The Spanish Love Deception: Chapter 22

What an idiot I had been.

A big, dumb, foolish idiot.

Earlier that morning, when my alarm had gone off a little after dawn and I had slipped out of Aaron’s warm embrace quietly—but not panic-ridden—I had immediately regretted agreeing to meet my sister hours before the wedding. So, once I got everything packed and was ready to go, right before sneaking out the door without waking him up—even though I had learned by then that he, too, slept like the dead—I leaned very silently and brushed a soft kiss against his jaw. Because I didn’t want to go, not really, and I was a weak, weak woman when it came to him.

Just in case, I left Aaron a note, telling him that I’d see him in a few hours because I’d be getting ready with Isabel. Charo would be driving him to the wedding venue.

Be strong and don’t succumb, I wrote down.

Then, I signed it with, With love, Lina.

My choice of words had my heart skipping a beat, but I promised myself it wasn’t a big deal and left it there.

Not more than an hour after leaving the apartment, I started to miss him—like properly brooding and sighing and wondering what he was doing—so I texted him.

To which, he replied no more than a couple of minutes later.

That had me snorting so hard that the makeup artist ended up brushing eye shadow all across my forehead. She tried to play it cool, but I could tell she was pissed.

But none of that was the reason why I was pretty sure I was a big, dumb, foolish idiot.

Somehow, somewhere between slipping into my velvety fawn heels and the graceful, airy burgundy gown I was wearing, my head had started spinning questions. Important ones. Will I be able to find Aaron in the crowd? And also: Will he be okay? Will he get to the venue and find his seat? And the star of the show: Maybe I won’t see him until after the ceremony. What if I can’t find him?

So, when I came to my place to the right of the bride, on a glorious summer day, surrounded by arrangements of peonies in all shades of baby pink and pearly white, in front of the people who had seen us grow and turn into the women we were today, my head turned.

My gaze effortlessly zeroed in on a pair of ocean-blue eyes.

And all those questions immediately died out.

What a big, dumb, foolish idiot I had been to even question that my eyes wouldn’t be drawn to Aaron Blackford in a matter of seconds. How in the world could they not?

He was dazzling, standing under the sun in a navy-blue suit. And when he smiled, that wide and furtive grin that I was beginning to think was only for me, I swore he could have blinded me if I hadn’t blinked. That smile—Aaron’s smile, his handsome face, him completely and entirely—made my knees weak and my chest tight.

That was exactly why, once the ceremony ended and Gonzalo made a show out of eating Isabel’s face right then and there for everybody attending to see, I turned around on shaky legs. The crowd proceeded to throw rice and confetti as the bride and groom made their way down the aisle, and by the time they were jumping inside a yellow Volkswagen Beetle to drive to where they’d have a pre-dinner photo shoot, everybody started shuffling to the restaurant area. A quiet silence was left behind, except for the sound of my heart, which was trying to stumble right out of my throat.

Aaron waited by the exit, standing with his hands in the pockets of his navy pants and his jacket partly opened. Right where the rows of creamy chairs ended. A few tiny pieces of confetti stuck in his hair.

His gaze stayed on me as I walked down that aisle, my legs feeling like I was walking on sand. Heavy and clumsy.

Only when I reached him did he take a step toward me; it was fast and rushed, as if he had been stopping himself from running to me and couldn’t hold it in any longer.

I watched his throat work, his eyes swiping up and down and up again, eating up what was in front of them.

“You look like a dream.”

What a silly thing to tell me when it was him, the one who couldn’t be real. The one I couldn’t believe was here, making my chest full with things I didn’t understand.

I shook my head, trying to pull myself together enough to answer. “You look amazing, Aaron.”

His gaze searched my face for a brief moment, and whatever he found made him smile. Again, that grin. Only for me. What a lucky bitch I was.

Aaron offered his arm, and I struggled not to launch myself at him right then and there. “May I have the honor?” he asked slowly.

A deep belly laugh left my lips. Slowly, I took it. “Now, you are just pushing it.”

His palm fell on top of the one that was resting on the crook of his arm. “What do you mean?”

“Only romance heroes say stuff like that. And we are talking about the ones in a Jane Austen novel. Not even your run-of-the-mill romance hero would butter up a woman that much,” I explained as we moved forward, in the direction of the adjoining restaurant, where everybody else was, probably a glass of wine—or two—already in hand.

