Chapter 13 – Remi
Thirteen
Remi
Estela opens the front door before I finish entering the last number on the keypad. Her eyes crinkle into a warm smile as she pulls me into a hug.
“Mi nina, you’re early!”
“Yeah, I left the guys in charge at work.” I peer around her, looking for my favorite head of curls. “Because someone kept texting me nonstop to come over and bake cookies.”
Zara jumps out from her hiding spot with her best attempt at a terrifying roar. She almost gets me, but I slap a hand over my heart and gasp instead, giving her an Oscar-worthy performance.
“Did I scare you, Remi? Like, actually?”
“You did, menace. I almost shi—”
I clamp my mouth shut, nearly forgetting about her little ears. Not that it matters, because Zara immediately bursts into giggles, knowing exactly what I was about to say.
Estela nudges my shoulder. “Nice save.”
I wink at her before reaching for Zara’s hand. “Where are those cookies you promised me?”
“This way. Come on! But just a warning, Estela won’t let me taste the cookie dough.”
“What? That’s the best part.”
“I know!” she says, already dragging me toward the kitchen.
Estela follows behind us. “Your mom and dad are flying in tonight. The last thing I want is for you to have an upset stomach on my watch. Just be patient, chiquita. The first batch will be out of the oven in ten minutes.”
Zara pouts until she looks up at me. Her expression brightens when I silently mouth, I got you.
“Remi, don’t spoil her. It took me an hour to convince her not to sneak a bite.”
I shrug, pop a piece of dough into my mouth, and slip another into Zara’s waiting hand.
“It’s not my job to follow rules when it comes to her. I’m the fun cousin, remember? Don’t mess with my rep.”
Estela shakes her head, holding back a laugh as she starts gathering ingredients for dinner.
“Where is everybody?” I ask, now stealing a handful of chocolate chips.
“Senora Amalia and Kai are out and won’t be back until later tonight. It’s their anniversary week.”
I chuckle around a mouthful of chocolate. “Week? Figures.”
I don’t know what was in the water when they all got together, but their love is adorably gross. Even decades later, my parents still act like they can’t get enough of each other.
And because my brain hates me, that thought instantly brings him to mind.
Absolutely fucking not.
It’s been almost a week since that day at the gym, and I promised myself I wouldn’t think about Thiago, that kiss, or anything else about the man I shoved into a mental vault and sealed shut.
The problem is that he keeps finding his way through the cracks.
Why are you lying to yourself, Remi?
Okay, maybe I broke down once and looked him up on social media.
That hardly counts as anything, especially since the man has the online presence of someone’s grandfather.
His entire profile consists of two photos from a year ago without a single caption between them.
One is a sunrise and the other a sunset, both taken somewhere in Texas, if I had to guess.
I hate that I stared at them longer than any sane person should.
They were beautiful, though, and they made me wonder where he was when he took them.
And what made him stop long enough to pull out his phone and capture what he thought was worth remembering.
Then my thoughts drift to my mother and whether she ever stood beneath those same Texas skies when she was younger.
I smile as I picture it.
Then I mentally slap myself back to reality for the slip. It’s not that I like the guy. I just happen to have eyes, and who isn’t a sucker for a man with a pretty face who looks built to disrespect me and toss me around the way I like it?
“Remi…” Zara’s voice hits me like a bucket of ice water, and I startle more than I did when she jumped out at me by the door.
“Hmm?” I pop another piece of chocolate into my mouth and try to play it off, though it’s ridiculous since she can’t read my thoughts.
“Are you still mad at Officer Thiago?”
This child must be practicing sorcery.
I slam my fist on the counter as the chocolate goes down the wrong pipe, sending me into a coughing fit. Zara instantly jumps onto her stool and starts patting my back.
“Oh no, Remi. Maybe Estela was right. Are you gonna throw up now?”
I shake my head as the coughing slowly subsides. “No,” I manage. “I’m fine. It just went down the wrong way.”
“Who is Officer Thiago, mija?” Estela asks, placing a glass of water in my hand.
I barely catch my breath before Zara beats me to the answer.
“He was her boyfriend.”
Estela’s eyes widen. “Her boyfriend?”
Of course she would say that.
“No!” I say, swallowing a gulp of water and setting the glass down. “No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t even my friend.”
Zara turns to Estela and says matter-of-factly, “Cousin Remi kisses her not-boyfriends on the lips.”
“Zara!”
“You do. I saw you.” She turns back to Estela. “I saw her.”
This is getting worse by the second.
“Why haven’t you told me? This is great news,” Estela says, already co-signing Zara with an eager nod.
I press two fingers to my temple. “News? There’s no news. It was just one kiss. It meant nothing, and I haven’t even seen him in almost a week. There’s absolutely nothing to tell.”
Estela studies me with narrowed eyes, then turns to the little traitor. “Chiquita, go to my room and grab my purse. It’s in the first drawer of the nightstand by my bed. We have to run to the market to pick up something for dinner. Think you can do that?”
“Yes!” Zara hops off her stool and runs out of the kitchen.
I wait until she disappears down the hall, then turn back to Estela. “Before you ask, Thiago is no one.”
Fuck, I broke my own rule and said his name.
“I’ve known you for most of your life, Remi, and something about that boy has you all frazzled, tripping over your feet as you try to explain him away. Is that who you were daydreaming about?”
First of all, frazzled? When has she ever used that word? Second, no one is tripping over anything. And how the hell did she catch me daydreaming about Texas sunsets?
“Estela, I promise that the day I find the love of my life—or even a friend with benefits—”
She swats me with a rag.
“—you’ll be the first to know.”
“It’s all I ask,” she says, cupping my cheeks. “You’re too pretty para quedarte vistiendo santos.*”
I groan and roll my eyes. Some old traditions and ways of thinking really need to die, preferably before Estela decides it’s her mission to marry me off.
She keeps going on about finding a good man and eventually having babies, a conversation that sends chills down my spine, but I’m only half-listening when several texts fire off from my back pocket.
Callahan: Remi
Callahan: 911
Callahan: City inspector’s here. Says the ventilation system isn’t up to code. Need you to come deal with him.
Me: That’s bullshit. Everything is up to code. What’s he talking about?
Callahan: Won’t say. Just keeps asking for the owner.
Of course he is.
I stare at the screen, irritation erasing every thought of Thiago, marriage, and babies.
Me: Okay. I’m heading out now.
I slip my phone back into my pocket and push off the counter just as Zara dashes back into the kitchen.
“Come with us, Remi. Let’s go to the market with Estela.”
“I’m sorry, menace.” I shake my head and reach for my keys. “I’ve gotta run back to the range. Some work stuff came up that might take a while.”
Her shoulders sag. “Wait, what about your cookies?”
“Next time, Z.” I tip her chin up and press a kiss on her forehead. “Do me a favor, though. Keep an eye on Estela.”
I look over at Estela and shoot her a quick wink. “She gets distracted sometimes and wanders off, so make sure you hold her hand tight and don’t leave her side. Just in case.”
Zara perks up at her new responsibility. “Got it!”
“Later, baby,” I say as I make my way out of the kitchen.
“What? No goodbye for me?” Estela calls out after me, laughing. “Is it because I told you not to stay single forever?”
I wave her off without looking back. “Keep it up, and I’ll make it a personal goal.”
* A Spanish expression meaning “to end up unmarried.”