Romero
“You’re kidding me with this shit, right?” Romero glared at Angel.
Angel didn’t even look at him. “Nope, it’s not happening.” He shot the basketball into the hoop.
Eric caught the rebound and bounced the ball. “Why? What happened?”
“Nothing happened.” Angel held his hands up for Eric to throw him the ball. “I just don’t want a bachelor party. What’s the big deal?” He shot the ball again.
“The big deal is,” Romero grabbed the ball as it bounced off the rim, “we had this whole Vegas thing set up—an entire weekend, Angel. You can’t just rank out on us like that.”
Angel shrugged. “Well, I appreciate it, but cancel it. It’s not happening.”
“You’re fucking serious?”
Angel laughed. “Yeah, I’m serious. You guys can still go if you want. Celebrate for me.”
Romero knew it had something to do with his fiancée, Sarah. Angel was so damn whipped it was a joke. She either told him not to have one, or worse, threatened to have one of her own. Romero had been looking forward to this too. He’d finally reached his goal of starting his own security firm. All the goals he’d set for himself in the last few years had finally come together. It was a little rocky at first, but things had started taking off in the last couple of months. He’d just received his P.I. license, had two employees now, was already looking to hire more, and the money was finally rolling in. What better way to celebrate than partying his ass off in Vegas? Now Angel had pulled the rug out from under him. “We gotta do something for you, man. Even if we don’t go out of town, we can do something around here.”
“Nah, I don’t want shit. We got all kinds of showers and other crap my parents are planning. I don’t need anything else.” Angel stopped to take a swig from his water bottle.
Romero shook his head as he watched Eric take another shot. “Damn shame. I’ll think of something.”
“Drop it, Romero. I don’t want anything, so let it go.”
Sarah, his fiancée, had definitely pulled a fast one on him. There was no way he’d be this adamant about it. This was bullshit. He’d never understand how a girl could have such a hold on a guy. Romero stood there baffled about Angel’s refusal to give in.
***
Isabel
“Let’s go over this again,” Isabel said, as Valerie glossed her lips, looking into the visor on the passenger side. “Remember, indifference is key. You’ve been over Alex now for a year. That’s proof enough you can live without him.”
Valerie nodded. They were on their way to Valerie’s cousin’s wedding shower. She was marrying Alex’s younger brother, and Valerie was the maid of honor. This was a disaster. Valerie exceeded Isabel’s expectations this past year. She actually managed to stay away from him for that long. But now she had to be there for all the wedding events, and so would he.
“I got this, Isabel. I’m so over him. You’re being silly right now.”
Isabel took a deep breath. “Okay, I hope so, but if anything comes up, remember I’ll be right there for you.”
Valerie laughed. “I’ll be fine.”
They walked into the elaborate setup in Alex’s family’s backyard. Valerie had told her that their family was big on gatherings and parties, but this was outrageous. The entire backyard was transformed into this outdoor wedding heaven.
After saying hello to her cousin Sarah and her fiancé Angel, they made their way to the outdoor bar. Alex and few other guys were huddled there already. Valerie squeezed Isabel’s arm when Alex came into view. The jerk looked hotter than ever, and Isabel had a bad feeling Valerie would be a goner.
“Be strong,” she whispered as they reached the bar area.
The guy pouring the shots behind the bar lifted a brow when he saw Valerie approach. “I’ll take one,” Valerie said.
God, that was the worst thing she could do—get drunk. “Valerie, no,” she warned, hoping Valerie would listen to reason.
“Who brought the narc?”
Isabel immediately turned to the idiot behind the bar, pouring the shots. “Pardon me?”
He did the stupidest show of bowing down with his hand over his head and then added in the most antagonistic voice. “Pardon me!”
Isabel’s face warmed in reaction as the people around her chuckled. He poured a few more shots. “You in, narc?” he asked, looking at her with a smartassed smirk.
“Easy Ramon,” Alex said.
“Yes, pour her one, please,” Valerie, said.
Isabel’s jaw dropped then remembered how hard it must be for Valerie to be here, standing so close to the man she used to be hopelessly in love with.
Ramon pulled out another shot glass. “Coming right up.” He was your typical muscle head. Isabel expected no less from Alex’s friends. Though he wasn’t as big as Alex, she could see even under his dress shirt he had enough muscle to draw attention from most girls.
She ignored the shot in front of her for as long as she could, until he finally called her on it. “So, did I pour that for nothing?”
Valerie turned to her then to Ramon. “Romero, this is my roommate, Isabel. Isabel, this is Romero.”
“I thought it was Ramon.”
His expression hardened. “It’s Romero.” He pushed the shot closer to her.
Isabel turned to Valerie, exasperated—the things she did for her. Grudgingly, she took the shot. Romero smiled as she grimaced, feeling the alcohol warm her throat.