“In my book, having the most beautiful woman on my arm classifies as an honor.”

I hoped the foundation the makeup artist had had to apply for a second time covered the way my cheeks flushed. “If the bride so much as gets wind of what you are saying, you’ll be in so much trouble.” I heard his chuckle, but he didn’t retract his words. “She’ll kick you out of the wedding, and I will not be able to help you. You are too tall and big to sneak in, unnoticed.” And too damn handsome too, but I kept that part to myself.

Aaron chuckled again, the noise traveling down my spine and leaving a trail of shivers. I was finding it really hard to ignore how good his arm felt under my fingers or how right being tucked in his side was.

It was only when we were a few feet away from the open area, where all the invitees were gathered, that Aaron spoke, “It would be worth it, you know.”

My head turned, taking in his profile as he kept his gaze up front.

“For seeing you in that dress and having you enter any place on my arm, I’d endure pretty much anything.”

My lips parted, and had Aaron not been providing his support, I would have tumbled down to the floor, rolled the rest of the way, and probably stopped only when my back came against a chair or a table.

“Even your sister’s rage.”

Then, a flash went off right in our faces, snapping me out of my trance.

Blinking away the bright white spots, I got a glimpse of a camera.

“Maravilloso!” a high-pitched voice I was well acquainted with screeched. “What a beautiful couple you two make.”

My mouth snapped shut and then opened again. Not having my sight back completely, I kept blinking until a bright red mane started coming into focus. Charo.

“Oh, your babies are going to be the cutest things ever.”

I cursed under my breath and smiled tightly while Aaron seemed surprisingly unconcerned. The dumbest mental image took me by surprise. One of Aaron holding a chubby, blue-eyed baby in his large arms.

Stepping out of my cousin’s trajectory and veering for the wine, I tried to recompose myself.

“And so it begins,” I muttered under my breath. The day I had feared and dreaded for months.

Only, in that precise moment, with Aaron’s arm under my fingers and his smile aimed at me, I came to realize that what frightened me was nothing I had ever come to expect.

If I’d known that my sister had hired a kiss cam for the wedding reception, I would have claimed to be sick and hidden in the bathroom. Ironically, I wouldn’t have had to lie all that much. My dinner kept climbing up my throat every single time the tune announcing the start of the most painful thirty seconds of my life reached my ears. During that time that stretched into a hellish eternity, the camera scanned the crowd seated on the round tables scattered across the lush green garden of the restaurant before coming to a stop on a couple and displaying their image—framed by a heart—on a conveniently installed projector.

Every single time the camera so much as passed over my fake date and me, my heart ceased beating before resuming at breakneck speed.

Apparently, the possibility of having my first kiss with Aaron displayed on a big screen in front of my whole family was going to give me a heart attack.

And just as if my thoughts had somehow conjured it, the tritone tune announced the start of a new round of: Will Lina die of nerves and anticipation tonight? Or will she lose her shit and commit camera murder?

“Oh, what a fun idea this was, Isabel!” my mom hollered with excitement from across the table.

My sister seemed to pride herself even more, if that was possible. “I know.” She smiled giddily. “They’ll even put all the film together, edit it, and send me a montage with all the kisses,” she explained over the relentless tune of doom.

One eye on the projector screen, I watched the camera hover on a table close by.

“I had to book an extra package for that, but it’s totally worth it.”

The camera swiped over our table, displaying Aaron’s and my faces on the screen.

My face blanched. My hand somehow jerked, dropping a fork. I dipped after it, too briskly, and almost knocked over a glass. Cursing under my breath, I picked up the fork from under the table, resurfacing just in time to see the camera moving along.

Close. That was so close.

Reaching for my wine, I actually considered sneaking out and putting an end to this. But that would be running. Being a coward. Again. Something I’d kept doing a lot of lately.

If the camera stops on you, you will kiss Aaron, I told myself as I downed the rest of my wine. A peck on the lips. It doesn’t need to be a movie kiss. Just a kiss.

But my pep talk didn’t help. It only made my chest tighter and my belly flutter.

