22. Lyra
Taran has his hand on my lower back as we walk up the front path to the Hernandez house. I”m clutching the container of salted caramel thumbprint cookies I made earlier, while his free hand carries a wine bag with a nice red. In my favorite dark wash jeans, black cashmere sweater, comfy leopard print booties, and camel peacoat, I”m hoping I”m dressed nice enough without looking fussy. I hate fussy. When Taran picked me up, I was relieved to see he was dressed similarly in jeans, white collared shirt, under a baby blue sweater that looks way too good on him.
As we walk up, I try to take in every detail of the home. Everything speaks to it being such a well loved and inviting place. The manicured lawn and flower beds lead up to a covered white front porch that goes the entirety of the front of the house, much like mine. There are a couple of blue Adirondack chairs on it with a bistro table, and some hanging plants along the top edge. The house itself is a matching white with deep indigo shutters and a matching front door with frosted glass in the middle. Taran reaches around me to open the door and walk in without knocking.
“They”ll have music blasting and be busy in the kitchen. If you”re expected, you just walk in. Especially if they consider you family,” he explains when he sees my questioning face. I nod, because it”s the same going to Gina and Wayne”s for any gathering. Before I can say anything back, the most lovely older woman is barreling toward me from where I”m guessing the kitchen is. I barely have time to put the container of cookies on the entry table before she”s on me.
“Mija, you”re here, it”s so wonderful to meet you!” Then I”m enfolded in a crushing hug as she kisses both of my cheeks.
“Mami, at least let her get her coat off,” Carlo calls as he comes up behind her. She looks back at him and lightly smacks his cheek.
“Don”t tell me how to greet Lyra, I”ll be excited if I want to.”
Taran sighs indulgently as he starts introductions.
“Alejandra, this is my girlfriend Lyra. Lyra, this is Carlo”s mom Alejandra. You never got to meet Carlo either even though you saw him, so meet my favorite doofus in the world.” Carlo smacks him upside the head before bringing him into a side hug, and then he turns and hugs me.
“It”s really nice to finally meet you, Lyra.” He says it with a lot of feeling and sincerity, even while giving me a cheeky wink.
“Likewise, Carlo. I”m happy to be here.” I can’t help smiling hugely back at him. He’s a charmer, and knowing how important he is to Taran makes me like him immediately. Alejandra has moved on to giving Taran the huge hug and double kiss treatment before she takes our coats, grabs the cookie container, and leads us all into the kitchen. It”s full of sound, movement, and the most incredible smells. There’s a lot to take in, but it”s also so homey and comforting. A colorful mosaic backsplash makes a statement against the white countertops and white raised panel cabinets. The island is butcher block, which adds some depth and even more warmth. Before I know it I”m introduced to Carlo”s dad Hector, his sisters Lucia, Rosa, and Anita, and his sister-in-law Daniella. The women are dancing around and singing to the music while they prep what look like empanadas, Hector is at the oven checking on what smells like the most gorgeously seasoned pork, and Alejandra gets next to him at the stove to check the pot of what is unmistakably rice and beans.
“Can I help with anything?” I say it to the room at large, but Taran answers at my side.
“We’ll probably be on salad duty. Alejandra doesn”t like me doing any actual cooking ever since the fire I almost caused in 2012, which will never be forgotten. I set a dish towel on fire when I had it too close to the stove flame, but we put it out quickly,” he says sheepishly.
“Ah, yes, the great almost fire of 2012, even I heard about it before I met you. It”s legendary,” I tease him. Everyone bursts out laughing, and Hector booms out, “I like her, Taran.” He just leans down and whispers in my ear.
“Getting you back for that later, Firecracker.” The wicked promise in his deep voice makes my toes curl.
“Counting on it,” I whisper back.
I hear the front door open then, with a cacophony of more noise coming in with the cold air. Children”s voices chatter, accompanied by the percussion of them stomping their feet on the front mat, harmonized with a deep murmur and a higher voice giving clear orders to behave and not make a mess while they”re here. Alejandra rushes back out to greet Taran”s family, and before long she”s herding them into the kitchen as well. Seth is unmistakable as Taran”s brother. They have the same hair, same facial structure, but Seth has Evelyn”s baby blues. Sienna is stunning with thick strawberry blonde hair, a smattering of freckles, and bright hazel eyes. Addison and Mason are both mini carbon copies of their dad with their dark hair and blue eyes, though Addy has freckles like Sienna. They”re adorable and clearly high energy. Addy reminds me so much of Ava, and I immediately decide the two girls need to meet and have a playdate somehow, someday. Taran slips his arm around my waist and draws me close.