“Want another one?”
“No.” Her voice was hoarse and he laughed.
“Is that your first shot ever, narc?”
“My name is Isabel.”
He smirked. “Too long. But all right, is that your first shot, Izzy?”
It was better than narc, and it wasn’t the first time she’d been called that, so she didn’t protest, staring at him as she sucked on a lime. “No, it’s not.”
His golden brown eyes seemed to sparkle in amusement as he poured more shots. The crowd that was there when they arrived had dispersed. Just Isabel and Valerie—who stood right behind her, talking to Alex—were the only ones still there, leaving Romero to scrutinize only her. She pushed her glasses up, trying not to stare at his impressive forearms as he poured the shots. “Take another one.”
Isabel stared at the shots in front of him: one for him, one for her. “I’m driving.” She lifted her chin.
“It’s early. You’ll be fine.” He took his shot and smiled at her.
She turned, hoping Valerie could get her out of this, but both she and Alex were gone. Really? Already? After all they’d gone over on their way there? She hadn’t even noticed them walk away. Her shoulders slumped, and she took the shot, immediately sucking on a lime. Romero grinned from ear to ear. “You see? And you were fighting it.”
“That’s my last one.” Her voice was a rasp. “I mean it.” She’d never understand why people enjoyed doing shots.
Romero set the bottle aside and leaned his elbows onto the bar. “So how come I’ve never met you? You and Valerie been friends long?”
Unlike most guys who tried being discreet, he did nothing to hide the fact he was taking her in completely. She felt utterly invaded by the way his eyes went from her hair to her cleavage. They even spent some time on her hands. She tried hiding her unease with his bald-faced demeanor. “Years, we met in college.”
“College girl, huh? What are you doing now?”
Isabel still felt the burn in her throat from the two shots. “I’m a teacher. And you?”
She was used to limited eye contact when first meeting someone. Not Romero. He seemed to seek her eyes out and then smile confidently. “I should’ve known.”
“What does that mean?” She’d heard this before. Even with her mom being a teacher, she knew most people’s image of a teacher—straight-laced, unattractive, mousy women, usually with a ridiculous bun in their hair.
“I’m just sayin’.”
“You’re saying what?” She lifted her eyebrow.
It was annoying the way every one of her statements or questions seemed to amuse him. “You look like a teacher.”
She felt herself warm inside. “And what exactly does a teacher look like?”
The corner of his mouth lifted as he blatantly looked her over again. “Sweet … and sexy, apparently.”
She felt the heat rush to her face, and Romero smiled even bigger. “Did I embarrass you?”
“No,” she said too quickly. “You didn’t answer my question. What do you do?”
“I just started my own business this year.” He poured another shot and lifted it to her.
She shook her head. Not even one more. “What kind of business?”
He didn’t even bother with a lime after downing the shot he poured. “I’m in the security business.”
Of course. “Like a bodyguard?”
“Somethin’ like that.” Isabel studied his stubborn jaw and the way he’d smirk at everyone he glanced at, as if he had some kind of inside joke going with each one. She wondered if she was the joke. Here was this tough-looking bodyguard or whatever he was, having some fun with the nervous schoolteacher at the bar. She was glad now that Valerie had convinced her to wear her hair down, well, half down. The front was still up in a barrette, but she let the back hang loose.
Angel came by, looking for something behind the bar.
“What do you need?” Romero asked.
“Water.” He bent down still searching. “Didn’t you bring bottled waters out here?”
Romero shook his head. “I’m in charge of the booze, Son. Fuck the water.”
Angel frowned, shaking his head. “Useless.”
“Take a shot, Angel. You need to relax.”
Angel barely glanced at him and stalked away.
“So you’re in charge of getting everyone drunk?” Isabel noticed ever since her last shot, Romero’s eyes kept making their way back to one place, especially when she spoke—her lips. It unnerved her. Had he no tact at all?
“Yep, you ready for another?” He reached for the bottle.
“No. I’m not having anymore.”
“Sure you will.”
He was so damn sure of himself. “No, I won’t.”
“You will,” he said, looking up behind her with a smile. “Ready for another one, big guy?”
Angel and Alex walked up to the bar. Angel had a box of bottled waters, and Alex held a box of some other kind of bottled beverage. Isabel glanced around but didn’t see Valerie. “Where did Valerie go?”
Then she saw it. Alex looked visibly shaken. He wasn’t the same Alex as when they’d walked in. Great. Something happened already. “I’m out.” He said, his jaw tight.
“What?” both Angel and Romero said almost at the same time.
“I gotta go to the restaurant. I’ll be back.” He walked away without even glancing at Isabel.
“That guy works too much,” Romero said.
