Isabella - Book One

by Thompson, Jamie Brook

  “They’ll see us.” Her fingers squeeze into my khaki shorts.

  “Should we go check out my bedroom?” I ask totally joking around.

  “I’m not that kind of girl,” she plays back, leaning into my nibbles on her neck.

  “I could make you that way.”

  Her chest rises as she takes a breath.

  “Does it bother you when I talk like this?” I breathe into her ear.

  She shakes her head.

  “Then just pretend that you can trust me if we go inside. I’ll just whisper what I want to do into your ear. You can even tie me down to make sure.” My stomach is about to explode with pleasure.

  She shifts her hips. “Reef, this conversation is getting way past my working boundaries.”

  “You’re not at work when you’re with me.” I lick her neck.

  She sits straight up. “Good job, Annie,” Isabella shouts as though she’s trying to avoid Annie coming over here to see what we’re doing because we’re not paying attention to the practice session.

  I pull her back to my chest. “I’m not finished yet.”

  “Oh, I think that’s about all I can handle today,” she says with her voice playing a steady stream of uneasy laughter.

  “Then can we try this again tomorrow?” I’m afraid she’s closing off to me again. “I just want to see if we have chemistry.”

  “I think we might have too much chemistry. Meaning this kind of talk has to be off limits. I’m making that rule.” She lifts the t-shirt up to loosen it from clinging to her chest. “Why don’t we try to have a quality conversation and see where that gets us?”

  “Quality?” I’m curious what her idea of quality is.

  “Yes, something of substance.”

  “Like?”

  “Something other than what you’re hunting for and you’re not going to get.” She spins her body around and straddles my legs on the lounge chair.

  “Do you even realize how hot this is?” I grab her hips.

  “Okay, bad idea.” She kicks her leg over so both legs are together against my side. “I should’ve never done that in front of the girls. I wasn’t thinking.” She checks to see if any of them were looking.

  “You really care about them. Don’t you?” I want to make a joke, but she’s honestly concerned.

  “Of course, I care about them.” She smiles at Annie and gives her a thumbs up. “They’re little sweethearts that will someday have to grow up in a man’s world.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” I lift a brow. “The whole sweetheart thing. Annie’s a bit spoiled.”

  “She’s the oldest. Her world is about establishing the rules for the other little ones around her.”

  “Basically, she’s bossy.” I say it like it is.

  “No, she’s aware. Her life has consisted of making sure everybody’s taken care of. I could spot that right off the bat.” Isabella places her finger on my chin and wiggles it. “When we first came to America, my dad would take us to the beach and I would collect seashells while Nikki would look for boys. My dad would always flip out when he caught her so would I secretly offer to pay Nikki half of my allowance if she helped me find seashells.”

  “How old were you?” I’m wondering when Nikki became interested in boys.

  “Sixteen.”

  “And you were focusing on seashells?” I interrupt her before she can get another word in.

  “Well, Nikki was fourteen and I knew I had to look out for her so I tried to establish a well rounded personality that found interest in hobbies. Not just boys. I didn’t want her to be like my mother.”

  “That had to have been tough,” I say because it’s the only thing I can think of. I reach down and begin to stroke her arm, hoping the girls don’t interrupt us. I like when Isabella opens up.

  “But I met Frank Flores that summer and everything changed.” She shakes her head. “Let’s just say, I forgot about seashells.”

  “Tell me about old Frank,” I encourage, trying to hide the tinge of jealousy that’s about slip off my tongue while the warm sun pelts down on our skin.

  “He was my first love.” She leans forward and wraps a towel around herself. Very carefully she tugs at the t-shirt under the towel to slip it off and continues to keep the towel secured tightly around her chest.

  “Is this Frank guy married? Do you still talk to him?” Please say no. I take the wet shirt and toss it near the dirty towel bin.

  “Oh, no. Not at all,” she gasps, and then she nuzzles into my chest where I welcome every bit of her affection. She curls into my hand as I play with her hair. “Frank is a guy that likes women. If you know what I mean.”

