Chapter 14
CARLO
I can tell Tania is a little nervous as we head up my parents’ sidewalk, but her head is on a swivel as she curiously takes in all of the details of the house.
She looks so completely breathtaking in a silky royal blue v-neck top and flared black jeans, with her hair flowing in loose waves, that I almost trip on the path from not taking my eyes off of her.
Real smooth of me. My mom loves gardening and the front looks so well kept.
It’s all muted creams and greenery against the white house, with big splashes of bold indigo on the house for the door and shutters.
The porch wraps around the front and has two blue adirondack chairs on it, with a mosaic bistro table in between.
My hand is on the small of her back in reassurance as I lead her in the front door, calling out my usual dumb joke about their favorite son arriving.
Tania shakes her head in amusement but doesn’t have time to tease me about it.
My mom is practically running from the kitchen to meet us, but it’s not me she goes to first.
“Well, I see who your favorite is now,” I drawl as I give her an extra squeeze.
“Pssh, of course she’s my favorite, she’s the only one here who hasn’t ever given me grief,” she fires back. Tania huffs a laugh. My mom grabs her hand and starts leading her toward the kitchen.
“We’re all working on the pupusas, my daughters will show you how to form them! Have you ever had them before?”
“I love pupusas, I’ve had them a few times.
I’m excited to learn how to make them,” Tania tells her a little shyly.
She’s smiling though, and my mom beams up at her as she pats her hand.
I follow like a smitten puppy, trying and failing to not notice the completely enticing way Tania’s full hips sway as she walks in her tight jeans in front of me.
When those gorgeous loose waves move as she walks, I get hit with that jasmine and white tea scent that I love so much.
I hear my sisters long before we get into the kitchen, they’re chatting in Spanish and no doubt dancing around to the cumbia music playing while they stuff the dough my mom made with the slow cooked pork, refried beans, and cotija cheese filling.
Behind me, I hear the door open, and the familiar voice of Taran talking to Lyra.
I tug on Tania’s other hand to bring her back to me, murmuring that I’ll introduce her to the newcomers before she’s thrown to the wolves with my sisters.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” Lyra tells her with a smile as she hugs her, her purple curls bouncing around her. I’ve loved seeing how comfortable Lyra has become here, it’s like I have another sister. Taran is smiling hugely as he takes in Tania, and gives her a hug when Lyra is finished.
“Come on, let’s get in there before there aren’t any more pupusas to make,” Lyra tells Tania, linking their arms and heading into the loud kitchen. She looks back at Taran for a beat though with a devilish smirk.
“Take your time sweetie, we don’t want any more almost fires,” she says with a cheeky wink. Tania looks at me with pure bemusement on her face.
“It was one time, and don’t think I won’t be paying you back later for bringing that up,” he says quietly with a dark promise in his voice.
Her eyes spark as she lets out a giggle while wiggling her fingers at him, showing off her gorgeous engagement ring, before pulling Tania into the kitchen with her.
Jesus, she and Taran would make me sick if I wasn’t so damn happy for them.
I hang back with my best friend for a minute.
“Lyra is going to love her, I can already tell. She normally is not that comfortable with new people,” he says in a low voice.
I’ve texted with him about what’s been going on, so he knows that maybe there will be some double dates in the future.
His exact words were, “It’s about time you stopped third wheeling,” like any good best friend would say.
He could not look happier about the possibility, since he sees how well Lyra already has taken to Tania in two seconds.
They’re actually kindred spirits when I think about it.
Both of the women had tough childhoods and don’t trust people easily at all, which they probably recognize right away in each other.
I look toward the kitchen where these beguiling women of ours went. “Oh yeah, they’re going to be plotting against us in no time.” He chuckles.
“Bring it on. How has it been?” I can’t help my dopey grin.
We’ve been sharing my bed still every night, making out, but keeping it to that for now.
There’s no rush. After over a year of wanting her, taking it slow and learning her mind while also learning every inch of her body will be the biggest, best reward.
“It’s been fantastic, man. I love living with her and those furballs so much.”
“You look how I probably looked last year,” he teases with his own big smile.
“I don’t doubt it. We’ll see where things go, but I’m enjoying the hell out of every second so far.” He nods.
“We better get in there to help before your mom starts yelling for us.”
When I walk in, I have to stop and stare at the scene I’m witnessing.
Rosa is grooving around with Tania while she shows her how to pinch the dough together perfectly around the filling, before flattening it out a little into what is basically a stuffed pancake.
Tania is so freaking adorably absorbed in her task, her brow knitted, front teeth grazing her luscious bottom lip.
She winces when the one she was working on falls apart a little, but Rosa shows her how to fix it.
While Tania is concentrating on getting it right, Rosa looks at me and gives me a subtle nod and wink.
My sister likes her, thank fuck. I don’t know how I would handle my family not liking the woman of my dreams.
“Carlo, stop staring at your stunning roommate and get going on the salsa roja,” my mom playfully chides.
Tania looks up at that and gives me a smug smirk before turning her attention back to her work.
I get the salsa roja started while Taran begins chopping everything for the curtido.
I keep an eye on Tania, but it looks like she’s having fun and getting the hang of forming the pupusas.
My sisters and sisters of the heart are all chatting with her, and she’s speaking back to them in really good Spanish mixed with English for Lyra.
Once I blend all of the ingredients for the sauce, I get it onto the stove to simmer for just a few minutes to bring out the flavor.
Taran gets the curtido in the refrigerator to sit for a while, and the ladies are still hard at work forming the pupusas.
So we head over to help them. I gently bump Tania’s hip so she’ll make room for me next to her.
“Look at you becoming a pupusa making expert,” I murmur near her ear as I watch her now deftly take a flat piece of dough, pinch it around the perfect amount of filling, and seal it up. She smiles but keeps her eyes on what she’s doing.
“This is so soothing, I haven’t made many things with dough before, except maybe chocolate chip cookies.”
“Um, why have I not been a recipient of these chocolate chip cookies yet?”
“Because you’re sweet enough already, Carlo,” she deadpans, giving a pat to my chest with her masa coated hand.
My sisters crack up, and I surreptitiously pinch her side underneath her shirt, making her yelp in surprise before smearing a little more masa on my nose.
This is doing nothing to help keep me from getting lost in thoughts of what touching her skin and kissing her is like, I’m dying to do it again.
Luce quickly gets tired of our antics and tells us to finish making the pupusas so we can cook them and finally eat.
With one more pinch to Tania’s side, I grab a paper towel to clean the masa off my face and t-shirt.
I am so getting her back for this mess when she least expects it.
My dad starts griddling what we’ve made while we all finish the remaining dough and filling.
I love what a family production the whole process is.
While we’re working Lyra and Daniella get into some playful shit talk about playing poker later, Tania is chatting with my three sisters, and my mom is supervising my dad’s cooking while starting to clean up a little.
Taran and I help clean up our mess from making the toppings.
It doesn’t take long for them to cook on the griddle, so my dad is soon filling two platters stacked to the brim with pupusas.
There’s always so much that my parents freeze a bunch for themselves and send us all home with leftovers.
They’re somehow even more perfect the next day.
We troop into the dining room carrying the platters, drinks, and toppings.
Tania looks happy, if maybe slightly overwhelmed.
I pull her into my side with my free arm and lean down to check in with her.
“Doing ok?” I whisper in her ear, really hoping she’s not scared off.