Page 22 of His Secret Wish

Claudia nodded emphatically, Marissa a little less so.

“Two cinnamon rolls, coming right up.” She turned to the pan of finished rolls. They were still warm enough for the icing to melt into all the nooks and crannies, but cool enough that she didn’t have to worry about any of them burning themselves. “Would you like one, Yaya?”

“No, thank you, mi tesoro. I already ate.” Yaya bustled around the kitchen, making more food. She really should be sitting and relaxing, but to even suggest such a thing would get Isabella swatted with the towel again.

Isabella grabbed some small plates and dished up three of the rolls. Her experience in working in the diner and serving food always came in handy in these situations. She balanced the plates in her hands and headed over to the table.

When she placed each of the rolls in front of the girls, she thought their eyes were going to pop out of their heads. The rolls were huge and dripping with icing.

“Thank you,” Claudia said, although the words came out as a breathy rush.

Marissa glanced from the cinnamon roll, to Isabella, and then back again. “For me?” Her voice was a little squeak, and it was so freaking cute Isabella could hardly stand it.

“Yup,” Isabella said, taking a seat in front of her own roll. “It all for you.” She broke off a piece of her roll and popped it in her mouth. The cinnamon was warm and inviting, the dough as soft as a cloud. She moaned, unable to hold back the sound. It had been far too long since she’d had Yaya’s baking. She was going to savor every bite this weekend. Even if it meant she put on a few extra pounds. It wasn’t like she had anyone to impress.

Again, not that she cared what anyone else thought of her body. It was none of their business. It was just depressing that she didn’t have anyone who could appreciate the extra junk in her trunk.

She pushed those thoughts out of her head and focused on the girls in front of her. They’d both dived in with both hands. Literally. Claudia had icing all over her fingers of both hands, and a smudge of the sticky cinnamon insides on her cheek. Marissa had everything everywhere. But she also had the biggest smile Isabella had ever seen on her face.

Yaya turned on the radio, and the room filled with quiet salsa music. Isabella’s shoulders started to move on their own, almost like they couldn’t not when they heard the beat. The girls’ heads bobbed, and they giggled. Yaya’s step had a jauntiness to it that had been missing before. It was almost like a secret breakfast party.

“I see I’m missing out when I sleep in.”

Isabella turned in her chair at the sound of Owen’s deep, sleep rumpled voice. He stood at the base of the stairs, looking just as yummy as the cinnamon roll on her plate. His hair was all over the place, his cheeks still a touch rosy. He wore a dark gray tank top and a pair of black and gray striped sleep pants.

“Good morning, hermoso.” Yaya finished rolling out the dough and began spreading it liberally with butter.

“Morning, Yaya.” He wandered over and placed a kiss on her cheek. It was super sweet.

“Here, have some café.” Yaya pulled a mug out of the cupboard and handed it to him.

“Thanks,” he said, grabbing the mug and pouring himself a cup of coffee. He leaned against the counter and took a sip.

Isabella felt incredibly self-conscious all of a sudden, like he was watching her for some reason. Of course, she and the girls were the only people in the room. She took another bite of her cinnamon roll. Somehow, the zest had worn off the cozy little breakfast party they’d had going on. Which was silly, but she couldn’t deny the feeling in the air.

“I’m going to take this out on the back porch.” Without waiting for a reply, Owen turned and walked out the back door.

Isabella sighed and popped the last bite of cinnamon roll into her mouth. Why did everything with him have to be so hard? Sometimes, things were smooth as silk and they fell back into old habits, just like old times. And then others, like this morning, were fraught with so much tension, it was practically a living, breathing thing.

“Could you all do something to help me out?” Yaya was spreading the cinnamon sugar mix on the dough. This was her fourth pan of rolls, but given the number of people packed into the house and yard—there were campers and RVs parked all over the property—they’d probably all be long gone before noon. “I need someone to go and feed the gallinas.”

“Ooh,” Isabella said, clapping her hands and glancing between Claudia and Marissa. “Do you want to help me feed the chickens?”

“Yes,” Claudia said, her excitement making her voice sharp.

Marissa nodded enthusiastically, her dark curls bouncing.

“Great.” Isabella grabbed her plate and then leaned across the grab the girls’. Neither of them had finished a whole roll, which was understandable. She probably could have given them each half of one, but where was the fun in that. “Let’s get cleaned up and then we’ll go.”

Claudia jumped to her feet and raced to the downstairs bathroom. Marissa stood and went to follow her sister.

“Let me help you, Marissa.” Isabella tossed what was left of the buns, and placed the dirty plates in the dishwasher.

Marissa stopped and turned to stare at her. There was a trepidation in her gaze, which was heartbreaking. She was far too young to be so wary. After a moment, she came over to Isabella. She had icing and sticky syrup all over her face and hands. It was seriously the cutest thing ever.

Isabella grabbed a wet cloth and wiped the little girl’s hands and face. “There’s that pretty face.”

Marissa gave her that same shy, sweet smile from earlier, and ducked her head. Without thinking. Isabella leaned down and pressed a kiss on her head. Her curls smelled like bubblegum. So cute.