Island Affair Page 11

  “You sure you wanna go there?” he challenged.

  “If the nickname fits.”

  “Fine, let’s go, blondie. We’re already three minutes behind.”

  “Punctual. I like that.”

  “In my line of work, three minutes can save a life.”

  A lifesaver. The description certainly fit the man.

  Luis strode toward her and damn if she didn’t want to stay right where she was. Door closed. Just the two of them. Learning a whole lot more about each other.

  Fortunately, sanity prevailed. She twisted the doorknob at her side, then slipped into the hallway and headed toward the stairs.

  “Another one of your many virtues,” she teased. In reality, she was awed by the ease with which he spoke about the high stakes in his job.

  “Oh yeah, I’m the real deal. Isn’t that already on your cheat sheet of notes?”

  “Sounds like someone needs a little ego check.”

  “Yeah, we better help your sister with that,” Luis countered.

  Sara threw back her head with a laugh, accidentally bumping into him on the step above her.

  Luis grabbed ahold of her when she pitched forward. His big palms spanned her hips. His fingertips pressed low on her belly. Instinctively she leaned back against him. With his arms wrapped around her, the warmth of his chest seeped into her bare shoulders, eliciting a deep yearning that careened straight to her core.

  Her laughter quieted as the attraction simmering underneath their banter bubbled to the surface.

  Jonathan poked his head around the banister at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey, lovebirds, let’s go. I’m starving.”

  A breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding gushed from between her lips.

  Luis’s right hand patted her hip. He released her, and Sara continued down the stairs.

  Apparently, her brother had developed another fine trait to match his teasing—terrible timing.

  Or maybe, without even realizing it, he was saving her from making a mistake.

  Right or wrong, she looked forward to the night ahead in Luis’s company, even if they’d have to be on their toes in case they ran into someone he knew.

  * * *

  Mallory Square bustled with an energy and excitement that infused the ocean air and had Sara feeling invigorated.

  With the nightly sunset celebration in full swing, the pier was packed with revelers of the local and tourist variety. All seeking a good spot to view the next performer or haggle a deal from a vendor or jockey for their position to marvel at the majestic ball of fire spreading its kaleidoscope of rich colors across the sky and rippling water.

  Up ahead, Robin and Edward peered around others gathered to watch a sword-swallower wow them with his talents. Sara’s parents had wandered off, called as if by the Pied Piper in the guise of an older gentleman dressed in Scottish regalia, his thick thighs flexing under his kilt as he moved to the beat of the bagpipes he played. Enamored by a vendor’s seashell jewelry display, Carolyn had dragged Jonathan over to help select a gift for little Susan. The three-year-old was on a Little Mermaid kick at the moment, dreadfully sad about missing a beach vacation that might potentially include meeting a “real-live mermaid.”

  They’d arrived downtown an hour ago and found the wait for a table at El Meson de Pepe would have them eating right as the fiery ball heated the waters during its nightly bath. With the scent of freshly fried conch fritters wafting from one of the vendors nearby, Luis had sent the rest of the group to hunt down the appetizer while he chatted with the restaurant manager, another schoolmate of his. By the time he’d caught up with the group, everyone else in Sara’s family cradled paper boats of fritters in their hands. She had eyed the brown paper napkins mottled with dark spots from the hot grease dripping off the fried balls of breading, conch meat, and spices, then passed on ordering.

  Sara nibbled a fritter her parents had nagged her to sample, but did snap a photo of the booth and smiling salesman, promising to tag him in her post-vacation blog next week.

  Now she and Luis strolled on the fringes of the revelry so she could take it all in. Whenever the crowd swelled near a performer, Luis put a hand on the small of her back and tucked her closer to his side. Ever the protector, he blocked errant elbows and body shoves from those pushing their way through the masses.

  Rising on her toes, Sara craned her neck to see around a tall, gangly teen standing at the back curve of a horse-shoe-shaped crowd oohing and aahing. Inside the half ring, a juggler in ratty sneakers, ripped jeans, and a white tank proclaiming “All’s Better in the Keys” balanced on a unicycle. The bike’s seat and pedals sat about ten feet high. At the top, the juggler jerked the bike forward and backward with his feet, fighting for balance while tossing bowling pins in the air with ease.

