Northwest Romantic Comedies: Boxed Set Books 1-6

by Lia London

  Zaira pulled away from him with obvious reluctance. “Okay, hija. You want to see Carlos and Emi now?”

  Gabriela answered with a shake of the keys.

  Zaira lowered her voice in a conspiratorial tone. “Any chance the three of them could disappear for a while and leave us under the mistletoe?”

  Antonio closed his eyes and willed his body not to leap at the idea. “I think—not saying I want—but I think we’re going to need a chaperone.”

  “Oh?” The lilt in her voice and her coy expression stoked the need to draw a line.

  Cupping her cheeks, he held his forehead to hers. “Don’t tempt me. I’m only human.”

  “You’re not human. You’re an angel or something.”

  Antonio drew a deep breath and mentally ordered his hormones to stand down. “Z, we need to slow down. Not because I want to but because I don’t want to.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “Let’s do this right, and make sure we know what we’re doing. If we go too fast … I don’t want to mess up anything between us. I … I love you too much.”

  His face clouded with the memory of the girl in the storage room all those years ago. The awkward passion, the boyish triumph he’d felt … all crushed moments later by the realization that his selfish actions had led to the death of his father and beloved sister. He wondered now if he could ever be intimate without having flashbacks of the horror. Desire and remorse raged within him, and he had to look away from Zaira’s questioning eyes.

  Zaira let her forehead drop against Antonio’s chest, and she stared at her bare toes on the cold linoleum. He loved her too much to want her? Didn’t the two go hand-in-hand? Couldn’t he feel her desire for him? Her desire that was linked to admiration, respect, appreciation … love.

  Before she could think of a response, Antonio stepped away and took Gabi’s hand. “Okay, hija. If you’re coming to my house, you need some shoes on. It’s cold out there.”

  “Right. Let’s get dressed.” Zaira switched to automatic pilot mode and readied herself for the day, trading the flannel pajamas for jeans and a hot pink hooded sweatshirt. When she paused in front of the mirror to fix her hair, her nostrils flared. Antonio had been kissing a dingy old mop. Her black locks tumbled in unruly thick strands, and her skin stood in desperate need of cosmetic enhancements. No wonder he’d been able to cool his jets so quickly.

  By the time she emerged from her bedroom, Antonio had managed to bundle Gabriela into several layers of clothing and a coat. “I think I got all the essentials in the diaper bag, but you’ll probably need to check. I didn’t have to do that stage of life with my brothers because my mom was still around.”

  Zaira noticed a momentary sadness in his expression before he poked Gabi’s cheeks gently to make her giggle. For a moment, she watched them playing as Gabriella grabbed his finger and pretended to bite it, and then he did the same in return. They always ended up planting baby kisses on each other’s palms instead, and Zaira ached at the sweet innocence of it. Antonio would be a wonderful father to Gabi.

  “I’m ready, if you are,” she said, voicing thoughts she knew he wouldn’t take in context.

  “Okay.” He scooped up two crumpled presents wrapped in glossy snowman paper. “Don’t want to forget these.”

  They crossed the street together, Antonio carrying his gifts and Gabi, and Zaira carrying the diaper bag and a confused heart. Did he want her or not? Was he drifting away like Mateo had?

  Antonio opened his front door a crack and bellowed inside. “Boys, there are ladies present. Please be sure you are decent and don’t stink.”

  “You mean more than Gabi’s pull-ups?” quipped Carlos, tugging the door wide open. “Hey, Z. Hey, Gabi.” He reached for the eager toddler. “Merry Christmas, princesa. Want to see our tree?”

  Emilio emerged from the bathroom, his hair sticking up in every direction, and his eyelids still sagging with sleep. “Oh, hi, Z. Merry Christmas!”

  Zaira laughed. “You mean you weren’t up at dawn opening presents?”

  Emilio answered with a yawn. “We each only get one big present each year, and I’m 99% sure mine is the Beyblade arena I’ve been asking for.” He pointed to a sloppily wrapped oval package.

  Zaira snickered. “I see what you mean. And that one is one of those hoverboards, huh?”

  Antonio tossed the two presents in his hands into the air. “Okay, so I don’t know how to wrap things to hide what they are!”

