by Faith O'Shea
Rique was scoping out a place and zeroed in on an empty table back in the corner.
As Fiona shrugged out of her coat, she admonished, “It has nothing to do with getting here early, does it? You just have some kind of juju when it comes to partying.”
He kissed her neck and joked, “I don’t know why everyone ties me to the party scene. You’d think I was known for them or something.”
A waitress wandered over and gave both men a very thorough once-over.
With as much snippiness as she could supply, Allie said, “Don’t count on it. We came as couples and we’re going to leave as couples.” She pointed to Rique and Fiona. “As in her and him.” After she draped herself over Mateo, she added, “And me and this guy.”
She was instantly horrified by her possessiveness and her utter disdain, but she disliked the kind of woman who came on to attached men, almost as much as the men who made themselves available. She began to extricate herself from his body, but his hold tightened around her waist, not letting her go. As if to support her claim, he said, “We’re married. They’re engaged.”
It was only after she’d taken the orders and slunk away that Rique blurted out, “You’re married? Why didn’t I know this? Since when?”
Mateo gave her that sheepish look and said, “Oops.”
She dropped her head against his chest. She supposed it was just a matter of time before the last of his close friends knew, but she’d hoped it would come after tonight.
Fiona slapped at Rique’s shoulder and suggested, “Why don’t you offer them your congratulations instead of giving them the third degree?”
There was a look of mild shock on his face.
“They barely know each other.”
Fiona’s hands went to her hips. “And we’re what? Childhood sweethearts?”
Rique looked from his fiancée to his friend, still a bit unbalanced by the news. “I guess…it just happened so fast.”
Allie thought about what her father had said about love at first glance. Maybe he was right. Maybe that’s where it all started. You either let it grow or let it go.
Mateo pulled out the swivel chair and she sat. He took a seat next to her, placed his hand on her back.
Flustered, Allie said, “Look, not many people know. We’re trying to keep it quiet. My role with the team makes it a bit awkward.”
After making sure Fiona was settled, Rique sat across from them.
“When did it happen?”
“In Cancun.”
His eyes bulged. “That was months ago. How long are you planning on keeping it secret?”
She glanced up at Mateo, unsure about most everything now. “We’re living in today. We’ll worry about tomorrow if it comes.” She read something in the intensity of his eyes that made her melt. It almost looked like love.
The drinks arrived by way of a new server. Jose smiled as he set them down and asked, “Should I start a tab?”
Allie nodded. “That would be great. Thank you.”
She downed half the Painkiller she’d ordered. A combination of bold rum, orange, pineapple and coconut, it was a piña colada on steroids and just what she needed.
Rique pointed to her glass. “What the hell is that?”
She was the only one who’d gone the exotic drink route. Fiona was drinking something light and bubbly. The guys had beers.
“A drink I found in Puerto Rico on one of my trips down.”
“I didn’t even know you drank. You’re usually our teetotaler.”
It looked like she’d added another surprise on his plate. She smiled for the first time since Mateo had let their news slip.
“I have to stay sober when I’m with the players.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You are with the players.”
She took another sip of the concoction. It gave her the courage to admit, “One of whom is my…husband, one of whom is his friend. I either let him come to a place like this alone, which is not going to happen, or join you. I’d prefer the latter. Unfortunately, you’re going to have to take the Alvarez pledge if we go that way.”
Rique’s eyebrows arched. “The Alvarez pledge? What is that, exactly?”
“What goes on here stays here. No gossip, no tales out of school.”
She couldn’t afford to let her guard down unless she could depend on his discretion.
He nodded as if in understanding. “You have a rep to keep intact.”
“You’ve got it.”
“Do I have to raise my right hand and swear?”
He wasn’t taking this as seriously as she would have liked, but then again, she doubted anyone would.
“Trust is not something I come by easily, and I’m hoping your promise is all it will take.”
“You’ve got it. You took a chance on me. I think I owe you.”
“Loyalty can’t be bought. It comes from integrity. I’m counting on you having some.”
“All kidding aside, Allie, I’ve changed. I have no intention of getting drunk and shooting my mouth off.”
She nodded, hoping it was enough.
Mateo admitted, “It is good both my roommates know. This will make it easier to swap places while we’re in Sanford. I can stay with you when Fiona comes down without anyone asking questions.”
Rique jumped back to irritation.
“Seb already knows? Thanks, bud.”
“You were in Brazil. You know, on that fool’s errand. Seb was hanging out with me when Allie went to Cuba. It came out.”
Rique’s eyes widened. “Is that where you were?”
She nodded and explained the reason for the trip.
“I guess you are all in. I can’t deny there’s a small part of my brain telling me you got married just to get him here.”
Fiona gasped. “You’re kidding, right?” She put her hand on Rique’s arm and said, “You still can’t see love when it’s right in front of you. Open your eyes, will you?”
