Page 24 of Mark & Don't Tell

“Uh, yes. Hi.” I head over to her and hold out my hand.

She shakes her head and struggles to her feet. “Family doesn’t shake hands.” She takes me into her arms and hugs me, accepting me as quickly as Letti did.

My heart clenches, and the little girl inside of me who begged her mother for hugs weeps, but I block out the memories and focus on the moment. Though she smells like lilacs and her bones feel frail, there’s strength in her hold. Like she’s been through her own shit and come out stronger.

“Daria! Mamá,” Letti calls. “Come get your plate before these animals eat everything.”

“She’s right, we should go,” her mother says as she steps out of my arms. “I’m Alma, by the way.” Her knuckles turn white as she clutches the cane, and I move to help her, but she waves her hand. “I’m fine.”

“Sorry.”

She shoots me a look. “Don’t be. I’m stubborn—ask any of my kids.”

Chuckling at that, I walk by her side into the kitchen, refusing to leave her behind. All eyes fall to me and Alma as we enter. Vic’s gaze cuts through me before he glances at his mom.

“Let the girl go first,” Alma says, and each of her children steps back to let me through.

“Oh, no, you should go first.”

Alma squints at me. I bite my cheek, glancing at Vic for some reason. He arches an eyebrow as if to say just do what she says, and I nod.

“Okay, but you’re next,” I tell her.

She grins at me and dips her head in agreement. Letti squeezes my arm as I pass, thanking me, and I grab my plate, studiously avoiding Vic as I get my things. Him being here complicates things. Unlike my mother, family means everything to Letti. Vic and I might’ve had sex, but it was one time. One, life-changing time...

I shake my head, as though to clear it. This is a simple dinner. It’s not like he’s going to bend me over the table and smack my ass.

It’s just dinner.

How awkward can it be?

Ten

DARIA

This is the worst. The table, while new, is barely big enough for everyone. Somehow, I ended up smashed between my dad Nico at the head of the table and Vic at my side. I’ve avoided acknowledging him as we eat, but he’s not making it easy. Our arms brush every time we reach for our drinks, and each time, electricity zaps through me. I thank god Alma is at the other end of the table, thoroughly distracted by her other children and oblivious to how much her youngest son has a hold on me.

“And when Letti didn’t get her way, she ran away,” Alejandro says with a shit-eating grin as he recounts one birthday when Letti didn’t get the presents she wanted and demanded new ones.

Vic chuckles next to me, and the sound rolls down my spine, eliciting a shiver. As I reach for my drink, he moves for his too, causing our arms to slide over one another’s.

Except . . . did he do that on purpose?

“You’re making it sound more dramatic than it was,” Letti says with a sigh.

I peek at Vic and bite my lip when I catch his gaze on me. Curiosity and lust burn in the depths of those rich brown irises, spelling trouble. Trouble I desperately want to play with. His eyes drop to my mouth.

“And then Vic decided if Letti got to run away, maybe he should too.”

Ripping his gaze from mine, he shakes his head. “No, I went after this fool so those assholes down the street wouldn’t try to mess with her.”

Letti and Vic start arguing in Spanish, and it’s dramatic enough, and so very brother-sister of them, that I grin. Marco and I used to argue like that. I pull out my phone and shoot off a quick text to my half-brother as everyone laughs at Vic and Letti.

Hey, loser. What’s up?

Marco

You insult me and expect me to respond?

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