“Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “With, like, pies and shit?”
He shrugged. “More like apples and oranges.”
I huffed. “Yeesh. Is that supposed to convince me?”
“Ah, it’s not so bad.” He waved a hand. “And it’s family… It looks like you could use a little bit of that while you’re hiding out here. So the invitation is open.”
“Inviting people to my home, Ferguson?” A deadpanned voice asked from behind us.
Something told me I knew who it belonged to before I even looked. Turning, I wasn’t surprised when I was met with nothing but black.
When I’d faced him on the sidewalk in front of the shop, I hadn’t taken much of him in, too blind with aggravation to see or care what he looked like. Now I saw every bit of her in him. Dark hair, olive skin, brown eyes, similar builds though he was pretty tall compared to her. And if there was one thing that was the same about Alta’s brother now as it was on the street, was that rigid scowl on his face.
“Oxy! What’s got your panties twisted today?” Clay said, looking genuinely excited to see the man.
“Nothing,” he said, but snuck a sidelong glance at Clay. “I thoughtwewere meeting here. I wasn’t aware there were other parties.”
“I know, I know. But you gotta share me, babydoll.” Clay smirked. “Plus Montez is cool. Montez, this is my brother-in-law.”
Standing, I reached out a hand. He did the same grasping mine in a perfect shake. He refrained from any macho man hand crushing tactics but lost when it came to restraining the disdain in his voice. “A man of many names, I see. Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” I said, even though it had yet to be all that nice. “It’s really just the few names though. And you’re Ox right?”
“Oaxaca,” he corrected sternly.
I blinked.
The thing about a name preceding a person, is you had to have the name right to be fully impacted. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’d heard and comprehended that Alta’s brother was called Ox and I already knew her last name was Fernandez. But it wasn’t untilI’d heard his name from his mouth and seen his gruff, grumpy face and thought about it for a little more than a second, that I knew.
“No shit,” I let the words slip freely from my tongue as I took him in with fresh eyes. Because the Oaxaca Fernandez I’d heard stories about—the one related to the Ronaldo Fernandez who was almost as legendary as Clay’s entire family, was standing right in front of me. And I’m pretty sure he hated me. That thought was pushed aside by the flash of brown eyes in my mind. Big and stormy. That meant…. I felt my eyebrows dip together in confusion. “So she…”
“Correct,” he clipped out of nowhere. Stepping forward. “She is all the things I’m sure you’re realizing right now. But one thing she’s not is your piggy bank, so I don’t know what kind of game you’re running with my sister, but it had better stop.”
My eyes narrowed. Was this guy for real? He had to be by the way he was glaring at me. But why? What part of my demeanor said I wanted to use his sister for money?
Just then, the bartender came by with my bill sliding it and my card across the bar. “Your receipt, Mr. Harper.”
“Thank you,” I said and scooped up the black card before scribbling an appropriate tip. I could feel dark eyes on me, and when I turned to meet the heated gaze, they were accompanied by a set jaw. I shouldered past him, saying, “I’ve got my own money, man. That’s not what I want from your sister.”
I was content to leave it at that. Him, not so much.
“Then what?” He persisted, voice sharp.
I shrugged, but it was the opposite of the way I was feeling. It was hard to describe, my emotions akin to a tidal wave crashing through my system.
And looking at her brother now, I couldn’t help the small bit of truth that slipped from my lips—what I really wanted from her.
“Everything else.”
Chapter Fifteen
ALTA
“What are you doing?”
I immediately snapped my open planner closed at the sound of the familiar voice above my head. Lately work had been a tedious place to be. My brother was nowhere to be found, I was avoiding my sister, and Grace hated me every bit as much as always. Maybe even more after I’d left her to clean up my mess last time.
It was a hostile environment to say the least. So no one could blame me for letting myself actually enjoy my desk-time when I was bored all day, right?
