Page 51 of Guarded Knight

Only he wasn’t. I wonder if I would have traded the short romantic tryst we had back for the friendship full of pining…

“Come on,” he interrupts my trip to the past. “I need to feed and water you.”

I nod, or blush, or something and I’m glad he turns toward the stairs because my heart needs a minute to recalibrate.

But my heartbeat doesn’t settle, it quickens with wanting more as he walks away and his back muscles flex and twist.

He turns and sets his gorgeous brown eyes on me. “You coming?”

I’m not following him. I’m falling for him… and I need to work harder to stop it.

The ending I once imagined for us never happened. Fate had other plans for us, and I’d do well to remember he’s told me as it is. He’s not the Gabriel I once thought was made just for me. He’s now a man who only knows how to run. And who thinks that loving me means letting me be free.

But when he walks down the stairs, away from me instead of toward me, it strikes me… Moving on and not taking men seriously wasn’t something I did simply because of my disease.

I never moved on because I never got over him.

14

When I was younger,I tagged along to Gabriel’s birthday parties any time Xander took pity on me or my mom made him. I asked all the time, because after the first, I never wanted to miss a single one.

They were epic. Mariachi music, often from their own family members. Piñatas. Tres leches cake that would be my finalsupper if I ever got to choose. Carnitas, tamales… and the smell of charcoal and meat for hours. Gabriel’s birthday is in late March, but rain or shine, they’d throw an outdoor party, and somehow, even if the Starlight Canyon winter still clutched our bones, the Mendezes could make the whole world warm up with those parties.

Being wrapped up in this tight-knit family gathering, with homemade guac on the horizon, is better than my oversized cable knit blanket.

Mariachi music plays out of Bluetooth speakers placed around the yard, and dappled light filters through the trees. The gang is gathered in Luis’ backyard, which looks a lot like Gabriel and Anton’s as the houses are near enough identical. It’s a heavenly sight.

Luis preps meats on the grill with the help of Julia, the woman from book club who I now know owns Heritage Tack and Feed.

Rio laughs about something and clinks beer bottles with Anton. Santi crouches next to Kat’s son, Theo, and his nephew, Nino, helping them with a whittling project. Owen, the youngster Santi fosters, throws balls for the little dog who I think he called Keeper. And Freya tosses one for the big dog.

And my eyes finally stop on G’s sister, Shay, sitting on her husband, Logan’s, lap, sipping one of the Chimayo Blondies they brought in cases from a brewery back home.

I nearly sigh inside seeing how in love they are. Logan was the hockey superstar in high school, then NHL, Shay the baker girl. I know they had something brief but serious in college before splitting. Them getting a second chance is priceless and stabs at my romantic side to have one of my own.

And all this closeness in one place, this bond, this happiness and comfort…

It makes me miss my family and even wonder if I’ve made the right decision seeking my independence. Sure, I didn’t want them doting and giving unsolicited advice. Sure, I didn’t want them to have to worry all the time and thought “out of sight out of mind” would help that. But this vibe here? It’s me through and through.

But now Xander and my nieces are miles away on the East Coast. Mom and Dad are thinking about moving off the family land, which is becoming too much to manage as they get older and there aren’t any kids running around on it.

It’s too late to turn around. Home is still a feeling; one I get every time we’re all together.

But home isn’t a place anymore.

Not like what the Mendezes have created here.

The playlist shifts, and the first strains of violins rise, quick and urgent, curling into the night air like a spark catching.

Rio grins and cranks the volume, and Luis throws his head back with a whoop. “¡Más fuerte, hijo!”

Rio turns it even louder, and a joyous song bursts free, trumpets chasing violins, rhythm tumbling faster and faster until it becomes a heartbeat under my skin.

Luis keeps his tongs in hand but abandons his station at the grill and heads to the middle of the lawn, dancing and letting out yelps in perfect sync with the music.

“My birthday wish…” he shouts over the music, “is we dance!”

At that, the yard erupts.