  “He’s a cheater?” I’m starting to realize where the frozen sheet of ice began. “Did he cheat on you?”

  “No, he just dumped me after I…”

  “After what?” I meet her gaze.

  “Nothing.” She shakes her head. “I can’t even remember.”

  “Right,” I laugh, and begin to assume he’s the guy that took her virginity. “Well, lucky for me old Frank and Beans is a thing of the past, and Reef is your brighter future.”

  She tilts her head and stares at the horizon. “You, know, it’s funny you would say that. It’s taken years to finally feel like this.”

  “So you’re saying you found the right guy?” I reach down and slip my hand through the opening of the towel to rub her stomach. “I mean, come on, don’t tell me old what’s his name was as smooth as this.”

  “He never whispered in my ear and made me feel the way you do. That’s for sure.” She lowers her head.

  I roll my fingers around her navel, and then I place the palm of my hand on her stomach, wondering how big she’ll be at three months. Barely showing, maybe? I pull back my hand and run my fingers in a circle where it once had been, trying not to think about her hot little pregnant body.

  “Why do you always do that?” She reaches up to tickle the scruff on my neck.

  The soft touch of her fingernails is enough spark a heavy pulse in my stomach, mainly because I’m not expecting her to be so playful. Or maybe it’s more than that. Did we just have a real connection? I suddenly don’t want her to stop. It wasn’t long enough for me. I need more. I want to know every detail about her life.

  “Uncle Reef, Annie called me ugly.” The sobbing sound of my brother’s daughter is about to drive me mad.

  Isabella jumps up. “That’s not very nice.”

  “Well, she is,” Annie shouts.

  “Annie, I want you to apologize,” Isabella’s tone is serious. “Nobody should ever call somebody ugly. That’s the cruelest thing you can call a woman.

  Annie’s face lowers as she apologizes.

  Isabella reaches out to lift her chin. “I’m proud of you. And I’m not upset because you didn’t know it was wrong to say that. I can tell by the way you feel so bad.” She looks at all the other girls. “Now, I want all of you to sit in front of me in a half circle.”

  The girl’s run like the house is on fire to sit in front of Isabella. Their eyes are glued to every word that comes out of her mouth. I glance around, searching for nanny Mary who is nowhere to be found. Who pays somebody to watch their kids when she’s never around? I’m frustrated she’s so negligent.

  “Each of you has to tell me one thing that makes you pretty.” Isabella smiles at Annie raising her hand. “Why don’t we let the other girls go first?”

  Annie pouts.

  “I like my hair,” the youngest girl says.

  Isabella slides over and runs her fingers through the little one’s hair and starts to braid it. “I think you have mermaid hair.”

  “Can I have mermaid lips?” Another one of the girls asks.

  “Go get in my bag over by Uncle Reef.” Isabella juts her chin, still braiding my other niece’s hair. “I have some lipstick that will make you have a mermaid smile.”

  “I want some too,” Annie begs.

  Pretty soon, Isabella is putting lipstick
on all the girls’ lips and cheeks. She’s training them on how to get the most out of your cosmetics. I can’t help but sit there and watch her be so natural with my brother’s kids. Every part about this woman is exactly what I want in a marriage. Only I don’t know how to tell her.

  “Does anybody want Uncle Reef to whip them up some mermaid sandwiches?” I ask over their squeals of delight from all the attention Isabella is paying to them.

  “Mermaids don’t eat sandwiches,” Annie corrects.

  I stare at her little pink nose and wonder if she put on any sunscreen. “Then what do they eat?”

  “Seashells.” Annie pretends to fluff her damp hair.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have any of those, but maybe Isabella has some.” I wink at Isabella widening her eyes in disapproval. “She just got done telling me how much she loves seashells more than she loves boys.”

