24. Selena
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Selena
He was early.
Of course he was early. I was still upstairs in a towel when Lupe knocked on my door like she was trying to break it down.
“Your friend is here.”
The way she said friend had about six syllables in it.
“Tell him to wait.”
“I already gave him food.”
I dropped my head against the closet door.
“I like him,” Lupe said.
“You’ve known him for four minutes.”
“Three. And I like him.”
I pulled on my dress, a yellow floral one, which I’d told myself I was wearing because it was comfortable and not because it showed off my shoulders.
My charged-up magic and Lupe’s cooking had turned his bite into just a shadow in a few hours, but I knew he could still see it.
I wanted to see his eyes go dark when he did.
I did a quick version of my hair before going downstairs, lingering in the stairway.
I peeked around the corner.
Chase was at the kitchen counter.
He’d taken the stool at the end, the one that faced the stove, and he was leaning forward with his forearms on the counter, shoveling food into his face.
He wore a dark linen shirt that offset his bleached blonde hair, his neck tattoos peeking out above the collar.
His sleeves were pushed up, revealing his tan, veined forearms. He looked absolutely stunning.
Lupe was at the stove with her back to me, talking about a mile a minute.
“—this is my version. I added the dried ancho because my abuela always said the smoke should be in the ingredient—”
“Not added after.” Chase nodded. “That’s exactly it. I couldn’t figure out what made it special, but that’s it.”
Lupe turned around, wiping her cheeks, trying to hide her blush. At least it wasn’t just me he had that effect on.
“Well, I don’t know about special…”
“Well, I do, and this is absolutely amazing.”
I stayed in the doorway. Neither of them had noticed me yet, and I wasn’t about to interrupt whatever this was—Lupe glowing, Chase leaning forward like there was nowhere he’d rather be than in this small kitchen being educated on mole technique.
I watched my cousin’s whole body loosen, degree by degree, the tight set of her shoulders dropping.
Her healing had never been very effective on herself, so seeing her relax filled my heart with joy.
And Chase—he wasn’t putting on a show.
He didn’t want credit for it. He’d walked into my kitchen, eaten my cousin’s food, understood everything that mattered about her in three minutes flat, and he didn’t want anything for it aside from Lupe’s smile.
Footsteps in the hall.
Antonio barged into the kitchen. He was a big man, broad, and had been handsome before he’d stopped working and now stayed inside all day with my cousin’s cooking. His eyes went to Lupe, then to Chase, and stayed there, narrowing.
“Who’s this?” he asked.
“Chase,” Chase said easily before anyone else could answer. He didn’t stand. Didn’t offer his hand. Just turned on the stool and appraised Antonio with his cockiness turned all the way back up. “You’re Antonio.”
Antonio’s jaw shifted.
“How do you know my name?”
“Lupe mentioned you.” Chase turned back to his plate. “She’s an incredible cook. You’re a lucky guy.”
Antonio crossed to the refrigerator. Pulled out a beer without offering one to anyone. Leaned against the counter and glanced at Chase with poorly veiled annoyance.
“You’re here for the RipTide thing.”
“Something like that.”
“Big deal, that.” He gestured vaguely with the beer. “You’ve traveled all over the world. I’m sure you’ve had better food.”
Lupe’s hands went still on the spoon.
I saw it.
Chase saw it.
“My girl is talented,” Antonio continued, nodding at Lupe, and there it was—the tone, to show he really wasn’t a bad guy, of course not. “But she’s just a home cook. She’s never even really traveled.”
“I’ve eaten at the best Michelin-star restaurants.” Chase took another bite, and to someone who didn’t know him, it might have looked casual. “I’ve had mole from the best places in LA, Tucson, even Mexico City. I’m not exaggerating when I say this is the best I’ve had in years.”
Lupe made a small sound.
“The ancho, the spice mix, the care taken with the meat—that’s a serious skill.” He set his fork down and looked at Antonio pleasantly. “She makes this for you.”
“Yeah.” Antonio shifted his weight.
“Every day?”
