I watched them from the kitchen while I was stuck in a ’90s sitcom, the unwanted extra in the background. I caught every word in Spanish, but the punchlines still missed me. Nina didn’t miss them, though. She laughed until she coughed, hand half over her mouth, her rescue inhaler burning in my pocket even though Diego was the one leaning close to check on her before I even moved.
One by one, the Camachos left the way they came—loud hugs, kisses on cheeks, and a whole lot of noise that lit Nina’s eyes up. Diego left somewhere between sister one and four after murmuring something in Nina’s ear that got him a nod and me a shifty glance. I followed him to the door, playing host in an apartment I didn’t live in, revving myself up for niceties I didn’t feel like giving.
“Just so you know,” I said, leaning against the doorframe, my voice low enough that Nina wouldn’t hear, “she’s still recovering, it’ll be a while before she can go out and about. I’m not going to let anybody, especially you, wear her out.”
Diego’s mouth curved into a slow, infuriating grin. “Relax, man. Nina and I are moving at a different speed…” The pause hung just long enough to set my teeth on edge. “But thanks for the heads-up.” He clapped my shoulder once and strolled down the hall, fixing up his bun, without waiting for a reply.
Carmen was the last one lingering. The apartment smelled of Nina’s comfort food, and while she rested, Carmen helped me tetris all the food away, then the fridge was crammed full enough to feed us for a week. She gave Nina one last side hug, whispering something, while I stood waiting to see her out.
I opened the door for Carmen, then leaned against the door for a beat, exhaling, wondering why it seemed I’d lost a competition. Her curls bounced as she looked over her shoulder my way before turning toward the elevator.
“Hey, Linc.” Carmen’s gaze pinned me, her mouth already curving, knowing exactly where to dig and how to tease. “We Camachos pick up strays. There’s room for two, you know?”
My jaw locked, fingers biting into the edge of the door. “I’m not a charity case,” I said, voice edgier than I intended. “And I’m sure as hell not Nina’s boyfriend’s family.”
Carmen threw her head back and laughed, a full-bodied, delighted sound that scraped every sharp line I had. “Oh, Linc.” She wiped tears from her eyes, still grinning. “You’re reading it all wrong.”
She sauntered off, leaving me standing there with my pulse hammering in my ears. I shut the door harder than necessary, even when it was clear she’d had the last word.
“Hey…” Nina’s voice trailed from the couch. “Come back.”
My jacket and the manila folder on top of it had been shifted to the armchair, so I grabbed the envelope and sat next to her.
“We keep getting interrupted,” she said.
“Good things come to those who wait.” I flashed my dimples. “You still feel up to hearing this?”
She nodded.
I pulled out the papers from my lawyer. “You don’t have to take Silas up on anything,” I said. “I’ll give you the money.”
Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “What?”
“I want to invest in you, Nina. This firm, studio, collective, what you’re building, I want to back it. I want to backyou. No strings. No percentages.” I handed her the paperwork to transfer the investments my mom had set up for me.
She blinked at me, lips pressing into a thin line. “Lincoln, you don’t even know if I got that pitch?—”
“Iknow.” I kept my tone steady, even though my chest was tight. “You heard Silas. And even if you hadn’t, I had these drawn before I knew. You’re the smartest, most stubborn woman I’ve met. Silas and those fuckers don’t get to rope you back in. With this, you stay yours, no one gets to own you.” I swallowed because she was going over the numbers and wasn’t saying anything. “There’s more than enough for you to have medical insurance, Nina.”
She reviewed the papers back and forth, tracing my black-inked signature with her index finger. She stared at me, weighing the offer, and her face kept her composure even when glassiness flickered in her eyes.
Slowly, softly, she whispered, “What if I wanted more. What if I wanted a partner in this thing I’m building?”
I closed my eyes. I’d known she might want that—someone ready to go fifty-fifty with her. But I wasn’t that person. There’s no way she’d want that from me.
“I’d help you find someone. With BrightMark, Nina. We’ll find you someone.”
She clicked her tongue. “I’m still going to need a graphic designer…”
“You’ll have a list of names tomorrow. No sweat. You can do this.”
She smiled and shook her head. “You’re not following.” She held my hand in hers. “What if I wantedyouto do this with me?”
I froze, a stunned laugh breaking out of me before I could stop it. Air had been sucker punched right out of me and left my ribs aching, raw and alive. I’d just been handed back pieces of myself I’d destroyed when I thought she’d rejected me.
“I’d say you can have me in any way you want me. And I’d work the hardest I ever have not to fail you again.”
Her thumb brushed over my knuckles, and her lips curved. Not just a smile, but something lighter, freer, and it tugged at my soul as if she’d just let me into some secret corner of her heart.