  “That’s because she’s a mermaid,” Annie says. It’s as if she has no doubt the woman of my dreams is a mythical creature I will never be able to have for better or worse. But, man alive, do I intend to prove little Annie wrong.

  “How about I make ice cream sundaes? Do mermaids eat those?” I ask, hoping to get a positive response.

  Every single girl nods with anticipation.

  Isabella gets to her feet first, and then wanders over to hold out her hands so she can help pull me off the lounger. I clutch onto her fingers. I have so many feelings going on inside of me that I can’t bring myself to let her go. I take her left hand and run my fingers over her ring finger.

  She looks at me with questioning eyes.

  I nod.

  “Uncle Reef, my mom texted me and says we have to come in the house because nanny Mary made us lunch,” Annie whines staring down at her phone she took out of a wet towel.

  “I’m surprised that thing even works,” I whisper into Isabella’s ear.

  She frowns. “I should help her wipe it down and make sure the battery doesn’t get soaked.”

  I pull her back. “They’ll just buy her another one.”

  “You’re terrible.” Isabella pokes my chest with her finger. “I’m not spoiling my kids like that. I want them to earn things like I did as a kid.”

  I like the sound of that. “And what else do you have in mind with raising children? I’m only asking because studies show that couples who disagree on parenting have a higher risk of divorce.”

  “I’m old school as far as discipline goes, but I really want to focus on positive reinforcement over negative as much as I can.” She stares at the girls. “I think they have so much potential. Don’t you think?”

  “I guess,” my voice replies, but my mind is on other things. Mainly I’m wondering how the hell I found a woman this amazing at some lunatic dating service. It’s not every day a man stumbles across a full package. I start to feel myself needing to tell her how I feel. I’ve already talked to Nikki about it. And if Nikki knows her sister well as she says, I’m probably okay to move things this fast.

  I look Isabella in the eyes.

  “Are you trying to intimidate me?” She giggles.

  The girls start racing away from nanny Mary. They’re refusing to go in the house. Ironically we’re alone, making it the perfect opportunity. Tell her.

  My chest tightens while my heart begins to pound.

  “Isabella,” I say, taking in a jagged breath. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Okay, we can figure this out.” Mia yanks a brush through my hair as Nikki paints my nails “Did he say he thinks he loves you, or he loves you?”

  The excitement of the moment still has me fluttering. “I can’t remember. He just said something about the fact he thinks he’s falling in love with me.” I sink into the crushed velvet couch.

  “Hold still,” Nikki snaps, blowing on my nails.

  I stare at the rack of clothing and wonder if there’s anything purple or Lakers gold to put on. The robe is starting to make me sweat and I don’t want to be stinky for tonight. The excitement of being with Reef again is practically killing me. It’s been four days since I’ve heard from him. I keep wondering if I sent the wrong message by not responding back. He can’t expect me to tell him what I’m feeling. My heart could get crushed if I told him the truth. Reef’s the only guy I could see myself spending the rest of my life with. I shake my head and try not to feel that way. Being in love doesn’t mean he wants to marry you. I remind myself. Only women want the sure thing.

  “I don’t even know what I’m going to wear.” I tap my foot against the floor.

  “We’ve already got that covered.” Nikki twists the lid back on the dark purple nail polish and wanders out of the room.

  Mia finishes smoothing out the high ponytail on my head, and I take a peek in the mirror. I shimmy my shoulders to show my approval before she pulls out a tube of red lipstick.

  “Oh, no. He hates make up.” I hold out my hand to stop her.

  “That’s because he’s never seen you in red.” She fights against me until she touches my bottom lip with a texture that’s smooth as butter. “Just try it for a minute and see how it feels.”

  I take the lipstick from her and lean toward the mirror, smearing more over my lips. “This is fabulous,” I say, speaking through a wide-open mouth.

  “I know, right?” Mia claps her hands together. “I make it out of the beeswax on Papa’s ranch. And then I put in a red tint so it lasts all day, the best part is the natural oils nourish your lips like ChapStick.”