Rique glanced over at his fiancée, and he was wearing a confused expression. “There are just some things that boggle the mind. Who would have thought they could have found each other the way they did? And then to fall in love so quickly?”
Allie leaned her head against Mateo’s shoulder, felt his arm snake around her waist.
“Mateo says it’s some kind of existential wind that swept us together.”
She didn’t really believe it, and she waited for the scientist to disagree with the premise. But Fiona surprised her.
“There’s so many things that have no explanation. You two meeting the way you did defies logic. Do we put it down to coincidence or a quantum theory about waves of thought that influence our choices? You each took certain steps that led you to that bar in Cancun. No causal connection, but major repercussions.”
Rique’s eyes flashed in understanding.
“Like us?”
“Like us.”
Allie said, “I think you would have met either way. Isn’t your uncle married to Reid’s mother?”
Fiona pointed out, “He is and you’re right, but you would have, too. Mateo might have ended up on a different team, but you would have met somewhere along the line.”
Mateo kissed her nose and added, “Destiny never gives up.”
Rique was shaking his head as if it was filled with cobwebs. “Okay, this talk is way too deep for me. We came to dance.”
Rique took Fiona’s hand and led her out to the crowded floor, where he began some kind of Latin hip grind to the beat. When Fiona began to brush her body up against his in a slow, sensual rhythm, Allie understood why they hadn’t stayed very long the last time they were here. It certainly wasn’t because of the music, which was electric.
When Mateo took her hand, she rose from her stool. “He thinks Brazilians created those kinds of moves but it was actually the Cubans. We were born with it in our blood.”
And so, the competition began, each man trying to outdo the other. Fiona and she were just props, along for the ride. They did the c
ha-cha and the rhumba, tonight the men competitors, not teammates, and Fiona rolled her eyes at her more than once at their outlandish rivalry.
Letting her inhibitions go, Allie danced with passion, for the music and for the man she was with.
When the band dove into a livelier number, one reminiscent of the music on the island, Mateo grinned and called over to Rique, “Mambo.”
There was fire in his movements, as he shimmied side to side in fluid motion, his hands holding hers as he guided her steps.
“More hip action, querida.”
He placed his hands there, moving her body to the beat. She let the music flow through her, followed his feverish movements, and when he pulled her back into a hold, her hips still obeyed what his hands had dictated.
When he began to sing, the Spanish seductive, his voice took her to another dimension of sensory delight. The baritone ignited her nerves with the kind of tension only he could master.
“You are feeling it, yes?”
She was. It moved through her like quicksilver and it was intoxicating. Or maybe it was the way he held her, or merely the way he looked. He was laughing, his face free from worry and expectation. This was someone who loved life and found happiness everywhere. It made him even more beautiful than the man she’d married.
He’d worn a black silk shirt, opened to mid-chest, revealing a thatch of matted dark hair, and it was tucked into a pair of black slacks, his pants fitting his solid form perfectly. His hair was unruly from his exertions, and his eyes glittered with pleasure. And she wanted him. Not just for today but forever.
When the dance was over, she buried her fingers in his hair and pulled him close, hot need bubbling up inside. He gently loosened the hold, cradled her head in his palms and whispered, “Whatever I was looking for esposa, it was always you.”
He followed that with a kiss that was soft and tender, and she felt her legs turn to jelly.
As if the DJ knew she needed to stay within his embrace, the next song was slow, but instead of moving her around the dance floor, he remained in place, making love to her with his hands. His breath was hot against her face when he murmured, “I think we need to leave soon, querida. You feel too good and I need you too much.”
Desire, hot and sharp, clawed at her, and she could do nothing but nod in agreement. She was in a daze when they said their goodbyes to Fiona and Rique, and Mateo led her out into the frigid air.
All the way home, he stroked the inside of her thigh, increasing the building tension, and once they reached the elevator, he trailed kisses down her neck, his thumbs brushing the swells of her breasts. After fumbling with the key, he threw it on the hall table and began stripping her of her dress and undergarments. When she was fully exposed to him, he freed himself, lifted her up against the wall, and captured her with his hardened body, not stopping until she was shuddering against him and he had spilled himself into her.
Their hearts pounded together in the aftermath, his body limp from the explosive release, his arms still supporting her as best he could. His loss of control had scared him. He’d always prided himself on his discipline, but it had vanished at some point on the dance floor. Her body had become one with his, and they’d become inexplicably bound together beyond vows, beyond reason.
In a ragged voice he demanded, “Wrap your legs around me.”
Without thought, she did, her arms wound tightly around his neck. He carried her to his room and laid her down on the bed. As he relieved himself of his clothes, his eyes were riveted on her. She was exquisite, flushed now from their lovemaking, and open to his gaze. When she reached out for him, he wanted to believe she always would.
He nestled her against him, tangled his legs with hers, and listened to her breathing as it evened out and sleep claimed her.