Isabel searched around the backyard. She hadn’t even noticed how many more people had arrived. Every table in the big backyard was just about full, and there were many people still standing. Then she spotted Valerie. She stood at the opening of the canopy that covered the entire backyard. Something was definitely wrong. She slipped off the bar stool, grabbing her purse.
“Where you going?” Romero asked.
“To see about Valerie.”
“Bring her over here.”
Isabel pressed her lips together as she hurried to Valerie. Yeah, that’s exactly what Valerie needs—to get drunk and stupid, just in time for when Alex got back.
***
Romero
“Will you move?” Romero made way for Angel to finish dumping the bottled waters into the ice chest next to the bar. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Isabel. His first impression of her when he saw her walk up to the bar was that he knew she’d be uptight. He was right—definitively not his type, if he even had a type. But he knew for sure uptight schoolteachers weren’t it—or at least he knew he wasn’t their type.
He just hadn’t expected her to be fun. He’d never met someone whose facial expressions did so much telling. From the moment he called her narc, he noticed it. Everything he said or did, her face had so much to say about it. From the way her eyebrows pinched in to the way her eyes opened wide at some of his comments. And her lips were something else: the way she pressed them together suddenly and they fell open in the next instant. He’d also never seen anyone blush so instantaneously. Her face turned beet red in a blink of an eye. It was highly entertaining.
“Don’t even.”
Romero turned to look at Angel, who glanced at Isabel then back at him. “What?”
“Sarah said she’s a brain—not for you.”
“What? You don’t think I’ve banged a few brains in my time?” He tried not to show how annoyed Angel’s comment made him.
“Easy,” Eric said, as he walked up to the bar.
Romero glanced at Eric then glared back at Angel. Angel laughed. “Trust me, she’s not your type. She’s got some class. Don’t go embarrassing her either. Sarah said she’s shy.”
Romero shook off Angel’s comments when he saw Isabel was on her way back to the bar without Valerie and smirked. “Too late.”
Both Angel and Eric followed Romero’s wicked smile. “Be cool,” Angel warned.
“Always,” Romero said, pouring himself a beer from the keg.
Angel walked away, holding several bottles of water in his hands. Eric asked for a cup, and Romero handed it to him. Isabel seemed down when she reached the bar. “Where’s Valerie?”
Isabel took a seat at the bar. “She went to the ladies’ room.”
“You mean restroom.”
Her eyebrows pinched. “What’s the difference?”
“We’re at someone’s house, not a public place. So there is no ladies’ or men’s room.”
She pushed her glasses up, frowning. He stared at the design on her French tip nails that he noticed earlier. He reached for her hand and found it was soft, just as he expected. She flinched at his touch but didn’t take her hand back. He pulled her hand gently to him for a closer look. This close, he saw it was the letter M in calligraphy. He glanced up at her but didn’t ask. It obviously didn’t stand for Isabel. He let her hand go, and she glanced around, not offering an explanation.
“You wanna beer?”
Her lips twitched slightly. “You have wine?”
There was another ice chest off to the side with some wine bottles chilling. He’d never been into wine or into chicks who drank wine. He glanced back at her as he pulled two bottles of wine out. White and pink—was the only distinction he saw. She asked for the blush, which he assumed to be the pink, and poured her a glass.
He noticed the keychain that hung out of her purse with the San Diego Padres’ emblem. “So you’re a fan?” He gestured to the keychain after placing the cup of wine in front of her.
She frowned. “I was, but after the year they had last year, I dunno. The Diamond Backs are starting to look good.”
“What?” Romero stared at her in disbelief, loving the way her startled eyes opened wide. “You don’t just turn your back on your team when they have a bad year.”
“One? They’ve had like three or four in a row.” She sipped her wine.
Romero shook his head adamantly. “You from the San Diego area originally?”
“Laguna. I moved to La Jolla after college.”
“Close enough. Number-one rule for a true sports fan. You’re born to your team. Choice was never an option. And even if you move away, that’s your team forever. You carry the keychain around daily. You should know that.”
Isabel laughed, and he finally got to see what her face looked like lit up. All her cute expressions had slowly given away that she wasn’t as uptight as he initially thought—now that sweet smile that brightened her entire face was another tell-tale sign. He gulped hard. She was something else.
“No, I didn’t know that. Thanks for enlightening me.” They talked for a while longer about the Padres. Then he asked a few random questions about where she got her nails done, and they made small talk about the horrible parking at the mall, but after seeing her bring the tip of her thumb to her mouth for the second time, the M on her finger stared at him. He finally asked something that actually interested him. “So who’s the M for?”
Her eyes did the asking.
“The M on your nail.” Romero handed her a second glass of wine.
“Wow, this is a lot,” she said, taking the cup. “Maybe I can pour half of it in another cup for Valerie.”
He watched her take a sip, and he waited, taking a swig of his beer. She glanced around, looking antsy.
“Izzy?”
She looked back at him. Again she didn’t even have to speak, her eyes expressed her confusion.
