Page 104 of Easy Out

“Thank fuck.” I drop my head into her neck and savor the sound of Lauren’s laughter turning into moans as I lick and nip at her flesh.

I stay in this bubble for as long as I can knowing next week, she might hate me for not telling her the truth about her dad.

Fuck, I’m an asshole. I don’t deserve her. But hell, if I’m not going to do all I can to keep her.

23

LAUREN

I take a small sip of my sangria. It’s my second glass and I’m still wincing with each swallow. I’m not sure what’s in here exactly, but it’s strong as hell. Sylvie said it’s tradition. Her grandmother and mother made batches of it every holiday.

Sylvie and I are working side by side in her kitchen along with Victoria, Enzo and Marco’s mom. It’s kind of weird spending the holiday with my professor and his family.

It feels wrong.

Against the rules.

But she’s kind. Who am I kidding? Everyone is kind and wonderful after I finished my first glass of sangria. I love everyone.

I definitely love Hart and the way he looks in the button-down shirt he has on today. Yep. I’m switching to water before I say one of these random thoughts out loud. I push my sangria out of reach. Well, maybe one more sip.

“Mija? Are you okay over there? You're flushed.”

“It’s the sangria. It’s very strong.”

“You’ll get used to Sylvie’s cocktails. Wait until you have one of her margaritas,” Victoria shares.

“I’m not really much of a drinker.” Syd and I drink fruity seltzers, but the alcohol content is nonexistent compared to these bad boys.

I return my attention to peeling potatoes while Victoria is putting together a cheese and cracker board. Sylvie is chopping onions, carrots, and celery for the stuffing. The menu today is a mix of traditional recipes and Hart family favorites.

“How are Manny and Carlos doing? They didn’t want to come today?” I grimace.

“They did. I think they would have, but their mom…” I shake my head. It isn’t my business to share. Mrs. Garcia didn’t want them to leave home today. At least she was sober when I came by to see them and drop off breakfast this morning.

Carlos knows to call me or Carter if anything changes. I can’t imagine her staying that way all day. It would be a first.

“Please tell the boys they are always welcome here.”

“I will. I’ll see them tomorrow. We’re going to watch movies and hang out.”

“That sounds really nice,” Victoria says. It’s more than nice to me. I wonder if she would still think it’s nice if she was sitting on my thrifted couch in my run-down trailer.

I don’t like to judge people, but Victoria looks like someone who would consider afternoons getting her nails done and Sunday brunch with friends nice.

“Sylvie tells me you’ve been spending a lot of time with James and the boys.” If I wasn’t already flushed from the sangria, I would be now. I glance over Victoria’s shoulder into the living room where Hart, her sons, Mr. Morelli, and Stephen are watching football.

“Um. A little. I mean Hart and I are, uh.” I stop speaking and take a gulp of my drink seeing as I can’t seem to put a sentence together anyway.

“You and my James are in love, no?” Sylvie asks but it comes across as a statement of fact.

“I, well, yes,” I finally say. Both women grin at me. I blush further and stare at the pile of potatoes in front of me.

“I knew when he came to dinner.”

“We were still figuring everything out weeks ago. How could you tell?”

“Not weeks, mija. This was months ago." Months ago? She knew he was in love with me that long ago? “He had this look on his face. He seemed lighter. Happier. You healed a hurt in him. You got him to see he is more.” Sylvie’s eyes gloss over, and I know it’s not from the onions this time.

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