“Uncle TarTar, do you have a girlfriend?” Addy asks, basically with hearts in her eyes as she looks at us.
“Ew, gross,” Mason adds while making a spectacularly disgusted face.
“Mason, it”s not gross, it”s a wonderful thing for your uncle,” Sienna chides. She”s the first to come up and hug Taran, then me while he introduces us. The kids rush their uncle once Mason seems convinced I don”t have cooties before they both shake my hand. Seth greets me warmly with a hug and a very heartfelt, “So nice to meet you.” Seth is so tall that I hadn”t noticed Evelyn right behind him until he bent to hug me. She comes right up and squeezes me, too. This is a whole lot of overwhelming hugging, but I think I”m ok with it. It”s actually nice.
“It”s so good to see you, sweetheart,” Evelyn says warmly to me before Taran wraps her up in an absolute bear hug. Alejandra and Evelyn go right over to help the ladies finish making the empanadas, while Taran and I start to put together a quick salad. The oldest sister Lucia comes over and grabs my hand, though.
“Only Taran is banned from anything resembling cooking. Want to learn how to put together empanadas? Too bad if you don’t.” She smirks as she pulls me over to where there is an assembly line going on, giving me a twirl to the music first that I luckily don”t stumble through. Lucia shows me all of the steps for the empanada, from cutting the circle of dough, the exact perfect amount of filling to put on the one side, folding the other half over, and then finally sealing the edge before crimping it with a fork. It”s soothing work, almost zen like as I fall into a rhythm with the other ladies. Alejandra is frying them in batches in a big pot next to the rice and beans before transferring them to a cooling rack to drain. They smell so incredible.
Taran, Carlo, and Seth are playing with the kids while Sienna volunteers to set the table. Rosa steps away to help her because Hector announces that we”re just about all ready to eat. Alejandra finishes the last batch of empanadas before she moves out of the way for Hector to get the pork out of the oven. He calls me over with a friendly wink.
“This is the pernil. We slow roast the pork shoulder with all kinds of spices and a glaze. It”s so flavorful. We make it a lot for the holidays instead of turkey or ham. Since Thanksgiving is soon, we thought it would be nice with everyone here. Have you ever heard of it?”
“I have, actually! I go to Thanksgiving at my best friend”s house every year, and this is what her husband and in-laws make instead of turkey,” I tell him with a smile.
“Oh man, I was hoping to wow you. You”ll be having it next week again, too!”
“Trust me, I will never get tired of pernil.”
He chuckles. “Good. Let”s go eat!”
Everyone is hauling in piles of food, talking over each other, and squabbling the way only tight families do. Taran is at my elbow, whispering in my ear before I can even look for him.
“Having a good time?” His breath against my ear makes me shiver in the best way.
“A great time. I loved making the empanadas and everyone is really nice.”
He brings me in close and kisses my temple without saying a word. The emotion radiating off of him speaks for itself, the happiness that I”m getting along well with his nearest and dearest. It makes me deeply miss having my sister, brother-in-law, and their kids close by. I would love for them to meet Taran. My mom, dad, and step-mom will probably meet him at some point too, as well as my brothers, but who knows when I”ll get to see them.
Everything we eat is beyond delicious, and I let Taran know that he may need to roll me out of here. Between the salad, empanadas, pernil, rice and beans, and dessert, I’m full to bursting. Evelyn is a good patient, avoiding the empanadas and barely having any of the pernil. She grumbles a little about it, but still gets her fill of salad and the rice and beans. It”s not long before Evelyn, Seth, Sienna, and the kids are gathering themselves to leave, so the kids can get to bed. Hector and Alejandra retreat to the living room to watch TV, and Taran, Carlo, the sisters, and I decide to play a few rounds of low stakes poker at the dining room table. I am feeling fiendishly delighted, because Taran isn”t aware yet of just how much I love playing Texas hold ”em. After every meal, my Nana and Papa would sit and teach me how to play, and I”m no slouch. I”m suspicious that Daniella is a card shark too, since she’s the one who suggested it. My suspicions are confirmed pretty quickly, because the betting in the first hand goes down to me and Daniella. When she calls, I flip to show my two pairs with queens high. She honest to goodness growls like a pissed off cat, and throws down her two pairs with nines high. Cackling, I take the pot.
“Taran! You didn”t mention that Lyra is a hustler at poker,” Lucia jokes.
