Page 28

Layla

“The coast is clear,” I whisper when I duck my head back into my room.

Teagan fell asleep in my bed, and considering Abuela tends to be here early on tamale days, I have to make sure she’s not lurking in the hallway when he sneaks out. When I turn around, he’s pulling his jeans over his hips and I get momentarily mesmerized by the way his muscles flex and bunch. He catches me staring and smirks.

“Unless you want your Abuela to hear me fuck you against the door, you better stop looking at me like that, Lovely.”

“Your filthy mouth…” Shaking my head, I stoop to pick up his shirt and toss it in his face.

“Ach, you love my filthy mouth and you know it. ”

He’s right. I do.

“Get out of here. I don’t want to incur her wrath or be sent to Confession.”

He reaches for the doorknob, still shirtless, while planting a quick kiss on my lips. Just as he pulls it open, I stretch an arm across.

“Put your shirt on! What if someone else sees you leaving my room half-clothed?”

“You just said the coast is clear.” He reminds me. “It’ll be fine. I’m just stepping across the hall.”

“Teagan,” I hiss as he yanks the door open. Standing there, with her arms crossed over her chest, stands my Abuela, eyebrow raised.

Shit.

“Abuela! Hi! Teagan was just…” My face flames in mortification.

“?Basta! I can see what he was just doing and you should be ashamed of yourselves!”

“Ah, Mrs…” Teagan starts, hurriedly yanking his shirt on.

She cuts him a scathing look that stops him in his tracks. When Abuela gives that look, everyone stops.

“Clearly, your mother didn’t teach you correctly. If you’re going to sneak a boy out of your room, you always check twice before shoving him out the door! I expected better.”

Wait…

“I’m sorry, what?” I ask dumbfounded. Mami has always ingrained it in me that Abuela is the one to watch out for.

“You better be glad it was me, and not your Abuelo, that found you! He would be carting you off to the church faster than you can blink.” She eyes Teagan appreciatively, a small smile stretching across her face, before looking back at me. “Otherwise, good for you, carino. Muy guapo.”

With that, she scurries down the hallway toward the kitchen, leaving Teagan and I gaping at each other in disbelief.

“So…” he says slowly. “Does this mean I can share a bed with you for the rest of the trip?”

Snorting, I push him into the hallway and close the door in his face. God, I love him. And against my better judgment, I’ve loved having him here in Texas with my family. It hasn’t been quite as horrible as I originally thought. He fits so perfectly, weaving himself in seamlessly. He gets along with my brothers, especially Raf, like he’s known them for ages. He’s kind to my sisters, listening to their teenage chatter with interest and making them feel seen. He and my Papá spent more than a couple of hours discussing how big corporations are detrimental to small business owners. Other than when Teagan reminds her that I’m my own person, Mami gets along great with him. Last night at the rodeo, he patiently listened to Abeulo describe the rodeos he grew up attending while asking questions. And clearly Abuela loves him. When she told him she expected his help with tamales, he didn’t bat an eye, just agreed to do whatever she needed of him. I honestly think he’s more excited about it than she is.

Quickly throwing on a hoodie over my leggings, I toss my hair up in a messy bun, and swipe some deodorant under my arms before stepping out of my room. After using the bathroom and brushing my teeth, I pad into the kitchen, following the smell of coffee and chorizo. I hear Mami’s laughter mingling with the deep timber of Rafael’s voice, and hope he’s making his special Chilaquiles. He has some secret ingredient that he refuses to tell any of us. It doesn’t matter how many times I watch him make Chilaquiles, I never figure it out. As I round the corner, I see that it’s not just my mother and brother congregating, but also Teagan and Abuela. The latter are sitting at the kitchen table looking through an old family recipe book. My heart warms watching her talk him through the process of making tamales. He’s completely invested.

“Buenos días, mija,” Mami greets me and Teagan’s eyes lift in my direction. He winks before giving his attention back to Abuela.

“Buenos días.” I shuffle over and kiss her cheek before making a beeline for the coffee bar where mugs, creamer, and sugar are waiting. As I doctor my cup, I try to peek over Raf’s shoulder. “Are those Chilaquiles, mi hermano preferido?”

“Hey!” He swats at me with a spatula and angles his body to shield what he’s doing. “Keep that up and you won’t get any, chaparrita. You know the rules.”

“Oh come on, Raf! You can’t be the only one to know the secret ingredient! What happens if you die? Not only will we be mourning your loss, but we’ll never have your Chilaquiles again?”

“Pretty much,” he agrees. “Sucks to be you.”

“What if you get married and have kids someday? Won’t you want your children to pass it down for generations?” I’m being ridiculous, I know.