Peeking at the man that I’d probably have to kiss in a handful of seconds, I was surprised to see a muscle in his jaw jumping. Studying him more closely, I realized Aaron looked … like New York Aaron again. Not like the relaxed and playful version I had shared these past days with. His gaze was set on the screen, and while his face gave nothing away—at least not to those who hadn’t mastered the art of reading Aaron like I had—there was something about him that told me he wasn’t as fine as he looked.

Once more, the camera glided over us, putting our faces on the screen for a tense second, and moved on.

My heart resumed.

Before I could feel any kind of relief, it came right back, as if it were performing a dance especially choreographed for me, teasing my heartbeat until sending it into cardiac arrest. Little droplets of sweat formed on the nape of my neck. Aaron remained quiet by my side, steadfast, his eyes drilled into the screen. So much that concern started seeping in.

“Whoo!” the crowd hooted as the camera cruised across our table again, the speed decreasing gradually.

Looking at Aaron, it was hard to notice much else besides him. I was barely aware of how the integrants of our table had come alive, clapping and whistling to the tune of the goddamn kiss cam. My eyes zeroed on Aaron’s lips, pressed in a flat line. Anxiety and anticipation—yes, powerful and silky anticipation—built in the pit of my belly. My gaze took in his whole body, stoically sitting by my side. Amid the chaos around us, I still managed to catch the movement of his knee. It was bouncing. The motion barely lasted more than a couple of seconds. But I had seen it.

My gaze leaped back to his profile.

Is Aaron … nervous? About kissing me?

It can’t be.

Not after the way he had almost done that right after teasing and plummeting me to a point where I would have begged for his lips.

Unaware of my eyes on him, his knee resumed the bounce, the muscle on his jaw twitching again in sync.

Oh my God, he is.

Aaron was nervous. He was all jittery and high-strung, and it was because of me. Because chances were, he’d have to kiss me. Me.

Something took flight right between my ribs. I couldn’t believe how a man so confident, so composed—one who had made my body come alive and sing with nothing more than the softest of touches—could be fussing over having to kiss me. The flutter in my chest stirred, making me itch to reach—

A loud cheer exploded around us, taking my attention off Aaron.

People chanted, “Que se besen! Que se besen!” Kiss! Kiss!

My eyes leaped around desperately, my heart rising to my mouth. Everybody was looking in our direction.

I’ll do it. I’ll kiss him.

As I zeroed in on the screen, something lurched to the pit of my stomach in response to what I saw.

My dad reached for my mom’s face and planted a kiss on her lips.

It wasn’t relief. What had pierced my body was disappointment. Baffling, inexplicable disappointment at me not being the one framed by the silly string of hearts. Because my parents had been targeted by the kiss cam. Not us.

I felt Aaron move beside me. Turning in his direction, my gaze hopelessly fastened to his lips again. His mouth. That speck of disappointment grew, obliterating everything else and turning into something thick and heavy that promised a rich taste on my tongue. One that made my heart speed up.

Want, I realized. What I felt was need. I wanted him, needed him to gather me in his arms and kiss me like he had promised.

“Because when I finally take those lips in mine, it will be the furthest thing from pretending.”

That was what he had said. And wasn’t what I was feeling inside—what threatened to spill out and turn my life around—the furthest thing from a lie? From pretending?

It was. Consequences be damned, but it was.

I was long past this deception scheme. And the ball of emotions that came with that realization collapsed down my chest, crumbling along the rest of my body and taking everything in its way with it. Real—what I was feeling had to be real.

“When I finally kiss you, there won’t be any doubt in your mind that it is real.”

I wanted it to be real. Real, real, real.

Aaron must have felt the shift in me—naturally, as he was the one person on earth who seemed to read me like he owned the only copy to The Handbook of Lina. His gaze sharpened, roaming across my face as I watched in awe how his lips parted.

It was in that precise moment that I felt like something had finally clicked into place, unhinging everything I had been keeping on a short leash.

I couldn’t know how or why. Didn’t even have the slightest idea. And wasn’t that part of the mystery of life? Part of what made it breathtakingly exciting? Unexpectedly beautiful? We couldn’t control and tame emotions to our convenience.

And what I felt for Aaron had turned into a wild beast that I mercilessly fell prey to.