He was held spellbound by the way she looked in his arms.
He didn’t know what he was going to do when he wasn’t with her every night. Like this.
And yet he was lucky. Rique would be leaving his fiancée behind and have to be satisfied with occasional visits. He’d at least get to see Allie every day. If only she’d be willing to admit they were married. Then he could play the part. Be the husband he wanted to be. He wouldn’t need to hide the smile of appreciation when she came into view, or the open admiration for who she was and what she did. They could play, go clubbing, or just hold hands.
He had such a dim memory of his mother and father together, didn’t really know what love between a man and a woman looked like. He’d never witnessed devotion or sacrifice, although at six, he wasn’t sure he would have known what that was. Manny had been gone a lot, trying to escape the dire circumstance that was their life in the nineties. It had become known as the special period. It was special, all right. They’d almost starved when the government launched an austerity program, trying to keep the island afloat after the Soviet Bloc fell. His mother had stood in line for hours, her hand in his, to find empty shelves when they got to the front.
He bristled at the memory. His father had given no thought to anything but his own needs. If Allie had walked through the Plaza de Armas twenty years ago, his father might have been one of the men sitting, discussing, smoking, playing dominoes. He had his cronies and his stipend. So many had let ambition go or maybe they’d had to bury it. The state had prohibited individual enrichment and expected its people to volunteer to build, to plant, to labor in the factories. At least when his father was out of the house, it was quiet. Chaos returned every night when he walked through the door, and Mateo had cowered under his bed more than once, in the dark due to power outages, as the arguments escalated, about money and about shortages. Then his father was gone, promising he would send for them when he was settled, but it went unrealized. His mother had prepared for that, never believing Manny would find room in his new life for them. He’d heard from him once, when he was twelve, informing him of his new family and asking if Mateo wanted to join him. Angry and frustrated, he’d never answered, unwilling to leave his mother, who’d held the family together with bits of string. Manny was the reason she refused to marry again. It had nothing to do with the sanctity of marriage that prevented her from moving on. It was the bitter taste Manny had left in her mouth for the sacrament.
He brushed a kiss on Allie’s temple, still not quite believing what he’d found with her, or that she was his. This was happiness. He could still be back in Cuba, still searching, if he hadn’t relented… The move had been a long time in coming, his own resistance at the crux of it. How many years had he dragged his feet? How often had he brushed away his mother’s request? He knew now there was a reason for the delay and that reason was lying in his arms.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Wednesday came too quickly for Mateo.
They were just finishing up for the move to Sanford. There’d been a couple of shopping expeditions over the last few days to fill in his wardrobe. He’d purchased everything he’d needed for the snow and cold but was lacking some new things for the warmer weather they’d find in Florida. He thought maybe Allie had gone overboard, his suitcase overflowing with new tee shirts, dress shirts, cargo pants, shorts, collared shirts, belts, sandals, sneakers and sunglasses.
“I can’t get this closed.”
She’d been supervising the task while checking her phone as incoming texts and emails arrived. She’d been working almost round the clock since Sunday night, gearing up for the upcoming Grapefruit League exodus.
“Here, let me sit on it.”
She jumped up on the bag, almost losing her balance in the process, and he finally got the zipper closed. There were still clothes lying on his bed that he didn’t even bother trying to stuff in.
“Do I really need all of this?”
She shifted her eyes up and nodded. “There isn’t a dress code down there, so you’ll need clothes for hanging out and traveling in.”
“In Cuba, I made do with what I had.”
She slid off the bag and brushed his cheek with her hand
.
“You don’t have to do that anymore.”
“Just because I have money doesn’t mean I have to spend it on things I don’t need.”
He thought it was her job to make sure he didn’t splurge on unnecessary things, but here he was, reining himself in. Frugality was just a part of his nature, honed through years of lack.
“You’ll need them, trust me. It’s my job to know.”
He didn’t respond. Her thumbs were busy again. The lightning speed with which she could text still amazed him. Once her fingers were still, she pointed. “You have another suitcase right there. There’s a two-bag limit. Use it.”
“But it will only be half-full.”
“I’ve got a few things that I wasn’t going to bring because they didn’t fit in mine. If you don’t mind sharing, I’ll just pack them in yours.”
He stopped complaining.
“Not at all. I like the thought of my clothes lying with yours.”
She put the phone down and came over to him.
“You do know we’ll have to keep our distance while we’re there.”
“Even though people know we’re a couple?”
He heard the critical tone in his voice, and it didn’t surprise him she gave him one of her exasperated stares.
“I don’t want to flaunt it.”
He hadn’t moved her an inch away from her decision even though they’d become a unit over the last few days. They did most everything together, whether it was shopping, visiting her mother one last time before their departure, gaming, watching television, sleeping in his bed. He smiled to himself. Calling it sleeping might be a bit of an exaggeration. They’d done very little of that.