He couldn’t help smiling. “The M on your nail. Who’s it for?”
She brought her hands up to look at her nails again. “Oh, my name.”
“Your name’s Isabel.”
“My last name is Montenegro.”
Romero took a big satisfying drink of his beer then said, “Ms. Montenegro. Is that what your students call you?”
She nodded. “Romero is your last name, right?”
“Yep.”
“So how come you don’t go by your first name?”
He shrugged. “Never have.”
“Why?”
“Long story. I just don’t.” He turned away from her questioning eyes. “You sure Valerie didn’t leave?”
“No, I’m driving. She didn’t bring her car,” she sighed. “But she is taking long. I hope she’s okay.”
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
She seemed apprehensive but finally said, “I think she was upset about something she and Alex talked about.”
“Ah,” Romero nodded, remembering all the drama those two had gone through over the years. “The never-ending booty call.”
“Is that what he calls it?”
“No.” He smirked at her murderous glare. “It’s what I call it. Those two have been going back and forth forever. They should just get it together or get it over with.”
“Well, it’s been over with for a year now.”
“Hmm,” he chuckled, bringing his cup to his mouth.
“It has been,” she insisted.
“So why is she still getting upset about something he says?”
Her lips pressed shut. Romero couldn’t help feeling smug as she glanced away. Then her expression changed—softened. “That must be Sal.”
Romero turned to see Angel’s oldest brother being greeted by Angel and Sarah. “Yeah, that’s him.” He turned back to her. “Why?”
“I’ve heard a lot about Alex’s brothers. He looks just like them.”
Sal was still working on his master’s in business management, something no doubt Valerie had mentioned to Isabel—exactly the kind of guy Isabel was probably into. Of course, even without the education, Angel and his brothers always got this kind of reaction from chicks. He watched her, feeling a little disgusted, as her eyes lingered in Sal’s direction for too long. Her dark eyes almost twinkled. For some reason, he thought women like Isabel would be immune to this kind of shit, but her eyes even brightened, and then there was an all-out smile.
Romero turned, fully expecting to see Sal giving her the same goo-goo eyes. Instead, he saw Valerie walking toward the bar, also smiling. Sal wasn’t even within eyesight anymore. As Valerie got closer, he could see her eyes were a little red.
“Are you okay?” Isabel asked as soon as she was close enough.
“Just dandy,” she said to Isabel, then to Romero she said, “I need a shot. In fact line them up. I’m gonna need more than one.”
“Valerie, don’t,” Isabel warned.
“You said you’re driving, right?” Romero poured the shot.
“Yeah, but—”
“So what’s the problem? If she needs a few shots, she needs a few shots.”
Valerie didn’t share anything about why she was feeling down. Isabel didn’t push either. Romero sensed it wasn’t something they wanted to talk about in front of him. He almost left them alone to talk, but then Valerie said something that made him stop and pour himself another beer. “Did you meet Sal?”
Romero pretended to concentrate on pouring his beer with as little head as possible, as if he hadn’t had it down to an art since high school.
“No, but I saw him.”
“What did you think?”
It’s not like he cared. He wouldn’t even begin to pretend he and Isabel could possibly have anything in common. But the thought of a seeing those cute facial expressions while she lay under him had begun to cross his mind. He had to know now if Sal was going to be doing some cock-blocking.
“He’s exactly like you described—Alex, only not as huge.”
“I’ll introduce you if you want. He’ll probably come by a little later. He just makes me a little nervous.” Valerie put out her empty shot glass for a refill.
Romero took it. “Why’s that?” He poured the tequila a little higher this time. “Why does Sal make you nervous?”
Valerie glanced around. “I don’t know. He’s a perfect gentleman and all, but he’s so smart.”
“That’s stupid. He’s just like Angel and Alex, only he’s gone to school longer than them.”
He saw Valerie’s eyebrow shoot up when he used the word stupid. But it was. So he stayed in school longer, that made him different? Romero grew up with all three. Only difference with Sal is he could hold out longer before blowing a fuse, but it’s not like he never had. And unlike his brothers, he’d never gotten hung up on any one girl, but there certainly wasn’t a shortage of them.
“I know,” she said sounding a little defensive. “For some reason, he just makes me nervous, okay?”
Romero rolled his eyes. “I’ll introduce you, Izzy.” He handed Valerie her shot, “That is, if you really want to meet him.”
He glanced at her casually and saw she blushed again, but not quite as dark as she had when he called her sexy. “If I meet him, I meet him. Don’t go out of your way.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. He certainly wouldn’t. As luck would have it, by the time Sal made it over to the bar, the girls had gone over and sat with Sarah and the other bridesmaids. Isabel spent the rest of the evening away from the bar, and Romero found himself fighting the annoying urge to look her way every five minutes.