Page 8 of His Secret Wish

The front door opened, and a petite, elderly woman walked onto the front porch. Her white hair was pulled back into a bun, and she had a colorful shawl wrapped around her. Her dress was white, bordered with bright embroidered flowers along the floor length hem. Wire-rimmed glasses were perched on the end of her nose.

Isabella jumped out of the truck and raced up the porch to pull her bisabuela into a tight hug. It had too long since she’d been here, since she’d seen this precious woman. Phone calls and the occasional video chat weren’t the same.

“Hello, Yaya.” Isabella’s voice went hoarse, the knowledge that this may be the last time she spent time with this precious woman smacking her in the face.

“Mi Tesoro.” Yaya squeezed her back, the strength in her hug belying the daintiness of her bones. “I’ve missed you.”

Isabella pulled back, blinking back the stupid tears that were threatening to fall. “I’ve missed you, too. I’m sorry I haven’t visited in a while. Things have been busy. And a bit chaotic.”

Yaya nodded, her dark eyes sparkling with kindness and mischief. “I get it. You have a life.” She glanced over Isabella’s shoulder, and a lovely smile broke out across her face. “And a very handsome husband.”

Isabella glanced behind her. Owen was walking up the porch steps, his bag slung over his shoulder, her suitcase clutched in his hand. The way his t-shirt pulled against his biceps and shoulders was completely distracting, and it took a couple of seconds before she realized she was actually ogling him. She shook her head and turned back to her bisabuela.

“Yeah, it’s super exciting.” Panic made her chest tight, her voice high and squeaky. Her cheeks caught fire at the lie. There was absolutely nothing exciting about her life, and Owen was her husband in name only. And once he signed the divorce papers, he wouldn’t even be that anymore.

That thought was far too disappointing to even contemplate right now.

Yaya laughed and patted Isabella on the arm, clearly thinking Isabella was talking about amorous activities. Not that she was ever having that conversation with Yaya. Like ever. The tips of her ears burned white hot at the thought.

Guilt gnawed on her insides like her family’s dog when she was given a soup bone. Part of her wanted to deny all of it, tell Yaya the truth about what was going on between her and Owen. How their relationship had disintegrated with every lost pregnancy, how they drifted farther and farther apart, until finally she couldn’t take it anymore and had moved out.

And because of that, it had been years since she’d been with anyone in the physical sense.

But her bisabuela didn’t know she and Owen were separated, and she wasn’t confessing, not after convincing Owen to come all this way with her. Besides, what she’d told Owen was true. Her bisabuela was an old-fashioned, very Catholic, woman at her core. In her world, divorce was an ugly word, and most likely a mortal sin. She’d never understand, and Isabella wasn’t going to make one of her last memories with Yaya an upsetting one. Best to just continue with the ruse like they’d planned.

“Come, come,” Yaya said, ushering her toward the front door. She could feel Owen at her back, his heat and proximity making her nerve endings crackle. She felt jumpy and nervous, and she wasn’t exactly sure why. She shook it off and threaded her arm through Yaya’s.

“I’m so glad we could come and celebrate with you, Yaya.” Her voice sounded more normal this time, which made her happy. Well, happier. She probably wouldn’t be happy until she was back in Redding with a couple of miles between her and Owen. Just being around him was wrecking havoc on her emotions.

And her hormones.

Which was highly concerning.

It had been an eternity time since she’d had sex. But normally, stuff like that didn’t bother her. Yes, sex was great, but she wasn’t a slave to her hormones. And when the itch arrived, she had a couple of toys in her nightstand that did the trick. No muss, no fuss.

But just being in the truck with him, the scent of his spicy aftershave wafting across the cab in her direction, had more than just her hormones sitting up and panting. The ache between her thighs had been intense, and there’d been nothing she could do about it. Falling asleep had been her only option. Aside from jumping his bones like a horny teenager.

Not that her nap had helped. Her out-of-control hormones had steered her brain in a rather sexy direction, and she’d dreamed of naked, sweaty bodies, with lots of touching and kissing and all of that. Her skin was still vibrating.

As soon as she and Yaya crossed the threshold, the murmur of voices and the hum of laughter sounded from the living room. Looked like they weren’t the first ones here. Not that she was surprised. Her family usually used any excuse to get together, and celebrating Yaya was always a particular favorite.

She stopped and slipped off her shoes, glancing behind her at Owen. He put down the bags and followed her lead, slipping his running shoes off and placing them off to the side. Then he took off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, making it messy. The urge to run her own fingers through his hair, smooth it down, overwhelmed her. She stuffed her hands in her pockets to stop from reaching for him.

They stood there awkwardly for a moment, just staring at each other in the narrow entry way. The tension was starting to ramp up again, but now she couldn’t quite decide if it was awkward or sexual. Stupid hormones confusing everything. She needed to get through this weekend without humiliating herself, which meant her libido needed to back the hell off.

Nothing more than a friend helping out a friend. Transactional, if you will.

Yes, because announcing that you wanted this weekend to exist outside of reality is really keeping things on a superficial level.

She pushed that thought aside, since it was completely unhelpful. It was only a couple of days. She could do this. Needed to do this.

Throwing everything into the wind, she held out her hand. He stared at it for a moment, confusion flashing in his gorgeous blue eyes.

“We’re a couple, remember?” She kept her voice low, just barely above a whisper. Yaya had wandered back into the living room, but that didn’t mean there weren’t plenty of ears hiding around the corner that would love nothing more than to hear some juicy gossip.

“Right,” he said, and swallowed hard. She didn’t quite understand his reaction, but she wasn’t about to delve too deeply into what it meant at the moment. She didn’t have enough bandwidth right now, especially since they were about to dive head first into the proverbial lion’s den. No rescue squad in sight.

And, honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what his reaction meant. Things between them were complicated enough already without throwing a bunch of assumptions into the mix.