  “Whoa now!” Zaira laughed. “I don’t know what these are. They’re soft and squishy, but that could be anything.”

  Antonio waved his hand towards the sofa. “Take off your shoes and stay for a while. Make yourselves at home.”

  Suppressing a wishful thought, Zaira soaked in every detail of the Seneca home. For a house with three boys in it, it was clean and only a little cluttered. The soft blues and grays appealed to her, and as she drank in each person’s face, she sighed within herself. How could she feel so much affection so quickly for this family? She’d barely known them for a month, yet it felt like they’d known each other for years.

  “Aren’t you going to sit?” Antonio’s hand tugged gently at hers, guiding her to a spot next to him. “I picked out something very special for both of you.”

  Her eyes widened, and she spoke through a tight smile. “Something special I can open in front of the boys?”

  “Oh my gosh!” Carlos jumped onto the couch beside them. “Did you get her sexy lingerie or something? I want to see.”

  Antonio spluttered. “No!”

  “What’s a launcher ray?” asked Emilio, dropping to sit cross legged on the floor before him. “Can I open it?” He picked up the present labeled for Zaira.

  “No!” squealed Zaira, snatching it back playfully. She leaned into Antonio. “It’s not, right?”

  “What?” His face was a picture of exaggerated innocence. “A launcher ray? No.”

  She punched him gently. “What then?”

  Antonio’s eyebrows danced. “Something for you to wear when it gets hot.”

  “Wait, what?” Carlos reached for the present. “Now I totally have to see this! Are you going to model it for us?”

  “Back off!” Zaira beat Carlos back with the present, giggling.

  Between them, they tore off the paper, and a wad of cloth fell onto her lap. It was definitely not lingerie. Much too thick. Picking it up with her fingertips, she unfolded it and then rocked back with laughter. “An apron!”

  “An apron!” Carlos huffed in disappointed disgust. “That’s lame.”

  “Hey, I owed her one,” said Antonio. He grinned at Zaira. “It’s reversible. Check it out.”

  Zaira stood and held it up to her chest, reading upside down. One side was white with red cursive letters declaring, Kiss the Cook.”

  Emilio’s lips pursed, and he let out the childish siren. “Ooooh! Antonio and Zaira kissing in the kitchen!”

  Blushing, Zaira turned it over to the blue side with white block letters that warned, Don’t Distract Me. I’m Making Magic. “That’s adorable, A. Thank you!” She sat back down beside him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, the first display of affection the boys would have witnessed.

  Carlos and Emilio reacted with a perfect blend of shock, amusement, and the need to get as far away from the kissy faces as possible. As they redirected their attention on helping Gabi unwrap her gift, Zaira glanced at the sticker that labeled the wrapping paper of her present. In Antonio’s neat handwriting, it said With Love from A to Z. She let her thumb slide over the word love, drawing a little heart.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s like a legit princess dress!” Carlos stood up, holding aloft Gabi’s Christmas present.

  Zaira stared at the ruffled gold and white dress that any fairy godmother would be proud to concoct. “Wow! That thing is great!” She beamed at Antonio. “Why such a fancy dress?”

  He shrugged. “Well, she didn’t get to
be a flower girl, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be the best dressed baby at the ball.”

  “She could totally wear this to the wedding.” Even as she said it, Zaira realized she wanted to leave Gabi at home with the boys and just go with Antonio alone. But would he feel like that was too much emotional pressure. Wedding dates could be awkward. She chewed her lip and decided to make that decision on the day of the event. She had time to decide.

  Emilio looked at Zaira with wide, expectant eyes. “Did you … get anything for us?”

  Zaira sagged into the couch cushion. “I did not. But I was planning on baking fancy cookies to bring over to you guys. Maybe we could do that here?”

  “Score!” Emilio high-fived Carlos. “Cookies and good company!”

  Tears leapt to Zaira’s eyes at the young boy’s sweetness. “Let me go grab my recipe book, and you can pick out which kinds you want. We’ll make tons, okay?” She smirked at Antonio and hooked her apron over her neck. “I’ll wear my hot lingerie while we bake, huh?”

