from where she leaned her elbows on the edge of the island, assessing. “I think so. If you remember every step of the recipe, execute it all perfectly, and finish on time.”

He barked out a laugh. “No pressure.”

And because she understood him and the tremendous standards he held himself to, she repeated his words, but softly, with no sarcasm. “No pressure.”

Some of the tension left Victor’s face as he gazed at her, then he uncrossed his arms, lifting a hand to her cheek. His strong fingers skimmed over her face, curling around her neck. She fought a shiver at his touch.

“You have something here,” he murmured in a low, sweetly seductive voice that had made his first album go platinum. He stroked his thumb in achingly gentle passes over her cheekbone.

Carmen knew it for what it was. A line, an excuse to touch her. The distance between them was killing him, and he couldn’t keep his hands to himself anymore. She knew, because she felt it too.

But she was still going to call him on his bullshit.

“No, I don’t.” Her voice came out confident, but the words vibrated with need.

His surprise showed on his face in the slight widening, then narrowing, of his dark eyes. Maybe she hadn’t been so forward when they’d been together before.

“You’re right,” he said. “You don’t. I just . . . wanted to . . .”

This was it.

His fingers didn’t tighten on the side of her neck. He didn’t pull her. It was important to show that she wanted this as much as he did, that they were on the same page, partners in what was to come.

Carmen rose from where she leaned on the counter, lifting her chin up toward him, reaching for him. He slid his other arm around her waist and used her own forward momentum to bring her closer. In a single smooth move, they were suddenly tangled up in each other, in the heat and closeness, with the comforting smells of home all around them.

For a split second, their eyes met, an unspoken confirmation. Yes, this was happening. Yes, they both wanted this. And then they were leaning in, their mouths meeting in the middle in a crush of lips.

Carmen sank her fingers into Victor’s hair as he fisted his hand in the back of her dress. Lips pressed and nipped, chests heaved, mouths gasped as they shared a passionate kiss that seemed like it could go on forever.

The silence surrounding them was deafening, the only sounds their soft moans and breaths, picked up by the boom mic above them. Their attention was 100 percent focused on each other, except . . .