“I don’t know. Blanca hasn’t even texted back.”
“Well, you just texted her. Give it time.”
“That’s like the fourth text I’ve sent today.”
Enrique was trying to help her stay positive, but it was pretty obvious her parents were not budging. But even Blanca? “There has to be an explanation. It’s Christmas. Maybe they are busy.”
Carolina shook her head. “We don’t celebrate on Christmas—we give gifts on Christmas Eve. They are ignoring me.”
Enrique’s stomach clenched. Their courtship might’ve ended Carolina’s relationship with her family. Forever.
A photographer approached them. “Can I take your photo?”
“Sure.” Carolina stood, a forced smile on her face.
Enrique hoped he could take her mind off her family. He finished his churro and then stood up.
Enrique and Carolina posed, and after the first flash, Enrique wrapped an arm around her waist, dipped her back, and captured her mouth in a Disney-worthy kiss. Someone wolf whistled, but when they straightened up and he saw the smile on Carolina’s face, heard the laughter from her lips, he felt...love. This was magical. This was perfect.
She was perfect.
He twirled her around one more time and she stared intently at the dancers.
“I wonder how they find their dancers?” she asked.
Enrique shrugged. “No idea. Have you ever wanted to dance professionally?”
She nodded. “Yeah, as a little girl. But I was always focusing on school and the farm.”
He held her close to him. “Carolina, you’re young. It’s never too late. You could find out and possibly dance with them.”
She shook her head. Her brow furrowed and she placed a finger on her cheek.
“That would be crazy. I didn’t go to college to be a professional dancer.”
“No, you went to college to grow as a person. To learn how to think for yourself. To expand. You would’ve never accomplished what you did with your farm or at those speaking events without college.” He wanted to make her understand that she didn’t have to spend the rest of her life doing what she was supposed to do. “And now you’re questioning everything because you see things differently. Your family’s traditions, what you want in life, what makes you happy.”
“You’re right.” Her face tilted toward him. “I honestly don’t think I could be a dancer, but maybe I could do something different with the farm. Or start another one.”
“You could be anything. You know, Ramón wanted to be a musician; Jaime wanted to play professional soccer. Both were great, but my father wouldn’t hear of it. They were both expected to go into the family business. Like I was. And who knows? Maybe they would’ve failed... but what’s wrong with going after your dreams?” He paused. “I never found a true passion like they had, though I’ve always liked to cook. And grow things. For me, the most important thing was to live my life with no regrets and try to be a good person. And be happy. My parents were so miserable. And for years Ramón was stuck on this endless cog. He was a workaholic just like my father. But I didn’t want that. I just wanted happiness. And peace. And love.”
She placed her hand on his face and kissed him, his stubble grazing her cheek. “You’re truly exceptional, do you know that? I’ve literally never imagined a man as kind as you. This has been the best night of my life.”
He smirked. “Well, it’s not over yet.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Enrique booked a room for them at the Grand Californian. Carolina didn’t even want to know how much it cost but was certain it was a near fortune—this place truly was grand like its name.
It reminded her of the Ahwahnee lodge in Yosemite, a place she had visited only once when her parents had taken the girls camping. She hadn’t stayed there, just been inside the lobby, but she remembered it vividly. Just like there, this hotel had a rustic vibe with a huge ceiling, a massive Christmas tree, and Craftsman-style architecture. There were wreaths everywhere and it even smelled like fresh pinewood. The scent made her giddy—or maybe that was Enrique’s pheromones.
Carolina had gone from never being alone with a man to staying in her third hotel room. She felt like she was on her honeymoon.
But they were not married.
All her emotions swirled inside of her. Love, lust, desire—years of pent-up and repressed feelings. She had once convinced herself that she didn’t desire sex and would never meet the right guy. That she was somehow above it. And then she met Enrique.
There went that theory.
