by Sabrina Sol
“I’m a grown woman, Mom. I can love whomever I want.”
“But Amara, he’s…”
“He’s what? A man who worked his butt off to get this bakery ready, not because of the money, but because he believed in me and he wanted to make his abuela proud!” She knew she was yelling but she didn’t care anymore who heard. “Yes, he made mistakes when he was a teenager, but that’s not the man he is today. Any woman would be lucky to have him.”
Even beneath the layers of her mother’s Estee Lauder makeup, Amara could see the color draining from her face. Consuelo wrung her hands as if they were dishtowels.
Miguel pushed through the doors and went straight to Eric. “Dude, what happened to our agreement?”
“What agreement?” she looked at her brother and then back at Eric.
He pulled her tighter against him. “I know I promised you that I’d stay away from her, and I’m sorry that I broke that promise. But I’m not sorry that I fell in love with your sister. And if that’s going to be a problem, then you’ll just have to find a way to deal with it.”
This gasp from her mother was louder than the first and her dad’s mouth hit the floor. “Why are you both talking this way?” he asked after regaining his composure. “I’m so confused.”
“I’m sorry, Mom and Dad, that you had to find out this way. But we’ve been seeing each other for a while and, yes, I hid it from you because I knew how you’d react. Just like I knew how you’d react when I tried to convince you to sell me the bakery. But I’m not afraid anymore to tell you how I feel about Eric, and I’m not afraid to tell you that things have to change around here. I need you to listen to me more.”
“I’m still confused, mija. Things did change. We have a bakery full of new customers because we listened to you.”
“I know, Dad. But it’s not enough.” She took a deep breath and forced herself to look at them both. “This bakery has been your whole life. The reason it’s still open today is because of you and Mom. You should be proud of everything you’ve built here. But now it’s time to let go—of the bakery and of me.”
She waited for the interruption—the argument that she wasn’t ready. That they weren’t ready. But it never came. So she took another breath. No more holding back. No more biting her lip. It was time to tell them everything. “Today was a success and I know tomorrow will be, too. And so will next week and the week after. Remember, how I told you that I wanted you to believe in me? Well, now it’s my turn. I really think I can take over the bakery full-time. I want you to sell it to me next year and retire.”
“No, it’s too much for you.” Her dad rubbed his balding head—a sure sign he was torn.
“Maybe, but I can handle it. I can also handle living on my own.” She decided she might as well just rip the whole Band-Aid off at once. “I’m moving out. Miguel is going to help me renovate the storage area upstairs and turn it into a studio apartment.”
“I am?” Her brother stared at her like she was talking crazy. She was. And it felt awesome.
“Are we that awful to live with that you’d rather live in a closet?” Her mother’s voice sounded like she was on the verge of breaking down.
“I just need my own space, Mom. And I really need you—all of you,” she said while glaring at her brother, “to stop butting into my personal business. No more telling me who I can or can’t date.”
“It’s just that we want you to be happy,” her mom whimpered.
“If you really want me to be happy, then you’ll let me take over the bakery for real. You know it’s time. You’re grandparents now. You should be traveling and babysitting and doing all the other things you could never do while we were growing up because you had to run the bakery and raise us. It’s time to start living the rest of your life, and it’s time for me to start living mine.”
Her dad took a step toward her. “Is this what you really want, Amara?”
Her eyes watered. Besides Eric, no one else had ever asked her that question. “Yes, Daddy, it is.”
“Then it’s yours.” Her dad looked at her mom and she nodded then burst into tears.
The door to the kitchen swung open and Daisy barreled in with her hands up in the air. “What’s going on in here? I’m running out of everything? Why is everyone crying?” she yelled as she looked around the room.
Amara laughed through her tears. “My parents are retiring and I’m going to buy the bakery.”
“That’s awesome. Now, can everyone can back to work?” Daisy took a tray of pineapple besos and walked out.
“Since when did she become so bossy?” Amara’s mom asked.
She laughed and reached for Eric’s hand. He grabbed hers and held on tight.
“Okay, Mom and Dad, let’s go,” Miguel said, after clearing his throat. “I think Eric and Amara can handle things in here while we help Daisy out front.”
To his credit, Eric waited about five seconds after they’d left before pulling her against him. His lips claimed hers in a hungry kiss that sedated her crazy rambling. Already starved for the taste of him, she kissed him back with equal force, sucking greedily on his lips and tongue. He groaned when she held his face in both of her hands, and then lifted her up onto the edge of the counter. Her legs wrapped around him and he moved his lips to her neck and collarbone.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered.
“I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I’ve always loved you,” she whispered back.
“You drive me crazy, Amara Maria Robles,” he said against her skin. “You make me want to do very bad things. Like take you right here in the middle of this kitchen.”
She laughed and brought his head up so she could kiss his lips again. “I never knew bad boys could be corrupted by good girls.”
He stopped his kisses to stare at her. “When they love them as much as I love you, they can. You make me want to be a better man.”
She smiled and touched his cheek. “You don’t need to change anything for me, Eric. I love the man you already are, the man that’s holding me in his arms right here, right now.”
He grinned and put his forehead against hers. What she saw in his dark, beautiful eyes filled her heart. She knew there would be no more pretending about who they thought they should be, no more letting others define who they were together. None of that mattered anymore.
Because when she looked into his eyes, she didn’t see good or bad. She just saw forever.
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Acknowledgments
As the saying goes, it takes a village. And this book would not exist if weren’t for some very important and amazing people in my life. I’m definitely blessed.
First and foremost, to my own personal cheerleading squad: Louisa Bacio, Nikki Prince and Elizabeth Scott—I sincerely believe this book would’ve never been finished or submitted without your words of encouragement and gentle nudges. Thank you for being my friends and for inspiring me every day.
To Heather Howland for believing in this book even though she’d never tasted, let alone heard of, some of the Mexican desserts I wrote about. Thank you also for all of your expert notes, comments and edits which helped the story of Eric and Amara become more than I ever dreamed possible.
To the rest of my friends at OCC RWA, thank you for the constant support and for putting up with my blubbering speech when I got my roses for this book series’ contract. I’m so grateful to be a part of this amazing group of writers.
To those crazy author types who belong to the Facebook Night Writers group, thanks for all of the midnight writing sprints that helped me get this book done.
To Rebecca Flenniken, Valentine Greiner, Tasha Henderson and Deanna Mora, thanks for reading this book before anyone else and letting
me know what you loved and what I needed to work on. Your feedback was invaluable.
To my parents and the rest of my family, thank you for instilling in me a sense of pride for our Mexican heritage and for teaching me to share that with my children. Also, I blame my love/addiction for pan dulce on you.
To my three kids, for being proud of me even though you’re not allowed to read my books and for understanding when I need to lock myself away in order to write.
And, finally, to my husband Patrick: Thank you for everything you do so I can fulfill my dream of being an author. This means nothing without your love and support. You and the kids are my world.
Te amo. Forever.
About the Author
Sabrina Sol is the chica who loves love. She writes steamy romance stories featuring smart and sexy Latina heroines. Sabrina lives in sunny Southern California with her husband, three kids, two Beagles and is part of a larger, extended Mexican family whose members are definitely not the source of inspiration for some of her characters. At least, that’s what she’s been telling them.
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