  Antonio chuckled and stroked her hair. “Sounds like a perfect Christmas Day.”

  Everything about the rest of the day filled Zaira with joy. The Senecas and the Vasquezes baked and played card games and watched a marathon of classic Christmas movies, and everything about it felt like a dream come true. This Christmas was everything the year before had not been, and more than once, she caught herself blinking back tears of happiness.

  Only as she tucked Gabi into bed that night and replayed the day one more time in her memory did she notice something that made her stomach pinch. Not once had Antonio initiated a kiss or an embrace. There had been no fireworks in his eyes despite the laughter and friendly conversation. A casual observer could have mistaken them for siblings, not potential lovers.

  Was he just shy in front of the boys?

  Or was he serious about pulling back and slowing down on their road to romance.

  Climbing into bed, she rubbed her chilly toes together and wondered if Antonio had cold feet about their relationship.

  Chapter 9 ~ Not Making the Grade

  Antonio frowned at the digital report card on the TaftParentView website. “Explain to me how you got a D on your project. It pulled your whole grade down, Carlos.”

  Carlos matched Antonio’s expression and added a pair of folded arms. “If you’ll remember, every time I asked you for help, you were busy with Z.”

  Antonio bit down on a retort and thumbed the throbbing place beneath his brows. “I think I remember you asking for help a grand total of twice in the last month, and both times it was totally not possible to help.”

  “I asked you for help on my project, and you said you couldn’t!” protested Carlos.

  “On New Year’s Eve, when I went on the date you insisted I have with Zaira. Don’t even put this all on me.”

  “Well, you usually nag me to do my homework more. You forgot.”

  Antonio’s heel bounced against the chair leg with agitation. Why were tweens so quick to blame everyone else for their own laziness?

  “Maybe if you weren’t trying to score with the hot mamacita across the street, I could get some stuff done. But you’ve got me babysitting half the time.”

  “You’re getting paid for it, and I thought you liked Gabi—”

  “Once in a while. Not every day.”

  “You’d spend that much time playing video games if I let you.”

  Carlos threw his hands in the air. “If this wrecks my GPA, I’m not going to be eligible to play soccer in the spring.”

  Antonio rubbed his temple. “Okay, okay. We’ll get it figured out. Just … study hard so you can pull this grade back up. I promise I’ll help.”

  “What about Gabi?”

  “I’ll talk to Z.” That wasn’t going to go over well. He was pretty sure Zaira didn’t know anyone else in town she could trust to babysit at the rate she was paying. With a heavy sigh, he snatched his coat from the hook by the door. “Can I trust you to work on your homework now?” He gave Carlos a pointed look. “I’m going to go over and talk to Z about this.”

  “Why can’t you just call her?”

  “What is your problem?” Antonio dropped his hands in exasperation. “I’m trying to go get you out of babysitting. I don’t want to do it over the phone.”

  “Why not? Because you can’t grab her—”

  “Callate!” bellowed Antonio. “Don’t you dare talk like that. I’m not doing anything with Zaira. I’m showing her respect.” He pulled his coat on with exaggerated movements, his eyes locked on Carlos. “Respect, Carlos. It’s something you could try. It’s treating people how you want to be treated.”

  Carlos sneered. “Well, I’d want someone that hot to do all kinds of things to me.”

  Antonio shook his head. “That self-serving attitude about relationships isn’t going to find you true love, you know.” He zipped up the coat and lowered his tone. “As for why I’m going over there, I would not want bad news delivered over the phone.”

  Carlos stared at the floor before lifting a scowl. “Fine.”

  Antonio ground his teeth and spoke in a low growl. “How about you remember I’m doing this for you? I’m getting you out of this, so you can get good grades, so you can play soccer, so you can be happy. How about you remember I do everything for you, and I get nothing back, no time for myself, no fun with friends or anything except the little time I spend with Z. How about you remember that?” He strode out, slamming the door behind him.

  For a moment, he stood shuddering at the adrenaline in his system. He hated fighting with his brothers, but it seemed to be happening more with Carlos lately. Pulling up his hood, he squinted through the darkness at Zaira’s door. How on earth could he find a good way to tell her Carlos wouldn’t be available to babysit anymore? Emilio was too young to do it by himself.

