Page 21 of Curvy Love

Mama crosses herself again and closes her eyes.

“Well, yes, but that’s not what I meant. We were on our second date. But when you know, you know. She feels it, too.”

My heart pounds at the thought. “You think so?” I ask.

Isabel comes and links her arm with mine. She and I have been the two single Vargas siblings, both of our older sisters are married. “I saw the way she looked at you, Alex. She feels the same way. You owe it to yourself to at least try.”

Her eyes tear up and I know what she’s not saying. That she lost her first love—a Marine buddy of mine—and it would be selfish of me to not go after mine. I know she wishes she had told him how she felt before we left for war. Now she just has regrets.

“I need to bring her something,” I say.

“Flowers are dumb,” Toni says.

“You just say that because Rick never brings you any,” Connie says.

I shake my head and look at Mama. “You have any of abuelita’stres lechescake?”

She nods. “In the freezer.”

I run to get it out of the garage, and then I’m climbing in my truck with my mom and sisters standing on the front porch waving to me. They’re all crying and I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. I’m a lucky son of a bitch to have that many women love me.

It doesn’t take me long to find Laurel’s apartment complex. I have the cake container in my hand when I knock on the door.

She opens and her eyes widen in surprise when she sees me. Then she looks down at herself and winces. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

She’s wearing yoga pants and a tiny tank top that leaves nothing to my imagination. Her nipples pebble beneath my gaze.

“We have to talk,” I say, moving to enter her apartment.

“What’s in the container?”

“Tres lechescake.” I set it on the counter to my left, then crowd into Laurel’s space. “I’m going to say a bunch of things and you’re probably going to think I’m crazy, but just let me get them all out.”

She nods.

I start to talk, then stop and look around her apartment. It’s cute, cramped and compact. I lead her over to the sofa and we sit.

“I like you,” I say. Then I shake my head. “No, that’s a lie.”

“You don’t like me?” she asks.

“I more than like you. Fuck.” I scrape my fingers through my hair. “Laurel, I’m in love with you. I don’t want to be your one-night stand, I want to be your only night stand or your every night stand. You know what I mean. I’m really bad at this.”

She gives me a watery smile. “Keep going. You’re doing better than you think.”

I nod. “You’re so beautiful, smart and funny and you love food and I love to make food and you have sisters and understand why mine are crazy and when I look at you, I feel settled and centered in a way I haven’t since before I became a Marine. You’re my soft place,muñeca,and I don’t want us to be done before we even try. What do you say?”

“First, what does that mean? That thing you call me? Your sister said something about a doll.”

“It means my doll, it’s just a term of endearment in Spanish.”

Her smile is so dazzling I feel warmth radiate inside me.

“And those things you whispered to me that first night we were together? Do you remember what you said to me?”

“Si. Te ha amado desde siempre. Which means I’ve always loved you. I believe I said,quiero pasar mi vida contigo,which means I want to spend my life with you.”

“And there was another one.”

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