Chapter 5
Diego
Iwanted to text Mia all night—learn all her secrets, her dreams, the things that keep her up at night. But I knew she was tired, so instead of bombarding her with messages, I put my brain to better use: planning our date.
According to the wedding app, the guests are going snorkeling. Sounds like the perfect plan to spend some time under the sun, have a good lunch, and the excuse to pretend I’m part of a family gathering instead of a man completely smitten with his date.
Still, if we joined the wedding group, I’d never hear the end of it.
My brothers and niece would roast me alive if they saw me all cozy and giddy over a woman I just met.
I want to show Mia I’m serious before she meets my family—so when the inevitable questioning comes, she already knows where she stands with me.
The next morning, after showering and shaving, I pull on a pair of orange swim trunks and a white linen shirt. A quick tussle of my hair, sunglasses on, and keys in hand, I head out with a golf cart, ready to surprise Mia and her sister.
I make it to their bungalow in no time, the morning breeze filling my lungs with salty air. As much as I love being near the ocean, I’ve never felt this kind of anticipation before going snorkeling.
I glance at the golf cart, packed to the brim with pastries, fruit, a coffee thermos, and juice bottles. It’s not much of a spread, but I don’t want to overwhelm her. Besides, I have no clue what she eats for breakfast.
Shit. Panic flares in my chest as my brain takes off running.
What if she’s gluten intolerant? What if she doesn’t like fruit? What if she’s more of a tea person, not a coffee one?
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“What are you thinking so hard about over there?” A feminine voice snaps me out of my spiraling thoughts.
I turn toward the sound and spot the woman from yesterday’s chaos. She’s in running gear, curly hair styled in a messy bun, a towel slung around her neck. Sweat glistens on her sun-kissed skin as she wipes her face, a water bottle dangling from one hand. Mia’s sister.
“Oh, nothing,” I say with a chuckle. “I’m just second-guessing my breakfast options.” I nod toward the golf cart.
She waves me off as she heads for the bungalow. “Oh, don’t worry. My sister’s a good eater. I can already see a couple of things she’ll devour.”
“Come on,” she says. “I’m sure she’s dying to see you.”
She opens the door and calls out, “Mia, your fall guy’s here. He brought breakfast. I hope you’re ready!”
Her teasing tone eases some of my nerves, but the pounding in my chest has everything to do with the stunner I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.
I grab as much as I can from the cart and carry it inside. The bungalow’s one of our newer builds. Somehow the designer was able to achieve a fancy and cozy layout all in the same place.
On my second trip back, balancing coffee and juice, Mia sashays out of her room—and my jaw hits the floor.
The tiniest triangle of fabric struggles to cover her beautiful breasts, and her unbuttoned jean shorts tease a glimpse of her swimsuit underneath.
Fuck. Me.
“Good morning, Diego,” she says, her smile blinding.
I drag my gaze upward—eventually—and she’s even more beautiful in the daylight. Barefaced, glowing, a hint of shimmer on her cheeks. Her lips are glistening—same fruity lip gloss as last night, I’d bet—and her hair’s in two long braids over her shoulders.
The woman is a fucking walking fantasy.
“Good morning,” I manage, setting the last of the breakfast on the table before I do something stupid—like forget how to breathe.
“You look—” I start, closing the small distance between us as I reach for her hand. She threads her fingers through mine right away, and that simple touch grounds me. It tells me I’m not the only one feeling this pull between us.
“—stunning,” I finish, and her cheeks bloom the prettiest shade of pink.
She peeks up at me through her lashes, all innocent and sweet, and I’m a goner.
Pretty sure I’ve just found my purpose in life—to make Mia Martinez the happiest woman to ever exist.
“You look very handsome too,” she says, tugging me closer. I dip down for a kiss, keeping it gentle, mindful that her sister’s still around.
“Okay, lust-birds,” her sister calls out, voice full of mischief. “I’m starving. May I join you for breakfast—or do you two need some privacy?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I brought enough food for all of us, I hope.” I pull out a chair for Mia before sitting beside her.
“I think I owe you an apology,” I say, glancing at Mia’s sister.
She frowns lightly, but doesn’t look upset. “An apology? I don’t follow.”
“For all the distress you had to endure yesterday,” I admit. “That was on me. I’m truly sorry.” I pause, hoping she’ll offer her name, because I’m not entirely sure we were formally introduced.
She waves off my concern. “Please, that’s water under the bridge.” Her eyes flick briefly to Mia. “I’m just glad it wasn’t anything serious.” Then she tilts her head. “I don’t think we’ve officially met. Have we?”
“To be honest, I don’t remember,” I say, standing to extend my hand. “Diego Grosso.”
“Carly Martinez,” she replies, shaking it with a grin. “Mia’s older—and hotter—sister.”
Mia bursts out laughing, and I bite back the urge to protest. I don’t want to come on to Mia stronger than I already have.
“What matters,” Carly says, taking a bite out of her Danish, “is that out of all the distress you mentioned, you and my sister seem to have hit it off.”
I beam, grateful Carly seems so understanding. I had no desire to pull out the “business side” of me out—but I would’ve if it came to that.
When I glance at Mia, she’s locked in one of those sibling exchanges I’ve seen my brothers share a hundred times but never been part of. A pang of jealousy catches me off guard, and I busy myself with opening a juice bottle before my thoughts wander somewhere I don’t want them to.
Being fifteen years younger than my oldest brother created a gap so wide we never really bridged it.
To him, I’ve always been more of a kid than an equal.
