Chapter 18 #2
“Good,” he said, leaning toward her, giving her plenty of time to protest if she wanted to avoid him. Instead, she closed the distance between them in an instant, surprising him with the voracity of her lips on his. He exhaled as she melted against him.
It felt…right.
But then Grace pulled away too soon, smiling. “It’s going to be hard to stay away from you when Alma’s here.”
“About that, where did we land on inviting Obinna over and forcing them to make up immediately?”
“I think they both need a little more time to figure it out.”
Rafael pressed his lips to Grace’s neck. “Well, for my sake, let’s hope that happens soon.”
Grace shook her head. “For your sake?”
“I don’t know how long you think I’ll be able to stay away from you, Graciela, but I feel like I’m already at my limit.”
Grace leaned into his touch, her breath heavy. “I know what you mean, but Alma...”
“I know,” Rafael nodded against Grace’s shoulder. “I know. I am worried about her. I’ve never seen her like this in our entire lives. I’m not sure how to help her, but she needs us. This morning was a good start. You got her laughing at least.”
Grace put her hands in her lap. “The champagne got her laughing, but it’s something.”
“I know it will all work out for her,” he said, his voice full of conviction.
“But she needs us to help her through it. After she would have a fight with our mother, we would always hide in the linen closet and eat popsicles together, complaining about everything and throwing the hand towels on the floor with our sticky fingers. She just needed someone there with her, someone to be on her side no matter what.”
Grace leaned back and searched his face, as if assessing him with fresh eyes.
“What?” he asked.
She smiled. “I’m just imagining you as a child wreaking havoc on the laundry.”
Rafael grinned back at her. “Then I have quite a number of stories you will enjoy.”
It was a short moment, but Rafael felt it sustained him. Everything was so easy and comfortable between them, if only for a moment. Alma awoke from her nap soon after, and Raf was forced to keep his distance once again, but that teasing look Grace had given him, that kiss, it had been enough
Hours later, Alma was sprawled across the sofa, her long legs hanging over Grace’s lap.
Rafael never imagined he’d be so jealous of his own sister, who’d been casually touching and cuddling Grace all evening—grabbing her hand, leaning her head on her shoulder—while he’d kept his distance, sitting across the room and trying to breathe, even though he wanted nothing more than to throw Grace over his shoulder and carry her away to his bedroom.
“So how are things going with your little museum?” Alma asked. “It seems like you’ve managed not to murder each other in the process of creating this whole exhibit.”
“It’s going well, I think,” Grace answered, likely realizing that Rafael was lost in thought. She probably just didn’t imagine how much he was thinking about her.
“Yes,” he jumped in. “Grace had some fantastic ideas. She was a great help, and now it’s really coming along. Christian’s going to have an opening party to see how it goes. And I hope you’ll both be there, of course.”
“We’re invited?” Grace asked, raising an eyebrow. “I assumed Christian would want that to be an exclusive billionaire party, too.”
Rafael smiled. “Grace, you are the reason this exhibit doesn’t completely suck. Seriously, I would have been fired from this job in a heartbeat. Of course you’re invited. And Christian loves you, anyway. He insisted you be there.”
“I would like to take credit for the whole idea of having Grace work with you in the first place,” Alma said, wiggling her toes over the armrest.
“The pieces are beautiful, Alma. You’ll be amazed.” She pinched one of Alma’s feet.
“Beautiful might not be the word I would use.” Rafael grinned, and Grace shot him a look.
“For a man of such sophistication, you know very little about art,” Grace said, annoyance flaring in her voice.
“You know Pablo’s just not my cup of tea.”
“But you know it’s not just Picasso, Raf. There’s a Matisse and several Blanchards and a Gilot. There’s a Braque, too.”
“I think you’re just making up names,” Alma said.
“And I’m supposed to appreciate weird faces and giant—” Rafael started.
Grace shook her head. “I know you’re just trying to play it cool for your sister right now, but you’re a newly minted art connoisseur. Don’t deny it.”
“I still can’t decide if I actually like any of that abstract stuff, though,” he said.
“Come on,” Alma broke in before Grace could berate him. “I wasn’t trying to start a war. I was just marveling that you hadn’t killed each other, remember?”
Rafael smiled. He loved when Grace was all riled up about art. It got him riled up, too…in a completely different way.
“Did Grace tell you about the party for her class?” He could tell that Grace was flustered, but he couldn’t stop himself from bringing it up, not when he was so pleased about how happy it made her.
“A party? At the museum?” Alma asked.
“Raf got Christian to agree to host my students there to see what we’ve been working on. Though I swear I hardly did anything.” She stared at Rafael with a shy smile.
He tried not to let the full force of his grin take over his face. “The place would be a mess without you. And Christian knows that.”
Grace turned back to Alma, the blush creeping up her face. “My students are thrilled. Raf and I are making up fancy little invitations and everything.”
“Sounds lovely,” Alma said. Then she glanced away wistfully, her eyes losing focus as she stared at the front door.
In the matter of a moment, she’d drifted away again, and Rafael was sure she was thinking of Obinna.
He always seemed to be at the forefront of Alma’s thoughts, one second from taking over and darkening her mood.
Rafael noticed that she kept checking her phone.
Kept…waiting. The operation to get his sister back with her boyfriend wasn’t going very well, though they hadn’t done much so far.
Once the unhappy couple had a chance to cool off and think it over, then, surely, he could get them to make up, and Alma would be back to her old self—the woman she’d been for as long as he could remember.
Carefree and calm, so sure of herself in every way, ready to take on their mother and take on the world.
Admittedly, Rafael had been annoyed at first when his sister had suddenly become obsessed with Obinna, when she started talking about him constantly.
But now Rafael thought he might be starting to understand it, and he wanted Alma to be able to hold onto that feeling.
He wanted her to get it all back—that joy—and once she was happy again, Rafael could return to the person that had been consuming his thoughts lately, the person that had started to keep him up at night.
He was lucky Alma was too distracted to notice when he caught himself staring at Grace again. She looked up, and their eyes met, and that was all it took for the corners of his mouth to tug upward. Grace shook her head slightly, scolding him for being so obvious, even though she was smiling.
Guau! That smile. It did things to him. One of them was highly inappropriate, and the other was incredibly wholesome. He wanted her so badly, in so many ways.
Alma let out a sigh, and Rafael tried to maneuver his face into a blank expression. “I can’t believe I have to work tomorrow,” she said. “How do people work at a time like this? You’re just supposed to wake up and go about your day like you aren’t completely cracking into pieces?”
“I think everyone has days like that,” Grace said, squeezing Alma’s leg, “where it’s hard to pretend.”
“Raf doesn’t,” Alma accused. “He’s always perfectly level-headed and under control.”
He shook his head and stole another glance at Grace.
Alma was right in a lot of ways, actually.
He always had been able to separate business and personal, to keep things professional.
But he was starting to understand what she was talking about.
And he was starting to have days, like everyone else apparently, where it was hard to pretend.