River

I thought I was done with women for a while until I saw an Angel. I was less than enthusiastic about prancing around for forty-five minutes in a ballet studio. I followed my teammates into room 112, and right away, my eyes were drawn to the perfect ass of a professional dancer.

Her leotard had an open back, exposing her flawless latte skin all the way to the top curve of that perky ass, and her long, silky black hair was scooped into a messy knot at the base of her neck. The sight of her made my cock twitch and the tips of my fingers tingle. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything like that when looking at a woman, and that was only the beginning. She hadn’t even turned around yet.

When she did turn, she moved like silk, flowing across the floor, and I thought of what coach said about learning to be graceful. If anyone is going to teach these knuckleheads about grace, it would be her.

Her beauty is unconventional, her physique unlike most dancers. She isn’t the tall, willowy kind of ballet instructor I had imagined—far from it. Muscular and toned in all the right places, she looks more like a runner than a dancer, and she’s shorter than the professional dancers I’ve seen at the ballet, and yes, I’ve been to the ballet. I had a girlfriend who was obsessed with becoming a dancer. Unfortunately, she had two left feet, straying eyes, and only a couple of functioning brain cells in her pretty head. She didn’t last long. None of them do.

When I’m interested in something, I study it, and I am very interested in Angel. Our eyes met the second she addressed the class, but only for a moment. I saw a flicker of interest, but she stayed focused on the class. I like that. No special treatment, no fawning over the players like a lovesick puppy. She was a true professional from start to finish.

And the sass and confidence she exhibited were a total turn on. She handled a room full of back-talking, sexual innuendo-slinging NFA players like nobody’s business.

I wanted to ask her to dinner . . . or coffee, or even the end of the hall to the vending machine for a bottle of water—anywhere—but I didn’t. She was skittish, but I know she felt something when we shook hands. There was a spark that passed between us, but her quick escape when I mentioned loving kids was guarded, a lot like me.

I need to get to my brother’s house. I promised I would be there for dinner tonight, but the dance thing pushed our off-season workouts back two hours, and I’m running behind.

When I turn onto Noah’s street, it occurs to me that I could have asked Angel to dinner here tonight, with my family. It would have been a risky first date, meeting the family and all, but after watching her with the guys today, I think she would have handled it fine.

In the driveway, I squeeze my car in behind my dad’s Tahoe. I hate parking next to other cars, but these cars all belong to my family, and they are respectful of other people’s belongings, unlike the rest of the world.

My head hasn’t even cleared the door, and three beautiful eleven-year-old girls are pulling at my arms and hugging me like I just came home from war. The Sparks are in the off-season, though, and my nieces know this is when to get their loving in.

“Uncle River, I missed you so much. Did you know Marta is coming tonight? And Grandma and Grandpa and—”

“Whoa, little lady,” I say, picking her up and swinging her around like a rag doll. Salina squeals, and her sisters laugh as I take turns spinning them around in the front yard.

“So everybody’s here tonight, huh?” I say when we walk into the house, all of us out of breath from laughing.

“Yes, that’s what I was trying to tell you,” Salina says, dramatically dragging out the word, trying, with an eye roll. Pre-teen girls are nothing if not dramatic.

“So what’s the big deal?” I ask.

Marisol steps in to answer, “Uncle David is here.”

Ah, okay, that explains the hurried greeting and dramatic tone. Uncle David has been having marital trouble for the past year, and he’s been keeping his distance. I wonder what’s gotten him to a family dinner all of a sudden.

“Well that’s cool. Are Aunt Misty and the kids here too?” David has a five-year-old son and a seven-year-old daughter, and we’ve been missing them a lot over the past year. I wasn’t lying when I told Angel I love kids. I’m crazy about them. I spend as much time in the off-season with my seventeen nieces and nephews as possible. Last year, I somehow orchestrated a trip for all of us to Disney World. It wasn’t easy, but we got it done, and I was in heaven the entire time.

“No, he brought his girlfriend,” Alicia whispers just before we enter my brother, Noah, and his wife, Maria’s, living room.

Girlfriend? That motherfucker left his wife and kids? And he dares to bring a girlfriend to our family dinner after skipping out on us for the past twelve months?

Every family has a black sheep, and David is ours. Always into trouble as a teenager, he didn’t get good grades and never earned any scholarships to help him get into college. We weren’t surprised when he disappeared for a couple of years after he miraculously graduated high school. He had always talked about being in a band, so we figured he was following his dream.

Then one day, he turned up with his pregnant wife, Misty, and he seemed to finally have his shit together. We were all skeptical at first, but when they had Conner and then two years later, Carmon, and bought a house, we wiped the sweat from our proverbial brows and figured he had settled down.

“Hola, mi hermano,” Maria says, taking my face and pulling me down so she can kiss me on both cheeks. My brother met Maria on a trip to Spain when he was studying abroad in college. She’s a gorgeous woman, and he’s a smart man for keeping in contact with her until he finished law school. He brought her to California for a vacation, and she never left. They have been married thirteen years, and aside from my parents, they are the best role models for a great marriage that I could have.

“Hola, Maria.” I return her kisses with my eyes on David and his guest, who are standing on the patio, looking out at the ocean.

“What the hell is that?” I say and jut my chin toward the patio.

“Oh, River, please don’t kill him before dinner. I worked all day cooking, and I can’t stand to waste food.” Maria places her warm brown hand on my chest over my heart, and I snort at her attempt at a joke.

“Where’s Misty? Where are the kids?” I ask.

“He says she left him and took them with her. He doesn’t know where any of them are.”

“When?”

“Three months ago.”

“And he never bothered to tell us what was going on? Looks like he bounced back pretty easily.”

“I know, but he isn’t being a dick, and she seems to be . . .”

“Seems to be what?” I ask.

“I think Noah calls it skanky. Yes, that’s right. She’s not skanky.”

Maria speaks fluent English, but slang still stumps her at times. The girls scattered as soon as we entered the room, anticipating an argument between David and me. Even eleven-year-old girls know it’s stupid to do what David is doing.

“I will take the high road tonight, just for you, Maria, because I love you and don’t want you to waste food,” I say, smiling down at my petite five foot two sister-in-law.

“Ah, gracias, River. You’re a good boy. Why don’t you bring a nice girl home for dinner sometime? You’re so handsome and kind. Are there no more good girls left for you?”

“Someday, Maria. I’ll find a good girl someday, I promise.”

She smiles, making the tiny crow’s feet around her almond eyes more pronounced. Maria just gets more beautiful with age. I love her as much as my sisters, and I plan on keeping the promise I just made to her. I think I’ve already found a good girl to bring home to dinner. I just have to figure out how to ask her without scaring her.