  His steps through the splashing January rain soaked a cold resolve into his skin. He needed to put the boys first, as much as he loved being with Zaira and found her company both invigorating and relaxing.

  Zaira answered only seconds after he knocked, and her face immediately bloomed into a broad, beautiful smile. “Well, hello there.” She waved him inside. “What a pleasant surprise. I don’t usually get to see you on a Monday night.” Before he could respond, she slipped her hands up and tugged his hood down. “You look like you need a hug or more.” Pulling herself up onto her toes, she kissed him.

  Antonio’s head and body reeled. He knew what he had to tell her, but having this electric moment alone with her… The kiss deepened, and he moaned at the conflict.

  “Oooh. Aren’t you Mr. Passion tonight?” The sexy lift of her voice stopped his breath and sent waves of heat through him.

  “I … Uh.” He licked his lips and gently pressed her back a pace. The sizzle in her eyes told him he could have her right now if he wanted her. And he did.

  But that wasn’t the reason for his visit.

  With a strangled noise, he side-stepped her and glanced around the room. “Where’s Gabi?”

  Zaira ran her fingers up his arm and leaned close to whisper in his ear. “Sleeping very soundly.” She squeezed him with a beckoning smile. “Very. Soundly.”

  Antonio’s mouth went dry even as other parts of his body expressed a keen interest in taking her up on her implied offer. His voice came out almost panting. “Z, I …”

  “The couch is nice and cozy.” She unfastened his coat and smoothed her hands up his chest. In a sensuous move, she slid the jacket from his shoulders and pivoted him around. With a gentle push, she seated him on the corner of the sofa and settled herself across his lap. She tickled a spot behind his ears and nuzzled her nose into his chin. “Now wouldn’t it be wonderful to come home from work every day to this?”

  Antonio brushed his cheek over hers, relishing the feel of her.

  “Hmm?” she prompted with a saucy note.

  Antonio gurgled involuntarily, intoxicated by her nearness. He’d come here for a reason. Why c
ouldn’t he remember it? “Carlos…”

  “And Emilio and Gabriela get along so well, don’t they? It’s like their siblings.”

  “Gabi!” A shiver straightened his spine. That’s why he had come. “Z, we’ve got a problem.”

  Zaira sobbed into her pillow. How could she have been so stupid? There she’d been throwing the heaviest hints about moving their relationship to the next level, and he’d frozen up immediately and made up some dumb excuse about why they had to pull back. As if a smart kid like Carlos could be bombing any of his courses! Surely, Antonio just didn’t want to be around her as much. And now she didn’t even have a babysitter for her shift at La Casa.

  “Even your dad didn’t want you,” she shouted into the pillow, pounding the bed with her feet. “Neither do I.” First her father, then Mateo, and now… Antonio may not have used those words, but wasn’t the meaning the same? He didn’t want commitment.

  How on earth could she face him at La Casa now? She’d have to keep the door to the Clinica shut. Zaira cursed herself for opening up her heart in the first place.

  The pillow only half muffled her self-pitying cries, and a moment later, Gabi’s waking yowl joined her in making sounds of distress. Instead of trying to quiet her baby, she lifted her daughter from the crib. Holding her tight, she slumped to the floor and leaned against the wall where the two of them cried together until Gabi fell back to sleep.

  Stiff and tired, Zaira managed to get herself up off the floor and settle Gabriela into her crib without waking her. In the dark apartment, she shuffled towards the thermostat in the hall and cranked it up. With no one to snuggle in bed, winter nights were so cold and lonely.

  A part of her wondered if she would have felt the loneliness as much if she hadn’t experienced a brief feeling of family with Mateo. For almost two years, she had believed it might be love.

  But no. Mateo had been more persuasive than attractive, and definitely more of a taker than a giver. His tenderness had vanished with the appearance of the second pink line on the pregnancy test. He’d demanded she abort, and she’d promised she would, but her relationship with her father haunted her. When he abandoned Zaira and her mother, she’d been emotionally tossed into the garbage. How could she literally throw away her own child as unwanted? She refused to pay that coldness forward.