  I stare down at the little black tube. “How did you make it look so professional?”

  She takes it from me and drops it in my purse. “I’m working on that part. This was sort of a trial from a company I found off Google.”

  Who knew little Mia could be such a go-getter? An entrepreneur at heart. I love seeing this side of her.

  “Mia,” I say barely above a whisper. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Sure.” She smiles.

  “I—sort of like this guy.” I crinkle my forehead because the ice-cold sensation that naturally surrounds my heart is warm.

  “Are you serious?” she gasps.

  “Shhh. I don’t want Nikki to know.” I peek out the door to make sure she’s still gone.

  “Are you going to tell him?” Mia asks as though we can solve the world’s biggest problem in about five seconds.

  “I don’t know.” I lick my nails to check and see if they’re dry. Perfect. The tackiness is gone.

  “No, seriously. Stop trying to ignore the question. Are you going to tell him?” She lifts her brows.

  “Maybe.”

  “I think you should tell him tonight. It’s better to find out how he feels so he can’t break your heart. You don’t want to give him something that doesn’t belong to him.” Mia shakes her head and rubs my legs to check if they’re smooth.

  “Stop,” I say, annoyed I know what she’s thinking about. “I’m not going to sleep with him.”

  “Then, you shouldn’t have shaved your legs.” She frowns.

  I straighten my robe as Nikki walks into the room.

  She wanders next to us. “Okay, I think you should go with the kids size jersey and these pants Mia just frayed.” She holds up a few shirts and the coolest pair of jeans I’ve seen in a while.

  “Where did you get these?” I ask, slipping one leg in at a time before pulling the acid washed denim fabric over my hips. Low rise. Ugh. This might even be ultra low rise? Double ugh! “How am going to sit in these without showing my crack to the people behind me if I bend over?”

  “Wear the jersey.” Nikki hands me the gold shirt. “It’ll be long enough to cover your backend.”

  Mia shakes her head. “No way. The way your butt looks in those jeans, you’re showing it off. You just won’t be able to bend over. So make sure you sit straight up all night.” She pulls the robe off my shoulders, exposing my black lace bra, and lifts her brows.

  “It’s not what you thi
nk. I’m not planning on showing anybody,” I say, tugging the robe back on.

  “Just take the damn thing off. It’s not like we haven’t seen those giant knockers before? Am I right?” She glances over to Nikki to gain her approval.

  “She’s right.” Nikki nods. “You had those in like…What? The sixth grade?”

  “Yep, and the boys haven’t left me alone since.” I rub it in her face.

  “Too bad they haven’t gotten you laid.” She rolls her shoulders.

  I roll my eyes. You have no idea my plans for tonight. I’m so sick and tired of her harassing me for having some self-control. I could say plenty about her being a floozy like our mother.

  “I’m thinking the black lace could do wonders for this jersey.” Mia snatches the gold shirt and holds it in front of me before she grabs a pair of scissors next to the make up on the counter. “It just needs to be fitted against your body to give the full effect.”

  “What are you doing?” I cringe at the idea of her cutting the only shirt I have that will work tonight.

  “Trust her. She made the jeans.” Nikki plops on the couch and picks up a novel, flipping it open to the middle.

  “You made these?” I stare down at the perfect detail in every section that’s been frayed.

  “Um, the last time I checked we grew up in the same neighborhood, right?” She laughs while she snips away at the gold fabric and sits down at the sewing machine at the end of the table, tapping her hands against it. “I brought this baby in because I learned very young that when you’re born into a broke familia you gotta learn how to rock it with no pocket. Last time I checked we weren’t the rich girls with drug lord daddies from El Chapo’s circle of dirty money. And I didn’t have a job like you did when you were growing up. I had Lucas, remember?”

  I wince and check to see if Madame X’s office light is still on.

  “She went home,” Nikki says not even bothering to look up. It’s like she can smell the panic pheromones seeping through my skin.