I look at him in horror.
“That’s what it is?”
He nods, confirming. “I’ve had that before. It tastes…” I look for the right word. “Salty.”
He nods again, agreeing.
“Yep, I agree. Definitely salty.”
Suddenly, all the saliva floods my mouth, and not in a good way. I need to change the conversation. I don’t have to wait as the server at the window repeats our orders. Mateo looks over at her, winking, and I see the blush forming on her cheeks.
“Here you go, boys, and I threw in something extra.”
I grab the bags, hand them to Mateo, and thank her for the food.
“Do you want to know what tripas are?”
I hold my hand up, halting this conversation. “Definitely not.”
He laughs loudly, slapping his leg. Tears spring from the edges of his eyes as he fights back the fit of laughter.
“Save it. I’m so done. If it tastes good, that’s all I need to know.”
He tightens his hold on my shoulder as he slaps my back while I am driving. “Bro, welcome to the family.”
I smile. Indeed.
We walk through the door with the bags. Evie and Emma come over to take them from us. They unpackage everything, and I see Evie frown. I look over at what she is holding, and she lifts a paper.
“Sylvia?” she reads. “What the fuck is this?” She looks at me, and I feel like taking her against the counter in response to her outright act of jealousy.
I find it to be such a turn-on, knowing that the thought of another woman flirting with me consumes her with fury. I already know my little vixen has a temper, and I’d love to test it out, but maybe without an audience this time.
Unless, of course, it is back at Eduardo’s club in a voyeur room.
I inwardly moan at the thought of angry sex with Evie, if it is anything to go by that night we shared back at his club. I shake my head, blocking that thought because if anyone else saw her naked, I’d have to gouge their eyes out.
I realize I have zoned out and laugh.
Evie is still staring at me, assessing and, no doubt, plotting my demise. “It’s not mine,” I reply, lifting my hands in surrender. “Ask your brother.”
She looks at Mateo, who seems unfazed by her dramatics. He rolls his eyes. I guess that’s what happens when you live together for a while. He reaches her, snatching the paper out of her hands, and quickly shoves the paper napkin into his pocket.
“For a rainy day,” he remarks absently. “Now, let’s eat.”
We sit around the island like last night, but it’s time for breakfast and coffee instead of tequila and limes. I look over at Eduardo, who is striding into the kitchen, freshly showered and ready to start his day of mafia dealings. Now that everyone is on the same page, there is no use in sugarcoating anything.
Eduardo is eating his tacos, and he moans around the food. “I love when my tripas are extra crispy.”
Mateo snorts. “I know, but don’t tell Jamesy here what it is. He doesn’t want to know.” His hands are raised in a halting motion, and he is not attempting to hide his mocking tone.
I look at my plain bacon, egg, and cheese taco, shrugging off the comment. “Some things are better left unsaid.”
“Agree.” Eduardo laughs, knowing my sensitive palate full well. “It’s bad enough that I discovered Evie ordered cow tongue tacos.” I place my food down, taking a big swig of orange juice.
“You said you liked my tacos.” She looks at me, puzzled, and dare I say offended.
“I do, but they are salty.”
