Nacho:
Charlie:
Laughing, I sneak another look at the picture. Nacho is right. Ant’s eyes are bright and shiny, and his smile is easy and genuine. I rub my chest and try to soak in the moment.
“What are you smiling at?” Ant whispers.
I angle my phone so he can read the exchange, and he silently laughs.
“What are you two laughing at?” Abuela asks.
“Shit, abort.Abort,” I hiss, biting back my smile.
Ant lays his forehead on my shoulder, convulsing with laughter. “You are afraid of Abuela.”
“Am not.”
“You’re so terrified it’s adorable.”
“No, I’m not.”
He stretches over and kisses my jaw. “I love you so much, you dork,” he giggles. Then goes very, very still. Ant slinks back into his chair. “Sorry,” he whispers.
The conversation continues around us, so I grab his hand, kissing the back of it. His eyes slowly lift to mine, genuine fear in them. Mm. That’s on me. For now, I whisper, “No takebacks.”
He blinks, then flushes, his smile returning full force. Keeping his hand in mine, we remain seated around the breakfast table for at least another hour, chatting and, yes, eating every bit of those chilaquiles. Even with the gentle ribbing about my accent, everyone is genuinely kind and encouraging. Spanish will never flow easily off my tongue, but at least I’m much more comfortable with the vocabulary.
Afterward, Ant, Gael, and I send Yaya and Abuela to the living room, declaring we will be doing the cleaning up. Abuela comes over and gestures for me to lean down so she can give me a kiss on the cheek. Grandma kisses are the best stuff on earth.
Ant and I take care of the dishes while Gael clears the table and wipes down the countertops. When he goes to take out the trash, Ant turns to me with a hand on his hip.
“Yes?” I ask, amused and pretty sure I know what he’s about to say.
“You didn’t say it back.”
Called it.
“Didn’t say what back?” I ask, grinning like a jackass.
“You know.”
“Idoknow. But that’s not the kind of thing you blurt out at a table or say in a kitchen with water spots on your shirt. You say it privately, over a romantic dinner. You give it a sense of occasion.”
Narrowing his eyes, Ant bites back a smile as he mutters, “You jack—”
He stops mid-sentence, his eyes widening as they track to the front of the house.
“Gael!”he screamsat the top of his lungs, grabbing Abuela’s good kitchen knife before running flat out.
With no idea what’s happening, I grab a couple of knives and shout for Javier. By the time I turn to follow, Ant is at the front door. I look through the big picture window as two men put their hands on Gael.
Javier comes pounding down the steps, gun in hand. By the time we make it out the door, the men are already shoving Gael into a waiting truck.
Gael regularly joins Ant in the self-defense classes he takes with Bram and Levy, and I can see it in how hard he’s fighting back. Ant throws his knife, hitting one of Gael’s assailants in the neck. It slows him down, and Gael takes the opportunity to kick the man in the knee.
Ant reaches blindly in my direction, and I put my knife in his hand. He tracks their movement, aiming for the second attacker. This time he hits his temple and the man goes down. We close the distance as Gael yanks the knife from the first attacker’s neck and draws it across his carotid artery.
Gael turns to us, stained by arterial spray and looking scared as hell. Just as he steps toward us, a burly arm reaches out from the driver’s seat and pulls him into the truck as it begins to roll. Terror fills Gael’s eyes, spiking my pulse. Ant rips the knife from his second victim’s temple and takes off, with Javier and me hot on his heels.
