Page 21 of Painting Celia

She covered her mouth with her fingertips and frowned at the tabletop.

“Celia?”

Her half-dazed eyes finally returned to his, a smile beginning to play at her lips. She lowered her hand. “Is twice a week too much?”

He slowly shook his head. “That’s not bad.”

The pool house. It had that little bed, a bathroom, and a tiny fridge. He could paint near the window overlooking the city view. And the price—he couldn’t pass it up.

He leaned in. “I’ll need privacy sometimes, a lot of times, to concentrate on my work.”

“I can give you privacy,” she said, crossing her arms in her lap and holding her elbows.

Her smile was nice.

She leaned forward to meet him. “You should know, Andrew and the rest, they all come over to eat once or twice a week.”

In unison, they glanced over to Kelsey and Trevor.

Both were staring back at them, mouths open. Andrew leaned on the wall just behind Kelsey, arms crossed over his chest, smug as all hell.

“What?” León asked.

Without turning her head or closing her mouth, Kelsey elbowed Trevor.

“Celia is usually…more reserved,” he said.

León turned to look at Celia again. No way could she possibly be ‘more reserved.’

Her gaze darted around the eyes on her, a blush once again setting her cheeks alight.

“Surprise,” she said softly.

•••

It was a wobblier crew that emerged from the bar into the late-afternoon heat. Trevor accepted a ride from Kelsey while Andrew announced he’d be going back in. Celia would drive León back to his place to start packing. She still sported bright red cheeks despite not having sipped a single drink.

Andrew encouraged Celia to go get her car and bring it to the entry. León, he stopped from accompanying her.

With an amused grin, Andrew stepped up to look León over, straightening imaginary lapels on León’s hoodie and giving him a sharpish pat on the cheek.

“Finally moving out of Papa’s place,” he teased. “Good luck.”

León rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. A place to paint!

“Just one thing,” Andrew said, his smile fading. “I want you to be nice to Celia.”

Uh, insulting! “Of course, I’m going to be nice to her! Why would you say something like that?”

“You can be pushy, León,” Andrew said. “Don’t take advantage of her, okay?”

León’s throat tightened, but he stood taller, meeting Andrew’s eyes. “Why don’t you tell the little queen to be nice to me?”

“She doesn’t need telling.” Smiling again, Andrew held out a hand. When León grasped it, he was hauled in for a hug. León squirmed out of the embrace as Celia pulled up.

“Don’t worry, we’re going to get along, Papa,” León said, getting in and closing the door harder than he intended.

Andrew stooped to look in, and León watched the window roll down on its own. Oh, of course, Celia had control buttons. That gin may have been stronger than he thought.

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