Blanca twirled her hair. “Jaime is cute and all, but more of a pretty boy. Tiburón is all man.”
Carolina quickly plotted her revenge against Blanca. “Well, you’re right. He couldn’tstopstaring at you.” She turned to Mamá. “And he had a neck tattoo! Of a shark!”
That should get Blanca back for filling Mamá’s head with crazy ideas that a millionaire had any romantic interest whatsoever in Carolina. Enrique most certainly did not. Not that she cared one way or another if he did. She wasn’t interested. Not even a little bit.
Carolina had always imagined that if she ever fell in love, it would happen naturally. Like maybe with a family friend, or someone from high school. But the well of potential suitors had run dry years ago inher super traditional town where almost everyone coupled off young. All of her high school classmates were either married or in serious relationships, or seriously unstable. And her parents’ friends had no prospective sons to date. She had met practically everyone in this town by now, since so many families in the community celebrated events together.
Besides, she was married to her business. If she’d messed around dating, it was unlikely she’d have been successful enough to buy her own farm.
Mamá shook a wooden spoon at Blanca. Bits of carnitas flew through the air. “A neck tattoo! Blanca, your papá would never let you date a man with any tattoos, let alone one on his neck. Is he in a gang? Aren’t the Sharks a gang?”
Blanca giggled. “Yeah, inWest Side Story, Mamá. And you’re so judgmental—he is not in a gang.”
“Well, you don’t know that. Si camina como un pato.”
Carolina adored Mamá’s idioms. “He doesn’t walk like a duck, but maybe he swims like a shark.”
Blanca shook her head. “I can’t believe you two!”
Mamá pointed her nail at Blanca. “You don’t want to embarrass your papá. You know his blood pressure is high.”
A twang of guilt settled over Carolina. She had encouraged her mom to shame a guy just because he had a tattoo. Fine, many tattoos. He could still be a good man. Carolina didn’t judge people by their skin color or their skin art, though she would never get a tattoo herself.
Blanca hugged Mamá. “Give Tiburón a chance. He seems like a great guy.”
Mamá scowled. “You aren’t allowed to date, Blanca!”
Ha. Blanca knew the rules. She couldn’t date until Carolina had a boyfriend. And that was never happening. So basically, Blanca would be single for the rest of her life, too.
Carolina thought that rule of their father’s was ridiculous. Blanca was an adult, and Carolina was certain if their father didn’t change his mind, Blanca would rebel.
“You can’t stop me. I’m going to date Tiburón if he asks me out!”
Mamá yanked Blanca’s hair. “You will do nothing of the sort. You are not dating anyone, especially someone who doesn’t live near us. I need your help with your sisters. Carolina runs the farm now that your Papá is sick. You have responsibilities, Blanca. Speaking of which, go call everyone for dinner. But take that bright red lipstick off your face before your papá sees it, and change your top first. You look like a streetwalker.”
Blanca pouted but didn’t say a word. Smart girl. She stuck her tongue out at Carolina, who sneered back.
Once alone, Mamá handed Carolina a spoon. Carolina stirred the carnitas, which was the extent of her cooking skills.
“So, that was really nice of this young man to offer to be Joseph. His parents must’ve raised him right.”
Nope. Carolina didn’t like where this was going. “It’s doubtful. I read a profile on them. His parents are divorced. And they are very wealthy. That is never a good combination.” She had met kids like him at college—filthy rich, without a care in the world, and no stable influence to ground them. They seemed to have everything, but honestly, Carolina felt sorry for them. She wouldn’t trade all the wealth in the world for her intact home life.
Her parents had immigrated from Mexico with nothing. Her dad had worked on the farms for years, arduous labor to provide for his family. But he’d always made time for his kids, no matter what. He’d attended every Ballet Folklórico dance performance that Carolina was in, and every night listened to her talk about her day. Though he could never help her with her homework, he’d supported her educational dreams.
Admittedly, she had recently started to question her father’s rules. Her independence and education had afforded her the ability to think for herself and question old principles. And lately, she couldn’t help being more combative with her papá. She wanted to challenge his ideologies and stop him from treating his wife and daughters as his property.
But she hadn’t made much progress.
“Well, mija, maybe not. But you have to wonder if him showing up before Christmas is a sign from the Lord. I have prayed for a man like him to come into your life.”
Carolina swallowed. She didn’t want to admit it... but she had prayed for him, too.
Chapter Five
Enrique sat on the redwood deck overlooking the ocean on Butterfly Beach in Montecito. He loved it up here. It was so different from San Diego. The coast was rockier, and the hills had wildflowers. Sea anemones and starfish dotted the sand and shiny rocks, and a glorious whale danced in the distance. The waves were rougher, the water cooler.
Then again, he thought everywhere along the California coast was magical.