“Well, if I have kids, I’ll worry about it then. Since that doesn’t seem likely at the moment, you’re SOL, Layla.”

I stick my tongue out at him and lift my foot to kick him in the ass when I walk by. He reciprocates slapping my leg with the spatula that makes me yelp. Murmuring curses under my breath, I take my coffee to the table to see where Teagan and Abuela are in their tamales lessons.

“So, why do you soak the husks if you’re just going to steam them?” I hear Teagan ask quietly.

“Soaking them makes it easier to fold them over the filling,” Abuela tells him patiently.

“Yeah, makes sense. So after soaking them, we make the filling and the dough?”

Abuela confirms that he’s correct with a nod and beaming smile. When he grins back at her, she actually blushes, proving that no one is excluded from Teagan’s charm.

“Which filling are we making for the tamales?” I ask, sipping my coffee.

“Red chile pork, salsa verde chicken, and bean. I made them yesterday, so all we have to do is fill and steam.”

“And eat them!” Marcos comes waltzing through the back door with his sunglasses on, a clear sign that he’s hungover, but still chipper. Which is par for the course as far as he’s concerned - there’s not much that gets my older brother down and out.

Mami slides from the bar stool she’s been sitting on to kiss my brother hello before rinsing her coffee mug, then placing it in the dishwasher. Rafael hands her a plate of Chilaquiles before passing one to Marcos, who groans in thanks. I distinctly remember him telling me once that Chilaquiles are his go-to hangover food.

“ Gracias San Rafael. If you weren’t my brother, I’d kiss you,” Marcos says, earning a disgusted look from him.

“Where did you two end up last night after the rodeo?” I question my brothers while filling plates for Abuela, Teagan, and myself.

Marcos, between mouthfuls of his breakfast, begins to tell us about a new bar he found downtown. “It’s this weird cross between a honky tonk bar and a night club. There are two levels inside. The bottom is the bar with a dance floor and the top is like a VIP area, just not as swanky. And you don’t have to be some rich pendejo to get in. You just have to pay a cover fee, let them slap a neon bracelet on you, and you’re good to go. The best part is that they switch up the music themes every hour or so. When we got there it was two-stepping and square dancing, followed by Salsa hour, then that weird techno music they play at raves.”

Oddly enough, the place sounds like a lot of fun. I enjoy dancing to various types of music, so I bet it would be a blast.

“Raf and I were thinking about going back tonight, actually. You two should join us.” He points a finger at Teagan and me as I look at Rafael questioningly. That’s not his scene, so I’m shocked that he went along with Marcos. He simply shrugs and goes back to eating.

“Yeah, maybe,” I reply as I approach the table. “What do you think, Teag?”

When I set his plate down, I feel a hand wrap around the back of my knee, squeezing gently before I sit.

“Sounds deadly. Let’s do it.”

“Right on,” Marcos says. “We’re leaving around seven-thirty, so if you want to ride with us, be ready.”

* * *

“If I eat one more tamal, I’m going to absolutely burst.” Teagan reclines back in his chair, rubbing both hands on his belly.

“I told you to start with just one of each,” I chastise him playfully.

“Aye, you did, Lovely. I should have listened, but they’re all so good I couldn’t stop. Especially those pork ones.”

Those have always been my favorite too. Abuela’s red sauce is the stuff of legends. However, unlike my brother, she isn’t stingy with the recipe and ensured we all have a copy.

“Now it’s time to dance them all off. Come on, guapo.” I grab his hand and tug in an attempt to pull him from the chair.

Groaning, he stands and lets me lead him back to our rooms. “The idea of dancing right now is not appealing in the slightest. I think I’d rather take a nap. Can we do that?”

Giggling, I send him through the door to his room. “If you don’t go, my brothers will never let you live it down, and I promise that’s not something you want. Go get dressed while I fix my hair.”

I take my time getting ready. With the rodeo, I wanted to look cute, but for tonight? Tonight’s destination calls for something edgier. Using my flat iron, I straighten my hair until it’s smooth before pulling it back into a tight, high ponytail. I know I’m going to get sweaty while dancing, so I apply light foundation and powder to make my skin look smooth and flawless. Foregoing blush, I brush some bronzer over my cheekbones just to highlight them. A neutral but shimmery eyeshadow, thin swipe of eyeliner, and lengthening mascara is all I do, but it’s enough to make my normally boring brown eyes pop. And just because I know it will drive Teagan wild, I apply a bright red lipstick.

Rummaging through my suitcase, I dig out the outfit I purchased with a night like tonight in mind. I feel giddy just thinking about my Irishman’s reaction when he sees it.