Ouch! He’d deserved that.

Man, his Hettie could pack a wallop of a punch, even with her words. Always could.

But as he spun her around and around on the floor, ground his pelvis against hers, made her ride his leg, he couldn’t deny their chemistry. They’d always had it. Since the moment she’d rolled her eyes at him when he asked her whether staff had to pay for fountain soda or if it was free, he’d been smitten. And from there it only got better. Their banter and conversations were what made him get up every morning excited to go to work after school. Seeing Hettie, talking with Hettie, impressing Hettie consumed his every waking thought.

And yet he’d still ended up breaking her heart.

He pulled her into him again against his knee. The skirt of her dress rose up, and he could feel the heat of her against his leg. His cock jerked inside his pants, and just to show her what she did to him, he pulled her tight against him.

Her eyes went wide, those big, beautiful, brown doll eyes he loved. He especially loved it when she was on her knees in front of him, his cock in her mouth, his hands in her hair as she took him to the back of her throat, watching him all doe-eyed and innocent, even though she was anything but. No, he’d taken her innocence, or rather she’d given it to him willingly one cold night in January after they’d gone out to a movie and then back to his place. His mother had been at work on a night shift, and they had the house to themselves. It’d hurt her, she hadn’t gotten off, and she’d cried a bit from the pain, but then he’d ducked his head between her legs and made her forget all about the discomfort. They’d tried again the next day, and things had been better. By Valentine’s Day, she was an orgasming machine, and he liked to consider himself a savant in the ways of female pleasure.

He snorted at the memory of his cocky teenage bravado. Thank God Heather had thought he was a beast in the sack, because as it turned out, he’d still had a lot to learn.

“What the fuck was that for?” she asked him, twirling out again.

“What?”

“The snort. You think this is funny? Getting shanghaied into dancing together in front of my friends and family, all to appease my dead father?”

His face sobered. “No. Well … maybe a little.” But he didn’t miss the rosy glow to her cheeks or the smile on her face as he spun her out. She dropped the smile when forced to face him again. But deny it all she wanted, she’d missed this. He’d missed this. “It’s more of a turn-on than anything, don’t you think? Stirring up memories. Your body, in that dress, those curves, that hair flipping around. Your cheeks are pink, your eyes are bright, you look just like you used to after we’d—”

“Don’t!” she snapped. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

A big grin stretched across his face. “I’m just saying…”

“You’re just saying nothing.” Her breathing was labored. She definitely sounded like she was having sex now. Gavin’s cock surged to life in his pants.

The song was coming to an end, and Gavin’s heart rate picked up. He needed to get her alone, needed to talk to her, needed to apologize the way he should have years ago. Spinning her into his chest one more time, he looped his arm around her back and dipped her low. Like a pro, she arched deep over his arm, letting her head fall back, exposing that sexy-as-fuck neck. Ten years ago, he wouldn’t have thought twice about kissing it. Hell, he’d have probably licked and nipped it too, crowd be damned. But instead all he could do was stare. Watch as it bobbed with her swallow and the vein along the side beat in time to his own heart.

Once again, clapping filled the restaurant when the song finally ended. Followed by hoots and hollers, whoops and catcalls. Even a few whistles.

Rosemary rushed forward and hugged them both, tears in her eyes and slipping down her cheeks. “Thank you, both. That was beautiful. Your father would be so proud.” She glanced up at the ceiling, then quickly crossed herself. “He is so proud.” She hiccupped, and fresh tears sprung from her eyes. Heather lunged forward to envelop her mother in another hug. Soon the music picked up again, and the dance floor filled with people. Heather and Rosemary moved over to the side of the room, still hugging, their bodies trembling as they both silently cried over the incredible man they’d lost.

Gavin knew he needed to give Hettie time. Time to celebrate her father properly, grieve with her mother. Then they’d talk. They needed to talk.

Always keeping her in sight, he wandered back over to the buffet table. There was one lonely beef empanada left on the plate and he swooped in, devouring it in four bites, groaning as he chewed.

“You always did love his empanadas,” came a familiar female voice.

