“Yes, true.” She bridged the gap between them. “You also care enough about me to come deliver this news in person, no matter how hard it may be.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she quickly wiped the corners with the tip of her index fingers. Blinking, she nodded at him.
His gut clenched. “Of course I do, Mom.” Perhaps he wasn’t as involved with the family gatherings as Kostas and his other cousins, but he still loved his parents and worried about them. He pulled his mother into a hug, and she embraced him back, resting her head on his chest.
She withdrew from him, glancing at him as a crease formed between her eyebrows. “I care enough about you to cheer for your happiness too. Which is why I’ll tell you something that’ll make you mad at me.”
He crossed his arms. “Go on.”
“I asked Amaya to leave you when the time came. I don’t know exactly how things ended for the two of you, but since you’re being so honest, I can’t omit this part.”
“What do you mean, when the time came?”
“I asked her to do the right thing. Well, what I believed was the right thing.”
Could that have been why Amaya hadn’t gotten in touch with him? He scratched his chin, apprehension running hot and thick in his veins. No. Damn it, he’d made a mistake, too, and had to own up to it. If he hadn’t kept his discovery from her, maybe she’d still be with him.
“It’s okay. She left, but I was to blame. Thanks for sharing, though,” he said, doubting it’d been easy for his mom.
“You’re not…mad at me?”
“No. I’m tired of bullshit. I prefer straight talk.” He let his words sink in. Had he told Amaya how he felt about her? How he…loved her? No. He’d watched her leave, too scared to own up to his feelings.
Determination zapped through him. You know what you have to do. He kissed his mother’s forehead, then turned around and headed to the door.
“Wait. Where are you going?” she asked behind him.
He tossed her a look over his shoulder, then reached for the doorknob. “I’m going to do some straight talking of my own.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Hey, Amaya. Did you take care of table fifteen?” Gaby, a waitress in her forties, asked.
Amaya held up a tray filled with burgers and fries. “Almost done.”
When she’d told Samantha about working a couple weeks until her former boss found someone permanent to replace her at Joe’s Cafe, Samantha had laughed. She now didn’t need the money per se. But what Amaya had failed from mentioning was that she’d needed the distraction. Badly. She’d do anything to keep from thinking about Theo, like she had the past eight days.
Not even moving into the new place or all the time she spent with Diego filled that void in her heart. Madame Alexa had been cynical about love. Had it been because of personal experience?
Amaya served table fifteen, then, with an empty tray, spun on her heels to return to the kitchen. She couldn’t tell if she had been lucky or cursed to have fallen for Theo, but one thing rang true—she wouldn’t trade the moments with him for anything else.
“Amaya,” said a deep masculine voice she knew all too well.
She slapped her forehead. It’s already happening. I’m hearing voices and going crazy.
“Amaya.”
She turned around to find the man who had been haunting her thoughts a mere few feet from her. When he walked across the restaurant, people took notice of him, the women’s glances lingering on his fine ass. Wearing denim jeans and a black shirt, he almost looked casual—except, he wasn’t.
Her heart flipped, and she grasped the round silver tray against her chest. “Theo? What are you doing here?”
“I heard the food’s good, and the service is unmatched.”
Her stomach sank. Did he visit her just to make fun of her? She glanced at his hand, discreetly searching for a marriage band. None. Relief zapped through her. She loosened her grip on the tray and sat it on the counter. “Well, you can get a table, and I’ll assign someone to serve you.”
He pulled her to him, circling his hand around her waist. A gleam of hope lit the depths of his eyes. She gasped, her body getting used to the nearness of his. God. Her nipples puckered, and her breasts rose and fell in her white uniform top. “There’s no one else for me, Amaya. Only you.”
She plastered her hand on his chest to push him away and register his words, but the moment she touched his solid pecs, a strand of desire raced through her, leaving her lightheaded. She pulled him closer instead. “Wait a minute. What did you say?”