  “This is a popular place,” she mused.

  “You should see it during tourist season, around mid-December to late March or April. Northerners we call snowbirds flock to the Keys to escape the cold. People are packed in here like sardines.” Luis leaned in so she could hear him over the competing music, continual ware hawking, and general conversation.

  Her shoulder brushed against his chest and she ordered those butterflies in her belly to hunker down. No use wasting their energy. Absolutely no good would come of their efforts to get her all fluttery over Luis.

  During the short drive to Mallory Square, with Jonathan and Carolyn in the truck’s backseat, Sara’s brother peppering Luis with questions about growing up in Key West and wrongly assuming she had visited her boyfriend here before, the gravity of this ruse sank in even more. The compounding lies. Even the ones left unspoken but that allowed her family to believe an untruth she didn’t, couldn’t, correct.

  She’d hopped out of the truck with the fleeting idea of admitting everything. Taking Luis off the hot seat. Facing the firing squad of questions her family would barrage her with.

  Then, while Luis helped Carolyn climb down from the backseat on the driver’s side, Jonathan had shut the passenger door on their side and skewered Sara’s intent to come clean by revealing, “He seems like a nice guy. I get why Mother’s smitten with him. Seeing you with someone like Luis has her relieved. It’s good.”

  With another annoying ruffle of her hair, her brother had sauntered off to catch up with his wife and Luis.

  And Sara had been left with no choice but to swallow the truth ready to spring out of her.

  That did not, however, give her permission to join her mom on the smitten cruise ship. Not at all.

  Instead, Sara vowed to keep a clear head. Avoid as many lies as possible while reminding herself she could not, would not, fall for them herself.

  Her therapist would caution her about jumping into something too quickly, remaining cognizant of her need to feel connected to others. How that need manifested in good ways and bad. It’s part of why she excelled as a social media influencer. A benefit in business; a curse when it came to her personal life.

  The unicycling juggler finished his act in a flurry of flying bowling balls that had a few onlookers nearby ducking. After a reminder that he earned his keep via their generous tips, he posed for selfies and pictures and called thanks to those who dropped bills into a floppy straw beach hat marked “Donations.”

  As she and Luis followed the crowd toward another act farther along the pier, a male voice called out, “¡Oye, Santo!”

  Luis stiffened beside her. He quickly shifted direction, sliding his big hand along her lower back and guiding her toward the sunset. Away from the row of booths now behind them.

  “¡San Navarro, ven pa’ca!”

  The pressure on her lower back increased.

  Sara glanced over her shoulder, then slowed her steps when her gaze collided with a guy in his mid-thirties looking right at her and Luis. “Um, I think someone’s calling you back there.”

  “Ignore it,” Luis said, his voice a low growl.

  “Did he say, ‘Saint Navarro’?”

/>   Luis nodded. His scowl told her he wasn’t a fan of the nickname.

  Sara bit back a smile. The moniker actually seemed to fit him almost as well as the one she’d given him already.

  “Santo, don’t be like that! Come here!” the man yelled again.

  Muttering a curse, Luis stopped in the middle of the crowd. Several people bumped into them from behind, but like a huge boulder parting a running brook, he remained immovable, forcing others to step around him.

  Slowly turning, Luis’s chin jutted a greeting at the guy who stood several booths away. Geometric-shaped pieces of wood with painted tropical scenes decorated the sides and counter of his stall. He was dressed in the typical Key West attire of comfy shorts and a tee, and the guy’s darkly tanned skin and curly black hair were a foil for the slash of white teeth at his huge grin.

  The vendor raised an arm in the air to wave them over.

  Luis cut a sharp look at Sara, then shook his head.

  Undeterred, the man motioned again, this time with more gusto.

  “Coño,” Luis muttered, angling himself to block Sara from the other guy’s view.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, catching Luis’s pinched expression in the waning sunlight.