Fernando and I are closer—ten years apart—but he’s constantly caught between pleasing Armando and making me feel included.
That’s why I’ve been pushing to carve my own space, to prove I can build something for the family without their shadow hanging over me.
When Mia looks back at me, she smiles softly and leans in for a kiss. I meet her halfway without hesitation.
“So, what are you guys up to today?” Carly asks, wrapping her hands around her mug.
“Well,” Mia starts before I can answer, “I told Diego I couldn’t leave you alone again.”
Carly waves her off. “And I said I’ll be perfectly fine. After you left for dinner last night, I did my usual doom-scrolling and found out there’s an animal clinic visiting town this week. They still need volunteers.” Her eyes light up.
“Really, Carly? I thought we were going to rest this holiday—slow down, get some vitamin sea,” Mia says, gesturing toward the ocean like it’s backing her up. Her tone is gentle but firm.
Carly raises a brow, though her defiance doesn't last long.
“I know, I know. But you know me—I can’t sit still. I can’t fathom the thought of animals needing help and not doing something.”
Mia inhales and tips her head, defeated.
“Besides,” Carly adds with a grin, “it’s not like I’ll be stuck in a horse barn, freezing my ass off.” She claps a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, Diego. I’m usually more civilized after my second cup of coffee.”
I chuckle. “No offense taken.”
“Anyway,” she continues, “I called this morning. I’ll volunteer half the day, then spend the afternoon by the pool. It’s all good, sissy. I promise.”
“I’ll make sure you have a personal assistant for the day,” I offer. “They can take you wherever you need to go and make sure you have whatever you want—food, drinks, the works.”
“Thank you,” they say in unison.
“It’s not a problem. I’m just glad I can make your stay a little more enjoyable.”
Mia smiles, pushing back her chair. “Well, in that case, let me grab my bag. I’m ready to go whenever you are.”
She disappears into her room, and the air shifts.
When I look back, Carly’s still sitting there—her warm, easy smile gone.
I’m not someone who intimidates easily, but the way Carly’s looking at me has my balls halfway up my throat.
“I think it’s really cute, everything you’re doing for Mia,” she says, twirling her fork and picking out every piece of honeydew from her fruit salad. Her tone is light—too light. If it weren’t for the daggers in her gaze, I’d think she actually wanted to be my friend.
“It’s been just the two of us since our parents passed a few years ago,” she adds casually, then leans back and pins me with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I made it my mission to take care of her, be the best sister I could. So don’t think for a second that all your money or power would stop me from castrating you—no anesthesia, very sharp scalpel—if you ever hurt Mia.
She’s sweet, innocent, kind, beautiful, and smart.
I sure hope you’re being sincere with her. ”
Carly’s threat shouldn’t get under my skin. I’ve handled tougher negotiations and more volatile tempers. But this—this isn’t a deal I can control. If I mess this up, I don't lose a client—I lose the first woman who’s made me want to slow down in years.
“Everything okay?” Mia asks, walking my way. She presses the back of her hand against my forehead. “You look pale. Are you sure you want to go out? Maybe it’s best if we stay in today.”
“Absolutely not,” Carly declares, standing with her arms crossed, daring me to disagree. “You two are going out and having fun.”
“I’m okay,” I assure Mia quickly. “I think I just need a bit more food in me. But we can grab something where we’re going.”
I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. She eyes me warily but relaxes when I press a kiss to her nose.
Carly heads toward her room, but not before dragging a finger across her throat—a silent promise of what’ll happen if I ever hurt her sister. I nod, message received.
Before closing the door, she calls out, “Enjoy kids—and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Mia rolls her eyes, a goofy grin tugging at her lips. But when she looks back up to me, her smile falters.
“Did she tell you something? I’m so sorry. Carly loves talking a big game, but she wouldn’t hurt a fly. I promise.”
A cackle erupts from her room, and Mia grabs my hand, hurrying us toward the door.
“She might’ve said a thing or two,” I admit, helping her into the golf cart. “But I’m sure it’s just older-sibling talk.”
As soon as we’re rolling and some distance stretches between us and Carly, my lungs finally remember how to work.
The sun is blazing, a few lazy clouds drifting overhead—it’s going to be a beautiful day for what I have planned.
“So where are we going?” Mia asks, bouncing in her seat, excitement radiating off her.
I glance her way—just for a second—and immediately regret it. Her bikini top strains against gravity, and my self-control takes a hit. I grip the wheel tighter. I want her—badly— but I also want her to know I meant it when I said more than that.
“We’re going snorkeling," I say, trying to focus on the road instead of the movement of her tits—or anything else currently testing my restraint.
Mia stops bouncing. Her fingers find her braids, tugging them lightly. When I glance again, she’s forcing a smile.
Shit. Did I pick the wrong activity? And here I thought breakfast would be the hard part.
There’s a flicker in her eyes—something shy, almost retreating.
“Hey,” I say softly, touching her knee, “we don’t have to. I just thought it’d be fun.”
She blinks, caught off guard by the gentleness in my tone, then exhales a laugh.
“You plan dates and bring breakfast? I can handle a little snorkeling,” she teases, though her voice wobbles just enough to make me want to pull her close.
I squeeze her knee—my thumb brushing over her skin—and leave it there. One hand on her thigh, the other steady on the wheel.
She hums—a low, content sound that feels like sunlight.
I grin, the knot in my chest loosening. Whatever happens today—whether she loves it or panics halfway through—I’ll be there, right beside her.
The cart curves toward the marina, the sea glittering ahead like it’s daring me to keep my promise.