Gavin spun around, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I haven’t been able to find anyone who does them better, let alone come close.”

Rosemary smiled, her eyes red and puffy from crying. “I know why you’re here.”

Gavin’s eyes went wide. “Why am I here?”

She gave him a smug but sad smile. “I’m grieving, not stupid. Just know, if you break her heart again, I’ll come after you and kill you myself, that is if Eddie’s ghost doesn’t get to you first.”

Gavin wanted to throw his head back and laugh, but he knew better. Rosemary had always been feisty. That’s where Hettie got her spunk. Not afraid to call a spade a spade or simply pick up a spade to bonk you over the head if needed.

Instead, he simply nodded. “I know. And I promise, I won’t this time. If any hearts are going to be broken, it’ll be mine.”

That answer seemed to satisfy her, and she wiped beneath her eyes with a crumpled tissue from her pocket. “Good.” She reached up, and he bent down for a hug. She was fragile and tiny in his arms, but she smelled like the home he remembered, even if it’d only been his home for a short time. Cumin and garlic with just the faintest hint of Rosemary’s favorite lavender shampoo. He’d only lived with the Alvarezes for a few months, after his mother had died in a car accident shortly after Christmas before he graduated high school. Hettie’s family had taken him in when he had nowhere to go. But they’d quickly become his family. Eddie had been like a father to him pretty much from day one, giving him a job and a chance to be a better person, while Rosemary clucked around him like a mother hen the moment he mentioned his mother worked nights. He’d never eaten dinner alone again. Thank God, Hettie had never been like a sister, though.

“I’ve missed you,” Rosemary said into his shoulder.

Well if that didn’t hit him in the solar plexus. Yeah, he’d missed them all, too. He’d been an asshole not coming back for all these years. And he hated himself that it took him ten years and the funeral of a man who’d been like a father to him to get his ass back.

But now that he was back, he was going to make the most of it. He was going to make things right.

Rosemary dried her eyes again when they separated, then with a final squeeze to his arm, she wandered off to go and speak with some of the staff.

As bopping as the dance floor was, with bodies swinging and twirling, spinning and dipping, the restaurant was also clearing out. What had been over one hundred people during the minister’s sermon was now roughly a third of that. Only the diehard partiers and close friends of Eddie remained. Some of them Gavin recognized, regulars who had been coming in to the restaurant since he bused tables, while other faces were new. He scanned the crowd, looking for the only face that mattered.

He spotted Hettie over by the door, where she was getting her coat. Shit!

Snatching his jacket off the chair, he set off into a steady lope toward the door, determined not to let her leave without hearing him out. Her hand was on the door handle by the time he got to her.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Fear gripped him, and his pulse thudded in his ears.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m tired, Gavin. I was up all night setting this place up, then I had to work this afternoon. Tax season doesn’t stop for bereavement. My mother said I could leave. I offered to stay; she shooed me away. I’m going home to bed.”

That last word made his eyelids drop to half-mast and his cock spring up to a half-chub.

His hands enclosed around her fingers on the door handle. “We need to talk first. Please? I’m staying at the Windward Pacific Hotel. You can come there if you’d like.”

Her eyes flared for a moment in surprise. Yes, he knew it was the most expensive hotel in the city, but after what he had to tell her, she’d understand why he was now in a position to stay at such a place.

“I’ll go anywhere you say, Hettie.”

As long as it’s not to hell.

“I just really want, no, need to talk to you.”

Exhaustion escaped her on a long, loud sigh. “Follow me home. We can talk there. I need to get out of this dress and these shoes.”

She didn’t wait for his answer, didn’t even wait for a nod. Weary-eyed, with slumped shoulders, she pushed past him and opened the door. The sun was setting, and the way its rays caught the red highlights in her dark hair made his balls tighten. She was beautiful. A Latina angel in the heart of Seattle. The sway of her hips and the long lines of her legs as she headed to her car hypnotized him, and before he knew it, he was slipping the key of his rental into the ignition and following the love of his life back to her home, where she was going to either give him a second chance or stomp all over his heart. He hoped for the former but deserved the latter.