That was exactly why when Aaron quietly reached for my hand, took it in his, and stood up, I followed. Every single thing that had stopped me in these past few days was obliterated in the chaos that had built around us. We had to cross the space, sidestepping people who now danced animatedly, eluding relatives with red cheeks and ruffled hair who lunged in our direction, ignoring the music filling the outdoorsy space that called everybody to the improvised dance floor. But what did I care? Nothing mattered, except following this man wherever he took me.

Like a glass, I had been filling up, droplet after droplet. Slowly packing all these things he had given me—the softest, most provoking touches; precious smiles that were just for me; his strength; his faith in me—to the brim and heaping with everything I had been feeling. I found myself on the verge of being toppled down. Of helplessly spilling and revealing everything I had worked so hard on bottling up.

We were somewhere outside still, perhaps on one of the sides of the patio of the restaurant. The music from the party reached my ears, muffled by the distance, and the only light illuminating this section of the garden came from a lonely lamp perched on the far edge of the building, leaving us almost in the dark.

Aaron came to a stop, finally turning around and facing me. His jaw was clenched again, the rest of his features screwed securely together so they gave nothing away.

But I knew. I knew.

My feet shuffled on the gravel beneath them, telling me this couldn’t be a frequented path for guests if my heels didn’t seem to stand still for more than a few seconds.

Or perhaps it was just me and the way my body shook, what stopped me from remaining upright.

Aaron took a step forward, his body angling toward mine. Deliciously crowding me and forcing my back to come against the coarse surface of the wall.

“Hi,” I croaked, as if we were just seeing each other after a long time. And, God, why did it feel so much like we were? Like I was finally here. Finally coming home.

I watched Aaron’s throat work, and then he took a deep breath through his nose. “Hey.” His palm came to rest on my jaw, cupping my face. “Ask me what I’m thinking.”

My heart raced with the prospect of doing so as I anticipated his answer with a trepidation I had never known. But it was better than him asking me to speak what was in mine.

“What are you thinking, Aaron?”

A hum rose in his throat, the sound deep and husky. It shot straight to my chest. “I’m thinking that you want me to kiss you.”

My blood swirled at his words, turning thicker. I do. I do.

“And I’m also thinking that if I don’t do it soon, I might lose my goddamn mind.”

The palm that was cupping my face fell, and a finger trailed down the skin of my arm.

I didn’t speak. I didn’t think I could.

His gaze traveled down my throat, leaving a path of shivers on my skin. “But I was serious when I said that when I finally took your lips, you’d know what it meant.”

He stepped closer, the tips of his shoes grazing mine, our bodies almost touching. I braced my hands on his arms, not trusting myself anymore, seeing as how I shook. How I trembled.

“Do you know now, Catalina?” His nose brushed my temple, making my breath hitch. “Do you know what this means?”

Aaron’s lips flicked along my cheekbone, making my back arch, my shoulders coming flush against the wall behind me. My lips parted, my answer stuck somewhere in my throat.

He released a shaky breath, his body tight with restraint. “Answer me, please.”

Aaron’s forehead came to rest against mine, and I watched his eyelashes hide that ocean I’d gladly drown in if he let me. Eyes closed, he inched closer, his lips almost coming against mine.

“Put me out of my misery, Catalina,” he gritted out, cupping the back of my head with trembling fingers.

My heart—my poor heart—lost it at the desperation in his voice. At the unfiltered need I heard.

“Real,” I finally breathed into his mouth. “This is real,” I repeated, needing to hear the words, feel the truth on my skin. “Kiss me, Aaron,” I told him breathlessly. “Prove to me that it is.”

A growl—a deliriously low growl—left Aaron’s mouth. And before I could even process how the sound had seeped deep, deep inside of me, right into the marrow of my bones, Aaron’s lips were on mine.

He kissed me—Aaron was kissing me—as if he had been starving for an eternity. Just like a beast meant to devour me. His hard body coming against mine, desperately seeking anything I’d give him.

Our lips opened, ravaging each other’s mouths, while his large palms roamed down my sides. Down, down, down they went, stopping below my waist. My hands flew to his chest, and I relished how hard it felt, how warm, how perfectly solid and just for me.

My heart drummed against the walls of my own chest, and a sound climbed up my throat when I felt Aaron’s heart do the same against my fingertips.

The noise only fueled Aaron to press into me with his hips. To reward me with a wild sound of his own. His hands gripped my waist, bringing me even closer to him, making me feel the heat of his hardness on my belly and punching another moan out of me.

