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Blake grabs my upper arm as I turn toward the door, spinning me to face him. He pulls me to him, forcing my arms around his neck as he encircles my waist, crushing me to his chest . . . Blake's scared. I move my hand up and down his back, my face buried between his neck and my arm.
He pulls in an uneven breath. "I don't want you to go, Lily. My stomach's in knots about it."
"I'll be fine. I'm very good at my job, Blake. I'll be back before you know it. A week tops."
"I have a bad feeling about this. I can't explain it. Please . . .”
I let go, forcing him to stand apart from me. His hands stay on my sides, lightly squeezing them. "It's not up for debate. Let's go eat."
"Let's hope your team isn't around. I don't want to hear the witty banter about your less than quiet orgasms." He puts his arm around my shoulder as we descend the stairs.
I playfully punch his side. "You shut your fucking mouth. Anyone who mentions anything will be punched in the face."
"Oh, baby, I love it when you talk dirty." He pulls me in, kissing my temple. I laugh openly at his silliness.
Glancing up, I halt mid-step. Teresa's in the kitchen, pulling dishes from the oven and stove-top, placing them on the island decorated with two place mats and three large, white candles.
"What's this, Teresa?" Blake lets go of me to step into the kitchen. I stop close behind him. Tears shine in Teresa's eyes.
"Good Morning, Mr. Mason," she says, unable to hide the strain in her voice.
"Teresa, what's wrong?"
"Miss Lily leaves tonight. She didn't eat supper. When I realized you two were awake, I came to make you and her a big Mexican dinnerfiesta."
"Oh, Teresa, you didn't have to do that," I say, breathless at her kindness.
Five full dinners and two desserts cover the countertop. She's spent a great deal of effort in this. My chest tightens painfully.
"I know,mi hija, but I wanted to," she says patting my cheek.
Blake's shocked as she touches my skin.
Her gaze bores into mine, tears pooling in the bottom of my eyes. She wipes them away as they spill over, running down my cheeks.
This feels like goodbye.
Impulsively, I throw my arms around her neck. She gasps, encircling my midsection with her arms. My breathing is erratic with the effort to control the threatening sobs. These emotions are brutal and completely foreign to me, making them stronger, rawer.
"Ai,Bonita, don't cry. You strong, so strong. You come back to us," she whispers, smoothing my hair against my back.
Standing up straight, I swipe the tears from my face. "I'm sorry, Teresa. I'm a fucking mess these last few days."
Her smile is infectious, and I grin, wide and genuine.
"Don't apologize. I made you and Mr. Mason some goodMexícanand Spanish dishes. You going to love them." She gestures toward the extravagant layout of food.
"Eat with us, Teresa," Blake says, taking my hand and pulling me into the kitchen.
She nods, pulling out an extra placemat.
By three a.m., we've picked at every dish, and I'm stuffed. Teresa tells me about her life in Mexico before coming to work for Blake, her late husband, and children. In the time I've been here, I've only spent time with Blake and the team. Being with other people, doing something normal, is more satisfying than I would've thought possible.
"So, Lily, you like to do anything outside your work for Interpol?" She pours more soda into my glass.
"Not really. I've never had any socialization aside from the team. Even when we aren't on assignment, I hang out in my apartment and train at Interpol headquarters." I pop a piece of churro into my mouth.
"Where's your apartment, again?" Blake takes a swig from his beer.