I smile back. “I’m marrying Millie.”
My brother’s smile grows. “I know. It’s really cool.”
I nod, locking eyes with him. “Mattie is going to be my sister-in-law.”
If it’s possible, his smile grows even wider. “Yeah, I know. I’ll get to see her, like, all the time.”
I keep my grin but lift a brow. “Hermano, she’s going to be family.”
His brows move together just a fraction of an inch. He still looks happy. Just a little confused. “Right, but not really.”
I shake my head. “No, really.”
Now he frowns for real. “Nah. It’s not like she’s going to be my cousin like Rosa or Esme.”
Rosa and Esme, Aunt Lucinda’s two youngest daughters, are drop-dead gorgeous and just a few years older than Alex. He’s probably had a crush on one or the other since he was old enough to notice girls.
“Maybe not,” I say with a shrug. “But she’s going to be my family. Under my protection.”
His brown eyes narrow. “What do you mean? Are you trying to tell me I can’t date her?”
I know better than that. The last thing I need is to give the two of them a forbidden-love complex.
“No, Alex.” I drop my hand onto his shoulder again and grip it in a way that makes him squirm. “I’m telling you you can’t touch her.”
His eyes flare. “Not touch her?! But—”
“You know what I mean.”
Alex’s nostrils flare. “Let’s pretend I don’t,” he says with swagger, wagging his head side to side the way only a Chicano teenage boy can.
I firm my grip until his breath hisses.
“No sex. And I mean. No. Sex. While she’s living at home.”
His eyes bug. “You expect us to wait until college?!”
I chuckle. “Hermano, I don’t expect you’ll be dating next summer.”
He looks so hurt; I almost feel guilty. “Why not?”
I sigh. “Alex—” I start to tell him that it’s just not realistic, but I stop. In a few months, he’ll figure it out on his own. “Forget I said that. Just remember the part about no sex.”
He scowls. “You’re just saying that to me because I’m your brother, and you expect me to be just as perfect as you are.”
This time, I laugh outright. “Alex, I’m going easy on you. Wait and see what I do to the other guys Mattie dates.”
My little brother—who’s not so little anymore—steps into my space. “There won’t be other guys,” he growls.
I almost—almost—step back. But I get into his space instead. “Good. Then I’ll only have to say this once, little brother. You have sex with her while she’s underage, and I. Will. Hurt. You.”
Chapter Thirty-One
MILLIE
After Nezzie’s tacos, churros, and lots of wedding talk, we head home. But the kids are still so wired from all the excitement that I cave when they ask to watch the copy of Coco Luc’s cousin Felicité lent us. I make everyone—everyone except Luc—change into pajamas first so getting into bed after will be quick—or so I think.
When I come back downstairs in my Latuza pajama set and fuzzy socks, Luc’s appreciative gaze makes me blush even though I’m covered from neck to toe. He starts the movie, wedged between Emmett and me, the two of us snuggled against him. But as soon as little Miguel finds himself among the dead, Emmett scrambles in between us so he can hug me.
I’m not at all prepared for the scene when Miguel plays the lullaby and Coco remembers her father. None of us are. And the living room echoes with the susurration of muffled sobs and sniffles.
“This is why I don’t like school,” Emmett whimpers into my shoulder.
I sit up straight, clutching him. “What do you mean, buddy?”
Emmett looks up at me, red eyed and nose streaming. Like the hero he is, Luc pauses the movie, reaches toward the coffee table, and plucks a tissue from the box in the middle of it.
Emmett takes it from him and wipes his nose. “This,” he says, stamping his eyes with the tissue. “Crying like this. Even when I’m not watching a sad movie.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling helpless. “I know. It happens to me too.”
“Grief attacks,” Mattie says, shaking her head and reaching for her own tissue. “I hate them.”
“Yeah,” Harry says, his voice rough. “They suck.”
Emmett blinks his watery eyes. “You have them too?!” Shock rings in his voice. All three of us nod, and I bite my lip, guilt swamping me.
