Jake snorts. “It’s more of a crevice than a cave.”
Svetlana lifts her sunglasses to give him a sharp look.
Carla rolls her eyes. “It’s like Abuelita is suggesting a make-out point,” she mutters under her breath, garnering a snort from Jake.
Callie pretends not to hear her. “No, he hasn’t.”
“Oh, he should.” Mom tugs on my forearm, signaling I should show Callie the cave-cove-crevice right this second.
Sighing that my mother is trying to set me up, I rise to my feet. Good thing it’s the woman I want to be set up with. Extending my hand to Cal, I tilt my head down the beach to where the ocean waves created a little secret crevice in the seawall. “Want to take a walk?”
“Sure,” Callie says, standing to her feet.
“It’s almost painful to watch,” Jake murmurs.
“Jake,” Joe warns.
“Like a rom-com in slow motion,” Carla agrees.
“What’s a rom-com?” Ariella asks.
“You know those movies your mama and Tia Martina like to watch?” Pablo replies.
“The ones with the kissy-lips?” Ariella clarifies.
“Those are the ones,” Pablo laughs.
“Oh!” Ariella claps her hands together, glancing at me expectantly. As if I should wrap an arm around Callie, dip her in the center of the circle, and plant one on her.
“Ew.” Little Jorge wrinkles his nose.
Callie laughs good-naturedly, placing her hand in mine. Glancing over her shoulder, she tosses Carla and Jake a wink. “I’ll let you know if he does it right. That should earn at least another fifty bucks, right?”
Carla’s mouth drops open in horror. Pop laughs loudly while Joe swears.
I chuckle with Callie and pull her out of my family’s huddle on the beach.
As we take off toward the seawall, I glance at her. “Having fun yet?”
Her cheeks are pink, and her smile is wide. “This has been one of the best days, Gage. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I still have to kiss you. For the kids’ bet.”
“Right,” she agrees, laughing lightly. “Don’t want to lose a wager.”
I grin. “Don’t want to lose anything, Calla Lily.”
Chapter 6
Callie
I squeal as the water rushes over my ankles. It’s cold yet refreshing, a balm to my feverish skin. I feel warm partly from the sun’s rays beating down on me, but also from the feel of Gage’s hand in mine. The quips his family murmur with abandon. The glint in his eyes that tells me, they’re not just teasing.
But am I living in a fairy tale? The past twenty-four hours with Gage, on a beach in Spain, with his big, loud, loving family around us isn’t reality. At least, not for me.
Gage is a client. A football player.
Spain is a holiday destination. Even if I’m not truly on vacation.