“I mean—”
“Hm.” Chase nodded slowly, glancing back at the pot. Beneath his smiling veneer, I saw the predator stirring, much like how a riptide could hide beneath a calm ocean. I half expected his dorsal fin to pop out. “And you’ve never once taken her on a trip to experience all this ‘great’ food.”
The kitchen fell completely silent.
Antonio looked at Lupe.
Lupe was staring at her mole.
“Money isn’t exactly flowing right now—” Antonio stammered.
“Those sneakers you’re wearing aren’t cheap. It’s about priorities, my guy. And if you don’t get them straight soon, someone else most certainly will.”
I was still in the doorway, barely breathing. Antonio had turned beet red, but he wouldn’t say anything. He never did.
I stepped out from around the corner.
“Selena.” Chase peered over his shoulder at me, beaming. “Ready?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
He said goodbye to Lupe with his full attention, then walked past Antonio, clapping him on the shoulder a little harder than necessary.
“Priorities, my guy.”
He grabbed my hand without hesitation, and we walked out into the evening air.
We headed toward the beach, and I let half a block go by before I said anything.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Do what?” he asked, all innocence.
I looked at him. He looked back, easy, the warm evening light highlighting the sharp angle of his jaw.
“Chase.”
“I was just talking about food.”
“Chase.”
He shrugged, rolling his shoulders. “Some people are stupid. They don’t appreciate what’s right in front of them. It’s obvious your cousin deserves better than that asshole.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “You’ve probably told her the same thing.”
I had. Maybe a million times.
He nodded as the sidewalk beneath our feet changed to beachside boards. “Sometimes an outside voice can help.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t really know what else to say, so I twirled my hair around my finger. “Not just for the Antonio thing, but…I haven’t seen Lupe smile like that in a long time.”
“Wish I could get you to smile like that.” He said it so casually, as if it hadn’t just made my heart lurch, turning slightly so he was facing me. The corner of his mouth lifted. “You look gorgeous, by the way.”
“Back to the bad lines, Tibby.”
He laughed, the sound carrying out over the dark water ahead of us. “Just telling you the truth, baby.”
The ocean breeze whipped my hair around, and it stuck to my lips.
He reached forward, pushing the strands out of my face and over my shoulder.
His gaze locked on the faint bruise, going black for a few heartbeats just like I’d imagined, and then my magic jumped between us as it rose to the surface, just as hungry as he was.
“So, how are we getting to this party?” I asked, breaking the moment.
“You know how to swim, right?” He waggled his eyebrows.
“You’ve got to be—oh—”
He was laughing again, tugging me down the dock, the boards clunking under our feet. “Always so serious. No, Tanner got us a hookup.”
“Is that supposed to make me less nervous?”
He laughed once more, and it drifted off into the warm evening wind that came off the water smelling like salt. He had never let go of my hand; our fingers were still laced together, his thumb tracing slow circles over my knuckles.
“Don’t you trust me, Torres?”
“About as far as I can throw you.”
“You’re pretty strong, so I’ll take that as a yes.”
We reached the end of the dock, where the water slapped restlessly against the pilings and two Jet Skis bobbed in the chop.
Tanner stood on one, waving frantically with both arms like he was flagging down a plane.
Another man with dark, curly hair was hunched over the other, working a knot loose, the rope creaking as the current pulled the craft away from the dock.
“That’s Diego. He’s another surfer and a—”
“Dolphin shifter!” Tanner chimed in. “You know, I really like this town. It’s nice being able to just say it aloud.”
Diego stood and extended a hand to me.
“Saint Diego?” I asked, shaking it.
“One and the same.” He glanced between Chase and me. “I only got two,” Diego said, his face unreadable.
“That’s okay. I’ll ride with Tanner.” I shot a grin at Chase.
“Amphitrite’s tits you will.” Chase locked his fingers around mine and tugged me behind him as he swung a leg over the freed Jet Ski, the whole thing dipping under his weight. He planted a hand on the seat and pulled me down after him.
“See you there, mammals.” He saluted Tanner and Diego.
The engine snarled to life beneath us, kicking a plume of spray off the back, and I barely had time to lock my arms around his waist and press my cheek to the warm muscle of his back before he gunned it, and the dock lights smeared into streaks behind us.