  “Freddie grew up around the corner from us in Big Coppitt. Graduated with my older brother, Carlos.”

  Sara immediately ducked down like that would help her hide from Luis’s friend. “Damn” was right. The last thing she wanted was to make things more difficult for Luis by running into someone close to his family. It’d only compound the lie fest she had initiated.

  “I can’t blow him off or I’ll risk hearing about it later.” Luis’s pained expression intensified. “Our moms attend weekday mass together every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

  “Omigosh, you should go!” Sara splayed her hands on his chest to give him a little push. Fat lot of good it did. The man was like a brick wall. “Go! I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, go!” she assured him. Seeing him with a family friend would be a vivid reminder that he belonged here. While her stay was only temporary. “I’ll poke around, see if there’s anything I might want to buy, while you chat.”

  “This should only take a few minutes. I don’t want you to miss your first sunset.”

  Sara shooed him off, then ducked her head for cover as she moseyed over to the booth next to Luis’s friend’s. Once there, she picked up a shell necklace, pretending to read the tiny price tag. Her gaze flicked back to Luis nearby.

  He clasped hands with Freddie, both men leaning in for a one-armed hug that was more like a thump on the back. Luis dwarfed his friend by at least thirty pounds and several inches, vertically and horizontally. Sara heard Freddie slip into Spanish, either for privacy or out of habit. Probably a little of both.

  Luis shrugged off a question about who he was with, turning the tables by asking Freddie about his mom. All the while, Luis’s posture remained stiff, hands deep in his front jeans pocket. The relaxed, yet guarded, calm she’d come to expect from him had vanished like the day’s heat.

  Behind Freddie’s booth, another man stepped out of the shadows cast by a stately palm tree and the streetlight above it. He moved toward the tiny walkway separating the two booths, his black tee and jeans easily camouflaging him in the dark. The humid breeze fluttered the palm fronds and the shadows undulated, the yellow streetlight illuminating the man’s face.

  Sara started. A younger, slimmer, but equally as tall version of Luis stared back at her. His dark eyes peered at her with interest, assessing. He shared the same angular jaw, straight nose, and olive-toned skin. Yet his loose-hipped walk and confident, definitely cocky smirk gave him a kiss-my-ass swagger that reminded her of the type of men her girlfriends complained about scrolling through on those dating apps she was reluctant to try—the players.

  His smirk broadened when Luis took a step in their direction.

  “Hey, it’s almost like a family reunion with two Navarros swinging by tonight!” Freddie crowed.

  Neither Navarro brother looked as thrilled by the situation as their friend. If anything, based on the tic of his jaw muscle and the thundercloud frown creasing his forehead, Sara’d guess Luis was inwardly freaking out about having to introduce her to a member of his family.

  “¿Oye, Enrique, me traíste mas pedazos pa’ vender?” Freddie asked.

  Even if their friend hadn’t mentioned his name, based on the question of whether or not Luis’s brother had brought more pieces of art to sell, Sara would have guessed this was Enrique. One of the few bits of information Luis had shared about his younger brother was that he’d gone to art school before joining the city’s fire department. Now Enrique made a little money on the side selling his artwork through a few local spots.

  Besides, based on what she had gathered earlier today, if this had been Carlos she was fairly certain the handshake, back-thumping greeting would have been exchanged between the two brothers. Not the tight-jawed head dip Luis gave his younger sibling now.

  What Luis hadn’t mentioned was the friction between them that practically zapped everyone in a five-foot radius of the brothers’ unplanned gathering.

  Not wanting to add more tension to the situation, Sara edged away. Unfortunately, an older couple sidled up to the shell jewelry booth at the same time, inadvertently sandwiching her between them and Enrique.

  “I sat a box of those heart-shaped pieces with beach scenes you asked me for on your lawn chair,” Enrique answered Freddie’s question, his curious gaze sliding from Sara to Luis.

  “Sweet! Lemme check ’em out.” Their friend scampered back behind his booth leaving Enrique and Luis facing off, with Sara wishing she could melt into the group of shoppers nearby.