“It does suck,” I say, “but it’s normal. Like I said from the beginning, it’s normal to cry about it.”
He looks at me, clearly stunned. “You didn’t say it would happen at school!” His voice pitches with the injustice of it. “I thought it would only happen when I thought of Mom and Dad.”
I smile, but gently, wistfully. “No, Em, it doesn’t work like that. It can happen anywhere.”
“Even at school,” Mattie says.
“Or soccer practice,” Harry adds grudgingly.
Emmett stares at the twins, disbelief written all over his face. “You cry at school and soccer practice?”
Mattie’s smile must match mine, but Harry just shrugs his acknowledgement.
“Sometimes you can’t help it,” Mattie says.
“So, what do you do?” Emmett asks, his face screwing into a frown as he looks back and forth between the twins. “Nobody calls you a baby?”
“Who’s calling you a baby?” I ask, but Emmett ignores me. Right now, it’s Harry he needs.
“I keep a pair of sunglasses hooked to my shirt,” my brother says, sounding supremely cool. “If one hits me in class, I put ‘em on. Nobody but Mr. Craddock tells me to take them off, but by the time he does, I’m usually good.”
Emmett whips his head around to me. “Can I get a pair of sunglasses?”
I fight to keep my smile in check. “We’ll hit CVS on the way to school tomorrow.”
His body practically wilts with relief. He turns to Mattie. “Do you have sunglasses?”
Grinning, she shakes her head. “Not for that. I usually just ask to go to the bathroom.”
Emmett frowns. “But I don’t need to go to the bathroom.”
Behind Emmett, I catch Luc stifling his laughter.
“But you need privacy,” Mattie explains.
Emmett aims his confused gaze at me. “Girls cry in the bathroom?”
“Sometimes,” I say with a shrug.
Looking like the secrets of the universe have been revealed to him, his forehead clears. “No wonder they take so long in there.”
Mattie rolls her eyes. “Can we finish the movie?”
Everyone agrees, so we do. It’s a sweet movie, and the ending is both sad and happy.
As the credits roll, Mattie looks at Luc with wet lashes. “Do y’all do that?” she asks, her voice squeaking.
“Do what, Matt?” Luc asks gently.
My sister dabs her eyes with a tissue, her chin trembling. “Celebrate Dia de los Muertos?”
“We do,” he says, nodding. “Mami spends days cleaning the house, and we make an ofrenda with pan de muerto and a lot of other foods and offerings to honor my grandparents and my Uncle Ernesto, Mami’s older brother.”
Emmett releases me and sits bolt upright. “Do they come visit you?” he asks, looking equally spooked and hopeful.
Les Dimples stand out as Luc grins. “If you ask Abuela, she’ll say they do.” Then he shrugs. “Alex and I never knew them, but during the holiday… I don’t know...”
Harry says nothing, but he leans in, resting his elbows on his knees. Mattie glances at her twin and then back to Luc.
“What do you mean?” she presses.
Luc shrugs again. “The house feels different on Dia de los Muertos. More… open. That’s the best way to explain it. And even though I didn’t know them, my grandparents and my uncle, I think about them. About the stories I’ve heard about them.”
“Can we make one?�
� Emmett asks, looking at me with huge eyes. “An off-rend-oh?” he asks, butchering the word.
“Ofrenda,” Mattie corrects, her accent sounding pretty close to Luc’s.
“Ofrenda,” he tries again, nailing it. “Can we make one for Mom and Dad?”
I glance at Luc, unsure what to say. I don’t know the rules for this kind of thing. And I don’t know if I can explain cultural appropriation in a way Emmett would understand.
But Luc doesn’t hesitate. “Sure, jefe, we can do it together next year.”
Emmett—no, all of my siblings—stare at Luc like he just invented flying cars and he’s given them each a free one.
I freakin’ love this man.
I cover his knee and give it a squeeze. When he aims those dimples my way, a little flutter dances in my middle.
