Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
H is daughter’s feet pattered down the steps with a rhythmic tap-tap that echoed along with Diego Ferrera’s heartbeat.
He stared at Kash's closed door like a pathetic fool, wishing he was on the other side. Restless energy thrummed through him, as if adrenaline had been shot straight into his veins.
The sound of sniffling made his body bow toward the door, as if the woman behind it held the string to it. His chest ached at the idea of Kash crying.
No, she wouldn’t do something as… normal and reasonable and human as crying, would she?
Dr. Kashmira Shah was a paragon of strength and ambition, a stickler for always doing the right thing, a woman who not only took her responsibilities seriously but made it look effortless.
And yet, there was clearly a crack beneath the perfection.
He had no doubt as to what Tia, and he, had interrupted moments earlier.
It had been written all over her—her flushed skin, little dots of sweat over her upper lip, the rigid line of her shoulders, the way her breath hitched like she’d been sprinting. For an unbelievably crazy moment, he’d wanted to climb into the bed to relieve her obvious frustration, get her over the edge and into free fall.
To see the tight reins of Kash’s control snap would be a reward in itself.
There had been something so fragile in the cut of her face as she’d smiled at Tia and tried not to look at him. Something in her expression that made him want to both hold her and fuck the tension out of her.
Cursing inwardly, he scrubbed a hand down his jaw. Today had cemented beyond doubt that he was into her, that it wasn’t simple lust either. Just when he was finding his way in his own life again.
Nearly four years after the injury that shattered his ankle, he was building a life without soccer. Making Tia a priority in his life and getting his soccer academy off the ground. Kash and he had, finally, struck a balance in giving Tia a stable, conflict-free foundation.
Panting over his daughter’s aunt, who was a decade older than him, who tolerated him only for the kid’s sake, was the last thing he needed.
* * *
In the large, airy kitchen, he washed his hands at the sink and decided to make dinner. That way, Kash—who couldn’t boil eggs if her life depended on it—wouldn’t have to figure it out later.
He found a bag of rigatoni in the pantry and frozen homemade marinara in the freezer. Neatly labeled with date and portion size by Kash’s mother Neena, no doubt. He set a large pot of water to boil on the stove and started chopping fresh basil, cilantro, and garlic. Another smaller pot of water went on the stove for chai. Once it started boiling, he grated ginger into the water and tossed in a couple of cardamom pods.
Tia grabbed apples, nuts, and cheese from the fridge, washed the apples, grabbed the apple slicer, and then neatly arranged them onto three different plates.
Diego smiled when she added a few Cheetos to each plate, stared at the portions, nodded to herself, and put everything away. Then she brought her snack plate to the dining table, grabbed a graphic novel, and buried her face in it.
It filled him with a strange ache to see how much his daughter mimicked her aunt. As if her world would be right if only she was just like her. He fought the foolish urge to snap a pic of Tia and her snack plate just to share it with Kash.
Against all odds, they’d found their own rhythm in co-parenting, but it didn’t mean Kash wanted to share the ups and downs with him.
When the doorbell rang, he opened the door. His cousin Muriel stood there, a folder tucked under her arm and an arched brow aimed at him.
Tall and built like a boxer, his cousin hid a finance-savvy brain behind her easygoing facade. Luckily for him, she used that brain to manage his finances, his business ventures, and unluckily, his personal life too.
“You’re impossible to pin down,” she said, brushing past him. “I went to your parents’ house, the birthday party, then drove across town to get back here.”
“Tia insisted on coming back to check on Kash,” he said softly, following her back into the kitchen.
Muriel watched as Tia settled into the cozy armchair in the living room with her graphic novel. “Everything okay?”
“Once she saw her aunt, yes.”
Nodding, Muriel threw a couple of files onto the gleaming quartz island, casually eying the pots on the stove. “Figured if I didn’t drop this off, you’d dodge my calls another week. Is it the spring ‘Date with a Bachelor’ auction that terrifies you so?”
“I’m not dodging you,” he said, flipping through the files, pretending like she hadn’t pinned him down perfectly.
When he had been a scrawny middle-schooler with failing grades, the idea of being a soccer star with scores of fans had appealed to him immensely. And he had enjoyed the super-stardom that had come during his peak years.
But now, with his career behind him, he felt like an imposter when people recognized him, asked him for an autograph, or worse, requested him to take part in a public event.
Like the bachelor auction. Months ago, Muriel had convinced him that it would garner free publicity for the soccer academy.
Now, the idea of having dinner with some faceless woman made him want to curl up inward. Which was truly messed up. He was thirty-one, not sixty-five. Even that didn’t stop him from casually asking, “Is there any way for me to back out?”
“No. You need to get out there, D.” Her nose scrunched. “You’re in a rut.”
“I’m not in a rut. I’m still recovering from all the curveballs life’s thrown at me, okay?”
His cousin’s sigh was voluble. “Millionaire many times over, and here you are, playing the domestic deadbeat dad.”
He continued chopping the garlic. “I’m making dinner for my daughter. And her aunt.”
Muriel leaned in, voice dropping a notch, eyes flicking toward Tia. “Does Kash even know that you could buy the block twice over?”
He brought the pasta to the sink and drained it. “Not exactly something I want out there. And she,” he said, pointing to the stairs, “is the last person who would change her stance toward me because I had the smarts to trust you to make me a millionaire.”