  “Didn’t expect to run into you here. This isn’t your typical scene,” Enrique said.

  “Just enjoying the nice weather before summer temperatures descend,” Luis answered.

  “’Cuz all of a sudden the downtown crowds beat the privacy of the sunset view from your boat?”

  Tension vibrated off Luis as he folded his arms across his chest, his fists clenched. The universally understood defensive, back-off pose. Sara cursed herself for following him over here and putting him in this predicament in the first place.

  “I see you’re still trivializing your talent rather than capitalizing on it with a real showing,” Luis shot back.

  “Maybe I’ll reconsider my choices when you start doing the same.”

  Whatever Enrique’s jab meant, it must have hit home. Luis’s nostrils flared on a deep breath. His chest rose and fell, his mouth thinning as if he fought to hold back a retort.

  Feeling like an interloper, despite the crowded pier, Sara edged closer to the older couple next to her. Thankfully, they moved on, making room for her to follow suit.

  “And this is . . . ?” Enrique turned to ensnare her with his question.

  Shocked, Sara’s gaze flew to Luis’s.

  In the shadows of the waning sunlight, she caught his indecision. He hadn’t wanted his family involved with their deception.

  Guilt climbed her throat to choke her, and she prayed he read the apology in her eyes.

  Earlier today, Luis had carried the conversational ball like a Super Bowl champ. Chiming in when she’d clammed up in the backyard. Time for Sara to do the same for him.

  Whipping out her best camera-ready smile and video blog upbeat attitude, she stuck out her hand toward Enrique. “Hi, I’m Sara. A friend of Luis’s.”

  “A friend?” Enrique’s large hand engulfed hers, innuendo and disbelief dripping from his words.

  Funny, despite his sexy, bad-boy vibe, lanky athletic frame, and heavy-lidded bedroom eyes, she didn’t get the same tingling sensation of attraction as when Luis simply looked her way.

  “Yep,” she answered, gamely stepping into her role. “I’m in town playing tourist with my family. They’re scattered about this marvelously eclectic celebration. You have som
e beautiful pieces for sale over there.”

  She gestured toward their friend’s booth behind them, all the while reminding herself of Luis’s advice.

  Stick with the truth. Change the direction of the conversation toward someone else.

  Now she added another trick: Get the hell out of the situation ASAP.

  “Pick one you like. It’s on me.”

  Enrique flashed a suave, come-hither smile Sara imagined had worked on many a charmed individual. Not her. Not when smoldering tough guy with a soft heart stood behind door number two.

  “Thanks. It’s my first night here, so I’m waiting to take everything in before I decide what I absolutely can’t leave without. I’m limited to my carry-on bag. I appreciate the offer, though.”

  “No problem. If you’ve got my saintly brother showing you the sights and making sure you’re taken care of while you’re here, you’ll be set. Right or wrong, he’s helpful that way.”

  Again with the dig she didn’t quite understand. Enrique’s cryptic words had Luis straightening his spine. His scowl grew more fierce.

  “Oye, play nice over there. Don’t you two go squaring off and frightening the paying customers away,” Freddie ordered from behind his booth.

  For several tense seconds, the brothers held a grim-faced staring contest.

  Then, with a muttered, “Whatever,” Enrique spun around. “Hold on to my cut of the sales, Freddie. I’ll settle up with you on Sunday.”

  Without a good-bye for his brother or Sara, Enrique strode off toward the shadowy parking lot.

  Luis remained where he stood. Shoulders straight. Jaw muscle tight. Anger emanated off him, and yet Sara sensed an aura of sadness lingering in the humid air.

  The need to reassure him, as he’d done for her when Robin had pounced earlier, guided Sara closer to gently caress his back. He stared in the direction his brother had disappeared, lost in whatever memory or thoughts Enrique had stirred up.

  Sara remained at Luis’s side, her palm warming as she rubbed soothing circles along his lower back and higher. His shoulders slowly relaxed, releasing their tension.