Why hadn’t she just said no?
But she hadn’t, and so they were having tacos at a corner table at Manny’s Cantina. The Cantina was her sister-in-law Maria’s favorite place in the world, and it was rapidly becoming Lily’s as well—despite the trauma of having nearly killed the owner.
This was Manny’s first night back at work since his heart attack. He hadn’t been out of the hospital long. But it was hard for him to stay away.
Fred was trying to eat a taco without letting any of the filling spill out and having a heck of a time. Lily took a careless bite, letting beans squish out the other end and fall onto the plate, dripping salsa onto her chin. Maybe if she was sloppy it would put him at ease. He seemed so tense he might break.
He was older than she, early thirties, maybe, light-brown hair in a deep side part that might be hiding some thinning. He was taller than her, so she’d never seen the top of his head before, as she did when he bent over his taco.
The kitchen doors swung open, and Manny came through them. “Well, hello there, Miss Lily,” he drawled, in a voice meant to carry. “This here angel saved my life,” he told everyone within earshot.
Not an angel, and I damn near killed him, she thought.
There was a smattering of applause from a few of the other patrons. Then Manny spoke lower, just for her, not the whole place. “Thanks, Lily, for that and for your help these past two weeks,” he said. “I don’t know what Rosa and the girls would’ve done without you and your father. Though I do admit, I was jealous you weren’t at the hospital taking care of me.”
He was lucky she hadn’t been at the hospital taking care of him. Aloud, she said, “Well, I still have some more time, so I’ll hang out a little longer.”
Manny’s jet-black waves were streaked with white, and his face had aged years in a couple of weeks. The light in his eyes was still only gleaming at half-power, she thought. He looked…drained.
Fred cleared his throat, reminding her he was still there. “Oh, I’m sorry. Manny, this is my co-worker, Fred.”
“Hello, Fred,” Manny said, deepening his voice a little, as men did, she’d noticed, when speaking to other men.
Fred nodded hello, and then a big red pickup truck rolled into the parking lot just the other side of the wide front windows, and Lily almost lowered her head and closed her eyes. Why was Ethan Brand here, of all places, at this particular moment?
Ethan got out of his truck, his long legs reaching the ground easily. She had to use the running board to step up, and even then it was a bit high. He met her eyes through the window and touched the brim of his hat. She’d kind of fallen for men in cowboy hats since moving down here. New York men didn’t wear them. And those who did, didn’t wear them…the same way.
She nodded back and saw Fred look where she was looking. “Seems like you know everyone here,” he said.
“I live twenty minutes away,” she said, still watching Ethan. He’d shifted his attention to Manny.
Manny said, “Looks like your cuz-in-law wants a word. You give me a yell if you need anything.” Then he turned, meeting Ethan at the door, and the two of them went to a table way on the other side. She was curious. Surely Ethan hadn’t driven all this way just to have tacos, not the way his aunt fed people under her roof. And he’d had something in his hand, a folder. She’d been so busy watching his eyes and his mouth and wondering what his lips would taste like, that she hadn’t noticed it right away.
Could he have known she’d be there? Lily wondered. On a date? With a man? Who wasn’t him?
Manny and Ethan sat opposite each other at a little table just the other side of the juke box, left of the bar and double kitchen doors. There were only a handful of patrons at tables in between. Gringo Sombrero sat in his usual spot, all the way over by the right wall, his long legs stretched out, boots crossed at the ankles, drink in front of him. There was a couple she saw there often, and a table full of out-of-towners. There were a few locals she recognized. She was getting to know folks in Quinn.
“This has been fun,” Fred said, again making her realize she’d been ignoring his presence. That was rude and not like her. She might want to be rude sometimes, but she almost never gave in to the urge. It’s not the way her mother would have acted, so it wasn’t the way her only daughter, namesake, and doppelgänger, should act.
“I’m sorry, Fred. I don’t mean to be so distracted. I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Oh?” Shoot, he was waiting for her to elaborate. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” she replied. “It’s personal.” She couldn’t help that her gaze slid toward Manny and Ethan sitting on the other side. Ethan slid his folder across the table to Manny. Manny shook his head and slid it back.
“Okay, good.” Fred got up and she faced him again. Oh, shoot, he looked pissed. He took a ten-spot from his wallet and dropped it on the table. “See you at work,” he said.
She got to her feet. “Wait, are you…angry with me for some reason?”
“No, I like going on dates and being ignored,” he said.
“Well, it’s gonna take another five to cover your half of the meal and tip there, Prince Charming,” she shot back, loud enough to be heard inside. She damn near clapped a hand over her mouth. Who the hell’s voice was that?
Fred sent her a furious glare, pulled out his wallet, found a five-dollar bill, and dropped it onto the table, not caring that one end landed in the sour cream. Then he pivoted and strode away, straight out of the Cantina. He slammed his car door to show her how mad he was, and pulled out way too fast. What a jerk.
She looked at the tacos, at the money, decided to leave the cash for a tip, and pay with her card, and got up to take care of the bill—because, honestly, she was dying to know what was going on between Manny and Ethan. She went up to the bar, which brought her within earshot, and slid onto a stool to wait for someone to come and take her payment.
“You don’t understand, Manny,” Ethan was saying. “I don’t want it.”