Sometimes, it did amaze him that he had that kind of financial security. While his own father had died when he’d been twelve of a sudden heart attack—without ever having seen Diego make something of himself—he had left Diego and his mother secure. Now, with Mama refusing to let him buy her a new house or upgrade her car, being a millionaire wasn’t a big deal.
“You have to tell Kash you are no broke-ass bum, Diego.” Muriel had apparently decided she’d be relentless today. “At least to bring up the custody stuff and the financial assistance you want to offer.”
Diego nearly burned his hand when he threw the pasta into the simmering sauce too fast. “I’m working on it.”
She gave him an arch look that had been a staple when he and Kaif, Kash’s younger brother, got into trouble. “You’ve been working on it for a year, D. She’ll probably throw the offer back in your face, but this is important, right?”
“Don’t,” he bit out, before he could stop himself.
She gave the pasta pot a quick stir while he chopped cilantro. “Don’t what?”
The knife fell to the counter with a clatter. “Don’t talk about her like that. It’s one thing for Mama to say things about Kash not letting Tia stay overnight with her, but I won’t stand it from you.”
Muriel snorted, completely unruffled by his outburst. “Does she know what a champion she has in you?” A long exhale made her shoulders droop. “I’m not being disrespectful to her, D. We’ve all heard legendary stories from our mamas as to how hard she’s worked to hold this family together. I just…” she clasped his hand and pushed it under cold water. “You’ve been rearranging your whole life around Tia. And Kash still looks at you like you’re about to fumble the ball.”
His jaw flexed. “Can you honestly blame her?”
After a tense second, Muriel shook her head. Her gaze flicked to Tia again before settling on him. “Let’s not forget it’s also because you won’t tell her what a cheating liar Katrina was. Just because she’s dead doesn’t mean we turn her into a saint, D. That’s only for Tia—not us.”
His chest tightened, the past rising like smoke.
At twenty-one, he’d refused to believe Katrina’s claim that she was pregnant with his child. Told her he wanted nothing to do with her or the baby. He had even called Kash and threatened to get a restraining order if Katrina didn’t leave him alone.
Weeks before, he’d walked into his own apartment to find Kat writhing under his teammate, neither of them noticing him. And it hadn’t been a one-time thing either. Months of betrayal, sharp and ugly, had changed his outlook towards her.
Then, a few months later, his mother had taken one look at infant Tia and tore a strip off him.
Diego had swallowed his pride, his anger at her betrayal, and begged Katrina to let him in. And she had. But Kash had never softened.
He kept his voice even. “It wouldn’t change anything.”
“We all know Kat let you back in only because you were a rich baby daddy she could exploit to her heart’s content.”
Diego gave a short, humorless laugh. He wiped his hand on a towel, flipped open the files and scrawled his signature, avoiding her gaze.
Muriel studied him for a long beat. “Don’t you think it’s been long enough that Kash needs to know the truth now?”
He shook off the heaviness and handed Muriel the folder. “She’s barely recovered,” he said quietly. “Can you imagine losing your husband and your sister, and still showing up every day, running a hospital department, raising your niece? Kash hasn’t left that day behind, Muriel. I’m worried about her.”
Muriel's eyes gentled. “She won’t welcome your worry, D.”
He nodded, adjusting the heat. “Doesn’t mean I’ll stop.”
Before grabbing the folder, she gave him a lingering look. “And when will you admit that her lack of approval is nearly killing you?”
Diego stiffened. Jesus, were his feelings for Kash that transparent? “You’re talking nonsense.”
“Lie to me all you want. But you and I both know that it’s more than just a rut, D.”
She shifted her feet, glancing at Tia, then back at him. “By the way, Kaif called me last night.”
Diego arched a brow. “Oh yeah? I never understood why Kaif and you have to keep it on the down low.”
Cheeks flushed, Muriel shrugged. “Honestly, he didn’t think I would wait for him or that it would work between us. The fool man had this notion that he has to help his big sister before he can prioritize his own happiness.”
“Did Kash accept his help?” Diego asked, beyond curious.
“She made him invest in a retirement fund for their mom and a college fund for Tia.” She sighed audibly. “As if I would stop him from helping Kash.”
Diego grinned. “Poor Kaif. Maybe he’s forgotten that you’re a tornado.”
Her smile turned sly. “Let’s just say there will be good news soon. You might ride that tailwind with Kash and get your stuff sorted too.”
He wanted to press her further, but he had enough to sort out without getting involved in their relationship. “Make it a grand wedding, cuz. That way, my mama and yours will be off my back for a couple of years.”
“Oh, you better believe it, D.” She squeezed his arm, kissed Tia goodbye, and let herself out.
At least, someone knew what they wanted in life and was getting it.
Thoughts in a swirl, Diego emptied the pasta into a glass serving bowl and started washing the dishes.
Would he and Kash always be at this polite impasse? When had his simple curiosity about her turned into this fascination?
Today, he’d been able to read her frustration as if she were an open book.
With each passing day, her exhaustion hung off her like a second skin, sharp edges honed by the weight of holding everything together.
How long before she snapped? Before the toll it took on her hurt her irrevocably?
The thought made something low and hot coil in his gut. She wouldn’t accept his understanding any more than she would accept his offer to get her off.
Her trip to Cancun, with Tia and her mother tagging along, was in a couple of weeks. If he joined them, he could spend some solid one-on-one time with Tia. And keep an eye on Kash too.
As foolish and arrogant as it sounded, he felt this overwhelming urge to protect her. Even from herself.