Page 55 of Indulging Temptation (Tempting the Heart #1)

I look at my mom, and the suspicious gleam in her eye is making me nervous because all I can think about is the fact that Tomás should be here soon, and if this is how she is acting now, forget how awkward it will be if she keeps acting like this when he gets here.

I mutter a thank you to Tino, keeping it short, though I really am thankful. The attention to detail he puts into everything means so much to me. And after years of not allowing anyone but myself to take care of me, it’s refreshing…even if it’s complicated.

“How long are you two staying? Tomás should be here within the hour. His meeting in Colorado was longer than he expected, so he had to get a different flight than he planned,” my mom says.

Eyeing the digital clock on the stove, I take another sip of coffee. “That’s too bad, we have to head back to Rhinebeck for Tino’s segment.”

“No, we don’t. I told Chef Caiazzo a family emergency came up, and I’d have to skip out on the rest of the segment.”

“What? Why?”

Tino looks slightly dumbfounded, as does my mom and Adrian.

“Umm… because there was a family emergency? I told you I wasn’t going to let you come here alone, and being here, with you, is more important. Chef understood, they are going to rearrange the segment.”

A feeling takes over me, one that I’ve been battling since I can remember.

It emerges when I feel like the veil I need to present to others begins to slip, and I’m losing control.

And once it starts, there’s no connecting common sense or consideration for anyone’s feelings but my own from my brain to my mouth.

Words spill from my lips like an out-of-body experience, and it’s only until I hear out loud that I’m able to register how cold they come off.

“We aren’t family, though, Tino,” I say, horrified at how blunt and emotionless that came off.

As if that isn’t bad enough, I keep going like an absolute train wreck.

“I appreciate you coming.” I swallow, the double meaning of that is too ripe for me not to get stuck on as I say it.

“With me. But I’m your publicist and manager, remember?

What happens in my personal life, should not affect what is happening in your professional one. ”

Instant regret slams me in the face for saying it.

And to only make matters worse, I have my mother and Adrian looking at me with their damn mouths hung open, in shock over how cold I just sounded to the man who went out of his way to make my coffee how I want it.

Who braided my hair for me last night. Who keeps taking care of me because, for some reason, he thinks I deserve it.

“Yep, you’re right. I’m not your family. I’m your boss. You work for me, remember?”

The air becomes caught in my throat. If I thought I sounded cold, he just raised the stakes.

And I deserve it. But what I don’t deserve is how hearing him talk to me like that, in a way I’ve never heard him talk to me ever, is doing to me.

It’s assertive, cold, and I like the effect it has on my body.

“So, if I , the one writing the checks, decide that I want to come with my publicist, who so happens to be my fucking…” He looks to my mom with an apologetic look on his face for the cursing, but my mom is across the table watching and invested in whatever this on the surface match is between Tino and I.

A little too invested if you ask me. All this woman is missing is popcorn with how locked in she is.

Tino clears his throat, trying to center himself, but I can see how mad he is and how much he is trying to conceal it.

Though those veins through his hands and forearms, as well as the one pulsing on his temple, are giving him away real quick.

“As I was saying. My publicist, who works for me, who just so happens to be my best friend’s sister.

If I want to skip out on whatever job opportunity I want to, to be supportive to the only family that’s been nice to me since mine fucking shattered, so be it. ”

Rendered speechless for what feels like an eternity, I force myself to speak. “So that means DeStefano is taking your spot?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, not seeming as upset about it as I expected. But I know how good beating him yesterday made him feel. DeStefano has always been an asshole to Tino. It gave him a sense of validation.

“And you’re okay with that?” I ask.

Keeping his gaze on me, making it feel as though we’re alone, and not standing in the kitchen with my mom and Adrian watching us with the same intensity they would a telenovela, he responds.

“Of course. If it means being where I’m wanted, and where I can help you feel better, I’ll forfeit what I have to. ”

You are wanted. So wanted. But I don’t know how to say that. So I deflect. “Even if it’s to that asshole?” I smile, lightening the mood but it’s not returned on Tino’s face, and I don’t blame him.

“Yes, even to that asshole. Anyway, now that you’ve put work at the forefront of my mind, competition or not, we have shit to do today, so why don’t you finish your coffee, and I’ll go upstairs and gather our stuff.”

Ah, I feel so bad. Thanks to me the morning, and the day, feel ruined.

“Tino, it’s okay. I can grab my stuff.”

“No, I got it.” He excuses himself and heads out of the kitchen, and I’m filled with immediate regret.

Adrian leaves the kitchen as well to go out on the patio, leaving me and my mom alone, probably sensing that my mom has an earful for me to hear.

“What the hell was that, mija?”

“The reason why Tomás suggested I step in and help Tino.” Is the best I can come up with, but she is not amused with my answer. Neither am I.

“Do I look stupid to you?”

“Oh my god, ma, no. Of course not.”

“Then why aren’t you telling me what’s going on?

Because the last time I checked, bosses and employees don’t talk like that to each other.

Let alone look at each other the way you two have since you both were teenagers running in and out of the old apartment.

And how dare you say he isn’t like family?

I love that boy, excuse me, man, as I would my own children.

And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he loves you. ”

“Love, ma? Stop.”

She reaches for my hand. “Why does that word scare you so much? Me and your father, although far from perfect, always showed you and your brother what a loving marriage was, as well as unconditional love for you both. Yet you seem to detest the word, or the idea that someone like Tino, who knows you…” She taps at her chest, above her heart.

“The real you. Can and wants to be there for you.”

“Mom, I promise there is nothing — ”

She clicks her tongue in reprimand that quickly fades to sadness.

“Life is too short, and I’m getting too damn old to have to sit back and witness you lying to yourself and to me any longer.

I’m not an idiot. I have noticed the way he’s looked at you has grown from wanting to have, to wanting to keep.

Now the details of whatever line you crossed and how you did it” —she motions to her lips as if she’s locking in a secret and then keeping it there, throwing away the key— “is none of my business. But if this is because of how your pain in the ass brother — ” She stops to do the sign of the cross, dramatic as ever but entirely true to her personality.

“Lo siento Dios. Anyway, you know what I mean. He’ll get over it. ”

She’s referring to the way my brother has voiced how disappointed he is in our dad’s best friend for being with our mom. They never married. My mom never wanted to remarry. But he’s been there for her through grieving, life, and health scares, honoring her wishes.

“He doesn’t like me and Adrian together, but he deals with it because he has no damn choice. And the same will be for when he finds out about you and Tino.”

My heart sinks. While what she is saying is partially the reason, it’s not all of it.

“Ma, it’s more complicated than that.”

“It only is if you make it that way.”

“Just promise me you won’t tell Tomás.”

She shakes her head, sighing, “I won’t but mi amor, since you were little, you clung onto making lists for everything.

And if I had to guess, if you sat down and made a list on your ideal partner, Santino would hit every mark.

Whatever reasons you have for keeping him at arm’s length, you owe to yourself and to him to figure out, before you push him away for good. ”

As Tino comes downstairs with our luggage, I know she’s right.

I have to be honest with myself, but more importantly…with him.

However, with the attention he has on his phone, I’m pulled from what my mom just said and think back to the message he got, wondering what crisis we will have to overcome now, aside from the one we’ve willingly submersed ourselves in.