“Yeah, would have been nice to know,” Daniella grouses. Lucia laughs as she rubs her back.
“Don”t be a sore loser, querida. I like that you”ll finally have some competition at cards.” Then she winks at me.
“She continually surprises me,” Taran says, looking at me with that incredible smile of his and so much affection in his eyes that it nearly steals my breath.
“You two are going to make me want to throw up even more than Luce and Dani,” Rosa groans, but she shoots me a sly grin to make sure I know she”s kidding. Lucia swats at her for saying it. In the next hand, Daniella takes it all with three of a kind after a showdown with Carlo. I was forced to fold with a crap hand after the flop. We play two more super competitive, trash talking hands before we call it a night. Hugs are exchanged again all around, we say goodnight to Alejandra and Hector, and all of them are emphatic about how nice it was to meet me. It makes my chest ache. Then Taran and I are heading back to my place. I know without even needing to ask that he”ll be staying over again. The tension in the car is thick enough to cut with a knife as we hold hands while he drives. We chat about the night, how much I enjoy his second family, and how fun it was to play poker for the first time in a while.
“How did you become so good?”
“Another skill my Nana and Papa taught me. My Nana was especially good. Her poker face was second to none, she could bluff anyone,” I tell him with a wistful smile. “She”d sit there with a whiskey, stone faced while she beat us all.”
When we get into the house, the routine we seem to fall into comes naturally yet again. We get Brody situated, and I turn on my speaker to play Sinatra. Taran smiles when he hears it and takes me in his arms, gently swaying us as he holds me close. I nuzzle into his chest while I feel him bury his nose into my hair, breathing a sigh. I never knew slow dancing in the kitchen could be so wonderful, but consider me a convert. The nuzzles and sighs turn into slow kisses, my arms winding around his neck as I arch into him. We don”t make it out of the kitchen. He hoists me onto the counter, stepping between my legs as he starts to kiss and nip along my jaw and down my neck.
“The smell of roses will always make me think of you,” he whispers on my lips, before lightly gripping my hair to angle my head so he can deepen the kiss. Our tongues tangle languidly, hands roaming, electricity humming between us as my core starts to ache. I palm him through his pants and he groans, so rock hard for me already.
“My pretty Firecracker, am I taking you right on this kitchen counter?” His voice is low, deeper than normal, and full of delicious heat against my ear. I closed all of the blinds and turned lights on when we came in, so we have the privacy. Fuck it.
”Yes, you are. Now, please,” I breathe, my voice damn near shaking with need. What has this man done to me? He chuckles as he murmurs, “so polite.”
Then he pulls his sweater off, and I go to work on the buttons of his shirt until I can push it off his shoulders. When I kiss his chest and scrape my nails down his glorious abs, he shudders before he starts kissing me again. The kisses are demanding and urgent as he fumbles to unbutton my pants. I lift myself up slightly so he can shimmy them off and discard them on the floor. The cold of the quartz counter bites at my bare thighs, but it barely registers since I”m so overheated right now. He”s kneeling in the next blink of my eye, lavishing kisses and little bites on my inner thighs before he brings his mouth to exactly where I want it. The thin lace barely serves as a barrier as he kisses and licks my center, before he pushes the panties aside to suck on my already swollen clit. I almost fully come off the counter with a scream when he does it, the pleasure is so intense.
“Fuck, I love making you scream.”
“I’m a big fan, too,” I try to quip, but the words come out as more of a strangled moan.
I feel his smile at that as he continues to lick and suck, pressure coiling in me and ready to burst. He adds a finger right at the perfect spot, and that”s it for me. Before I know it, I”m shaking with an incredibly intense orgasm. Taran never stops until I”ve come down from it, though. Then he”s peeling my underwear all the way off, and pulling down his pants and boxer briefs in one fluid motion. I quickly shuck my sweater and bra before I reach for him, giving his erection a few tugs. He pulls me even closer to the edge of the counter, kissing me and clutching me close to him as he lines us up. It”s that euphoric feeling of fullness when he slides home. His forehead drops to mine while we just watch each other and kiss as he moves. It”s more intimate and slow than last time, like we”re savoring discovering new layers of each other as we come together. His strokes are long and languid, hitting me at just the right angle. My legs latch at the small of his back, and every inch of each other that can be touching, is touching. In spite of the cold, sweat mists his torso, and it just enhances his spiced smell. He comes on a guttural groan, and the sound sends me over the edge again with him.