Aaron, Aaron, Aaron, my mind seemed to chant as my body went on sensory overload.

His hands roamed over the fabric of my dress, coming around me, dragging down my back, all while his tongue danced against mine.

Another press of his hips against mine made my body spin out of control and sent more and more heat to pool between my thighs.

Aaron’s lips left mine, revealing he was breathing as violently as I was. Without wasting a moment, his mouth landed on the soft spot between my jaw and neck. Looking up at the dark sky, I bared my throat for him. Another whimper left me, carried away by the breeze coming from the sea.

“That sound,” Aaron breathed into my skin. “That sound is driving me goddamn insane.”

Insanity—that was what this was. What was pumping in my veins.

He kissed a path up my throat, veering for my ear, leaving little nips that left my blood roaring. Thundering across my body.

My hands toured up his wide chest, reaching the nape of his neck. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at it softly when he nibbled at the skin below my earlobe. When he grazed his teeth over it, I pulled a little harder.

“Hold on to me, baby.” In a swift move, Aaron picked me up from the floor, my legs going around him and my arms wrapping tighter around his neck.

Somewhere in the back of my head, I worried about the fabric of the dress, about it not being airy or thin enough so it’d let me feel him. Aaron. All of him.

Every doubt fled my mind as he pushed against me once more. My back came harder against the wall, and I could feel his length nestled between my legs.

Hot—he was so hot and hard.

“That’s not enough. More,” I implored. I wanted more, more, more. I’d shred the dress to pieces if I had to.

As he rocked his hips in one firm motion that made me see the stars, his lips found mine again, muffling another of my moans.

“You are killing me, Catalina,” he said against my lips.

My hold on his neck tightened, trying to bring him even closer. More.

“I know,” he gritted out, and with another motion of his hips, he positioned himself right against my crease, almost tipping me over the edge. Aaron pressed himself against me, the heat of his hardness furiously seeping through the layers of clothing between us.

“More,” I begged again. I wasn’t ashamed. I’d do it again. And again and again.

“So demanding.” A husky chuckle caressed my lips. “If I snuck my hand under your dress,” Aaron rasped against my mouth, rocking against me and throbbing between my legs, “how wet would I find you, baby?”

He wouldn’t believe just how much. I didn’t think I’d ever been this turned on, this aroused, this recklessly desperate for more.

Aaron grazed my lips with his, the touch barely enough to appease me. “I’m not going to do that.” His voice was husky, bathed in the need I felt washing over my body. “Not now.”

“Why?” I breathed out.

“Because I wouldn’t be able to help myself,” he growled in my ear. He rocked his hips against me once more, pressing me harder against the coarse surface behind my back. “And the first time I’m inside of you, it’s not going to be a quick fuck against a wall.”

I whimpered at his words. At the loss of not having what he had just painted so clearly in my head. I’d give anything to have him bury himself deep inside me. Perhaps that way, I wouldn’t feel this void in the center of my chest.

His forehead came to rest on top of mine again. Every motion came to a painful stop. “I’d die a happy man if I could make you come right here and now,” Aaron whispered, making me shiver. “But anyone could walk by and see us, and that’s a privilege I want for just myself.”

Sighing, I trailed my fingers through his hair and then around his neck until coming to cup his jaw. Slowly, I came to my senses. “You are right.”

My lips puckered, pouting.

Blue eyes that shone like they had never done before crinkled with a smile. “Look at that,” he said before kissing me firmly. Way too briefly for me to be anywhere satisfied. “I will get foolish, crazy ideas if you start agreeing with me so easily.”

That got my pout to fall just a smidgen, and perhaps a small smile peeked out. And just as I was considering puckering my lips again, remembering how hot and bothered I still was, his head dipped again, and he kissed the remainder of that pout off my face.

“Let’s go. Your family is probably wondering where we are.” He slowly dropped me to the floor. Then, he brushed his fingers over a few strands of hair that had come out of place, the back of his hand grazing my cheek before he stepped back. “Perfect,” he said, looking me up and down.

And the word traveled straight to the middle of my chest.

He offered his hand, and I took it before it hovered in the air for a complete second. I was a needy woman, it seemed. And when it came to Aaron, I’d take from him as much as he was willing to give me. And then perhaps I’d beg for more.