My three siblings exchange glances. Knowing glances, I realize. Harry clears his throat. “So y’all are getting married in less than two weeks.” It isn’t a question. This is something we hammered out at Nezzie’s. A small ceremony—Luc’s family, my family, and a few friends—at his parents’ house. December 21st. The Saturday before Christmas.
Last month I had no idea how we’d get through the holidays. Well, this is how. With a wedding. New traditions. And The Valencias.
I’ve never felt so blessed.
“Yep,” I say. “In less than two weeks.”
Harry raises a brow at me. I can tell he’s ready to ask for something. Argue for something if he has to.
“We’ve discussed it,” he says nodding to Mattie and Emmett in turn, “and we think Luc should start living here now.”
They’ve discussed it? When?!
Luc coughs next to me. A quick glance tells me he’s equally surprised—and amused.
“Like tonight,” Harry adds.
“Well, we haven’t—” I start, but I don’t get very far.
“We like it when Luc’s here,” Mattie says.
“Yeah,” Emmett echoes.
“Hey guys, I like being here too,” Luc says. “And I’m happy to hear you’re ready for me to move in. But let me and your sister talk it out first, okay?”
“Sure,” Harry concedes. Mattie and Emmett seem to follow his cue.
Once again, when they would argue with me, one word from Luc, and it’s done. I could get used to this.
I can’t help my smile. I will get used to this.
“Okay. Now that that’s settled, you three get upstairs. It’s late.”
And to my surprise, they go. I give them a minute to get upstairs, fight over who gets the bathroom first, and then I go up to make sure everyone’s good for the night. Emmett lets me hug and kiss him as usual. But tonight, the twins surprise me.
“I’m so excited for you,” Mattie whispers, hugging me in her doorway. It’s really sweet.
When I go to tell Harry goodnight, he gets up from his unmade bed and comes to put his hands on my shoulders. God, he’s getting so big. We’re no longer eye-level. I have to look up at him, and when I do his face is so serious. So grown up.
“I’m really glad it’s Luc.”
I smile. “Yeah. Me too.”
When he kisses my cheek, my throat goes tight. “Where are those sunglasses when you need them?” I say, and he laughs.
“‘Night, Millie.”
Clarence follows me downstairs where Luc waits on the sectional. He looks relaxed and perfect and beautiful. I’m a nervous wreck.
I move around until I’m facing him but then stop. “I feel like I have whiplash.”
He smiles, and those dimples I love are there just for me. “Big day. I don’t have any regrets. You?”
Some of my nerves quiet down. “No. None.” It’s true. Not one. Still, I bite my lip. “But I want to talk about something.”
He pats the spot next to him. “I figured.”
I sit, but apparently, it’s not close enough. Because Luc hooks one arm around my back and swings my legs across his with the other. And some more of my nerves settle. He’ll understand. He always does.
“What is it?” he asks. “You think we’re moving too fast?”
I shake my head. “I mean, it’s fast, but it feels right,” I say. “Now that we’re here, I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”
His smile grows, and he nods. “Me too. And I want to stay tonight.” He searches my face for my reaction. “If you’re okay with that.”
Not smiling is impossible. So is not blushing. “I’m okay with that.” I swallow. “And you can move in whenever you’re ready.”
His arm around me pulls me closer against him. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” I say with a nod. “Perfect. I’m off tomorrow.”
His eyes glint. “I know.”
The promise in those two words makes a welcome heat prickle over my skin. What are the chances that any of the kids will come downstairs tonight? But I don’t get the chance to calculate them.
“You wanted to talk about something?” Luc prompts.
My nerves rush back single file. “Um, yeah.” I sit up a little straighter and clear my throat. No sense in dragging it out. If he’s offended, he’ll let me know. “I don’t think I can take your name.”
His puckered brow tells me this wasn’t at all what he expected me to say. “Why not?”
I bite my lip. My heart thumps clumsily. “Millie Valencia? I-It sounds like that poser band from the eighties.”
His frown pinches tighter. Then his eyes fly open. “Milli Vanilli?” And just like that, he’s laughing.
Really laughing.
I sigh. “When it comes to names, I’m kind of cursed.”
