“Pretty, huh?” Lulu asked.
Anamaría bobbed her head. A mixture of pride and sadness clogged her throat, making it impossible for her to speak. He was good. Like, really really good. It made it impossible for her to begrudge him for following his dream. For loving it more than he had loved her. Especially when his talent allowed him to share the stunning way he viewed the world with others.
“If you like this one, I can frame a copy for your bedroom,” Alejandro offered his niece.
“Sí, p’ease.” Lulu’s toddler speak had him chuckling, their shared smile sweet, but hard to watch when it evoked unwanted what-ifs in Anamaría’s heart.
There’d been a time when her room could have served as an Alejandro Miranda photograph exhibit. One on the wall over her bed. Another on her nightstand. A third keeping watch on her desk. Each taken at their favorite spots around Key West. Astro City across from Higgs Beach, the site of their first kiss with July Fourth fireworks illuminating the night sky above them. Sunset off Snipes Point on her papi’s boat, the Salvación. One of her taken here, in his familia’s backyard, laughing at some joke they had shared, the flamboyán tree a blur of fiery red behind her. He’d captured her staring directly at the camera. Her expression brimming with love and joy for the young man who evoked those emotions in her.
Until that had no longer been the truth.
Now all those photos were in a box in the back of her closet. And she . . . she did not need to be here, derailing her hard-earned professional momentum because a ghost from her past had suddenly decided to come back and haunt her.
“That picture will look great in your room, Lulu.” Pushing off her knees, Anamaría rose from her haunches. “I should be going.”
“Hey!” Alejandro reached for her hand, their fingers lacing together.
An electric current zigzagged up her wrist, into her arm. Anamaría stared down at their joined hands, despising the conflicting emotions rioting inside her.
“Don’t let the moms stress you out,” he said. “I’ll talk to mine. Remind her that my stay here is temporary. My dad’s already made it clear I’m not wanted here. She knows that. Besides, I’ve got jobs booked later in the year and I’m waiting to hear back on one I’m really excited about.”
Of course, he was already planning his escape. Because his life was out there. Not here.
“And you”—he jiggled their joined hands—“I’ve seen your social media reach expanding. Which should translate to an uptick in clients and your business expanding. Neither one of us needs our family getting in our way, trying to stop us. They need to back the hell off.”
He was right. Even though well-intentioned, the meddling was obnoxious. Their moms’ warped way of showing how much they cared.
But he was also wrong: their moms weren’t trying to stop her, or him, from succeeding. They only wanted—
“Wait, you follow me?” Her surprised question slipped out unbidden.
Alejandro blinked, a guilty expression chasing across his handsome face. “I . . . peek at your social media feed. Once in a while.” He cleared his throat, his frown deepening. “And may have sampled a recipe, or two, from your website.”
“Oh really?” The idea that maybe he hadn’t been able to completely forget, the satisfaction his admission gave her, felt good.
Petty maybe, but definitely gratifying.
It made the years she had wasted settling for mostly happy feel not quite as one-sided.
Because until her cousin Vanessa’s beachside tequila-fueled enough-is-enough speech during a girls’ weekend in Miami two years ago, that’s exactly how Anamaría had been living. Clocking in and out of the fire station alongside her brothers and Papi. Relegating AM Fitness to a side hustle she dreamed about growing but never did. Dating a few guys, kind of.
Empty margarita glass high in the air like a tipsy bikini-clad Lady Liberty on the shores of South Beach, Vanessa had laid out her ultimatums for Anamaría’s new start in life.
Time to stop spinning her wheels and set up her website, post her videos, grow her damn business instead of simply paying it lip service.
Stop dating the wrong men. Like Henry, the sailor, destined to ship out after his tour of duty at the naval base. And Edgardo, the firefighter from Miami, biding his time in Key West until he landed a job with a station closer to his home, which he eventually did. Both were men who would inevitably leave her, as she cursed them for doing.
Alejandro released her fingers and rubbed at his now-smooth jaw. “To be honest, my mom mentioned that you were showing her how to use Instagram a while back, and I started checking out your feed. Then I hopped onto your YouTube channel. You’ve got something good going, AM. Smart play off your nickname for your business. I’m happy for you.”
Not happy enough to send her a simple DM to say congrats. Although, who’s to say she would have responded to a direct message from him. But she might have . . . what?
She didn’t need praise from him. Now she buoyed herself. Or relied on her familia, who would never walk away from her.
Even when Luis and Enrique had been at odds with each other for years after everything with Luis’s ex, her brothers had never cut ties completely. Not that their mother would have allowed it.
Yeah, familia she could count on.
Love and men? Not so much.
“Tengo hambre,” Lulu announced, setting the iPad on her lap and rubbing a hand over her tummy.
“You know what, chiquita? Me too. Why don’t we raid the kitchen and see how we can fill your belly, huh?” Alejandro tickled her round stomach and Lulu squealed with glee. He barked with laughter, the deep timbre a foil for the little girl’s high-pitched giggle.
Anamaría tore her gaze from the heartwarming play. Joining their fun, letting her guard down with Alejandro, would be like snipping off a piece of the fuchsia bougainvillea vines trailing along the backyard privacy wall. Beautiful, but if she tried to hold on to it, she’d wind up pricking her fingers on the sharp thorns.
“Do you, uh, you wanna eat with us?”
Anamaría’s eyes fluttered closed at Alejandro’s hesitant invitation. She knew she’d enjoy their company, but... “I need to be go—”
The sliding glass door rumbled open and she broke off.
“Lunch is on the table for everyone,” Señora Miranda announced, all smiles and sunshine. No sign of guilt for her sneaky maneuver. “Come, let’s eat together.”
“Yay! I hung’y, ’Buela!” Lulu tucked the iPad back along Alejandro’s hip, then wiggled to slide off his lap. She hop-skipped over to her abuela, who held out a hand for her precious granddaughter. Together the pair disappeared inside, leaving Anamaría and Alejandro alone.
“You don’t have to stay,” Alejandro said. “We can’t let our mothers ride roughshod over us. At least, I don’t intend to let that happen. And I definitely don’t intend on letting mine disrupt either of our lives with her meddlesome plotting.”
Anamaría stepped closer and dropped her voice, not putting it past Señora Miranda to eavesdrop. “Complaining about it hasn’t seemed to work. You got any other ideas?”
“Like?” His baffled frown told her he remained clueless.