His laughter quells as he nods. “Yeah, baby, that curse I won’t argue with.”
I get a tingle deep inside. In a place that could never be cursed. One that could only be blessed, and one I now desperately hope carries a blessing we’ve made.
Luc pulls me to him and plants a kiss on my lips. I think it’ll be a quick one, but he slows it down, draws it out, and nibbles on my bottom lip before deepening the kiss again.
When I’m half breathless and hoping the kids are sound asleep, he pulls back.
“I don’t need you to take my name, Mildred Agnes Delacroix,” Luc says. “As long as you take me.”
“Oh, trust me Luca—” I pause. Frown. “Wait. I don’t know your middle name. How did that happen?”
I can’t believe it. Luc blushes. He actually blushes and says nothing.
“Luc, what’s your middle name?”
“It’s Hugo.”
I blink. “Oogo?” I repeat. Because it sounds like he just said Oogo.
“Yeah, spelled like Hugo, but the H is silent.” He winces. “I’ve always hated it.”
“Luca Hugo.” But, of course, it sounds like Luca-Oogo. I press my lips together, fighting a smile.
He’s still wincing.
“What?” I ask.
“Mami’s maiden name is Lugo.”
“Oh?” I shrug. “Okay.”
Luc wrinkles his nose. “So, legally, my name is Luca Hugo Valencia Lugo.”
I burst out laughing. “You’re kidding, right?”
Luc’s eyes narrow into a glare. “No.”
And I laugh and laugh and laugh because I know without a shadow of a doubt that this is the man for me. While I laugh, he grips me tighter, glaring hard so he won’t laugh too.
“Luca Hugo Valencia Lugo,” I test it out, managing to keep almost a straight face. “Yeah, that’s not much better than Mildred Agnes.”
He arches that scarred brow.
“Okay, maybe it’s a little better,” I concede.
Luc nods.
“Let’s just agree we’ll be super careful with all of our kids’ names, okay?”
He nods harder. “Yes. So careful.”
I nod too and then put my hand on his chest. “But like I was saying…”
The dimples come back to me. “Yeah?”
“You, Luca Hugo Valencia Lugo, are definitely tak
en.”
Epilogue
LUC
FOUR YEARS LATER
“We’re going to have a baby.”
My brother and Mattie sit across from us at the breakfast nook, their hands clutched together in front of them. Mattie’s knuckles are white. So are Alex’s lips.
But he looks defiant. Mattie just looks terrified. Under the table, Millie squeezes my wrist. This isn’t something she needs to be dealing with right now. The twins—our twins—Marco and Mateo—turned three in August. They’ve been running circles around her these days.
And her morning sickness is so bad this time. She’s exhausted. So much worse than when she carried the boys. That must mean it’s a girl, right?
I glance at her and find her biting her lip. Damn. I don’t want her to worry.
I fire a glare at my brother. “What did I tell you?”
Alex’s brows shoot up. “You told me to wait. We waited until college.”
“Alejandro!” Mattie jerks one hand free and covers her face with it.
“Mi melodia.” Alex wraps an arm around Mattie’s shoulders. “Don’t be embarrassed.” His eyes narrow on me. “We waited four years. No one could expect more than that.”
Clearly mortified, Mattie moans behind her hand.
“I warned you this would happen,” I hiss.
“Well, you would know,” Alex snaps.
I sit up straighter, shoulders going back. Millie holds up a staying hand. “Hey-Hey,” she says, eyeing me and Alex in turn. “We’re all family, remember?”
Mattie risks a peek between her fingers. It’s such a Millie thing to do, my tension and frustration eases. Just a little.
“Have you told Mami and Papi yet?” Millie asks. This is what she calls them. What all the Delacroixes call them. Since we got married.
Mattie shakes her head, dropping her hand. “Not yet. We thought we’d do it tomorrow—after Thanksgiving dinner,” she adds, wincing. “What do you think?”
My wife snorts. “I think you need to be ready for Abuela to announce it to everyone as soon as you walk through the front door.”
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