Chapter 31

The extended Reyes clan— along with some friends that were close enough to count as family — took over the resort’s private dining room. Three long tables of ten arranged around a tiny dance floor. Thirty people all talking too loudly and laughing too much.

And then there was Natalia. Seated next to her at the table with her parents and uncles, Sam was sure that Natalia was both tipsy and as comfortable as when getting an invasive body wax.

It was obvious that something had rattled her when she’d been alone, but Sam couldn’t figure out what. Maybe it was a work thing, but that didn’t ring true.

Arm resting over the back of Natalia’s chair, Sam leaned in close. “Food okay?”

Natalia, makeup impeccable, and white dress agonizingly sexy, looked at her through a polite mask. It was the kind of expression she’d worn when they first met. Silicone and missing the usual fire beneath the surface.

“Yes,” Natalia replied, offering nothing.

Sam tipped her head forward and accepted the lie. She hadn’t considered that Natalia would have a bad time with her family. In fifty years, she hadn’t met anyone who didn’t like them.

They were warm and welcoming, but maybe overwhelming in number. Sam didn’t know how long ago Natalia’s parents had passed, but maybe it had been a long time since she’d been around a big family. Sam was so used to it, she couldn’t tell if it was too much.

“Natalia, another vodka soda? Double lime?” Tito asked in Spanish while getting up, finger pointed to Natalia’s empty glass.

With the tip of her head, Natalia accepted. Until then, Sam wasn’t even sure Natalia spoke Spanish. Apart from what she’d told her at the diaspora museum, Natalia didn’t discuss her heritage. She didn’t reveal much at all, but Sam hoped the trip might change that. Instead, it seemed to be making her more reserved.

“Sam, you want another?” Tito asked.

“I’m good Tio, thanks.”

“Oh, come on.” Tito clicked his tongue, his entire cranium a bright red Christmas bulb. “How about some shots?” He wiggled his prematurely white brows. “The night is so young!”

After being browbeaten into two shots of smooth but potent tequila, Sam was tipsy herself when a server wheeled out her parents’ anniversary cake.

When the white and gold three-tier cake was situated in the middle of the dance floor, Sam stood. She raised her champagne flute, but the conversations didn’t quiet down until her cousin Leo gave an earsplitting whistle with both pinkies pressed to his lips.

A cacophony of complaints went up at the sound until the crowd noticed Sam standing. Reaching for their own glasses, her family was as quiet as they were likely to get. Sam took her moment.

“I’d like to make a toast to my parents. Fifty-three years of marriage — can you believe it?” Sam smiled around the room.

“Lucky dog!” One of her dad’s brothers shouted, earning a smattering of chuckles and one judgmental glare from her Tia Angela.

“Mami, Papi,” Sam cleared her throat, booze making her unexpectedly sentimental. “Your love and commitment to each other has always been an inspiration. From little things like Papi bringing you cafecito in bed every morning, to supporting each other through life’s ups and downs. You’re a team.”

Sam’s voice grew thick with emotion. “With so much bad news and noise in the world, your marriage reminds me to have faith that true partnership endures. That compromise and forgiveness help weather the storms.”

She turned to her parents, misty-eyed. “You two give me hope that a forever kind of love exists. Not because it’s all sunshine and rainbows. But because you stick it out together, even when it’s hard.”

Raising her glass higher, Sam continued. “No matter what changes life brings, your roots grow deeper. And your branches continue spreading warmth, shelter, and joy.”

She smiled while wiping a tear before it could fully form. “You’re the sturdiest, most beautiful tree. My safe place to land. My guiding light in the dark.”

When Sam’s voice broke, her father reached for his handkerchief to dry his own eyes. Even Tio Tito wiped his face when he thought no one was looking.

“Thank you for teaching me the strength of unconditional love. For showing me that the right person makes home wherever you are together.”

Sam lifted her glass higher. “To fifty-three years and counting. You inspire me every day. I love you both so much. Happy anniversary.”

“Now let’s dance!” Tio Tito shouted, and the room erupted with music and the sound of a dozen chairs scraping the floor.

“The cake!” someone yelled, before the confection was pushed out of the way and saved from the stampede.

Sam dropped into her seat while draining the small serving of bubbly. She looked over at Natalia, her eyes glossy but expression still unreadable.

“Did that sound as corny out loud as it did in my head?” Sam cringed, hands in her lap as she leaned back in her seat.

Natalia hesitated before offering a tiny head shake. “It was lovely,” she replied in a voice low and soft and unusual.

Lured in by Natalia’s parted lips, by her gentle breaths, Sam drifted closer. She ached to know what thoughts were behind those dark, fathomless eyes as they searched her own. What was hanging in the shrinking space between them. It was so loaded with something Sam just couldn’t decipher.

The noise and chaos of the party faded around them. For a suspended moment, all Sam sensed was Natalia - her subtle floral scent, the heat of her skin so close. She leaned in, tempted to close the gap between them.

Before she could act, her father appeared at Natalia’s side. “May I have this dance, mija?” He extended a hand, eyes twinkling.

Natalia hesitated, looking unsure. For a moment, Sam thought she might decline the invitation. But then Natalia’s eyes flicked to Sam’s father, his hand still extended patiently. She must have sensed his simple, earnest hopefulness.

Sam held her breath, worried Natalia’s rejection might hurt her father’s feelings. He was an unrepentant romantic at heart, always thrilled to spin a lovely lady around the dance floor.

After a pause that felt endless, Natalia dipped her chin gracefully. “I’d be delighted,” she said, placing her elegant hand in his meaty one.

Relief rushed through Sam as Natalia allowed herself to be led toward the crowd. Sam laughed, body flooded with adrenaline and more than a sprinkling of serotonin.

She watched Natalia and her dad at the edge of the mob dancing to Marc Anthony’s high-energy salsa staple, Vivir Mi Vida. Sam’s lungs burned when she starved them of oxygen, her muscles tensed with anticipation like they might snap.

And then Natalia draped one hand over her dad’s shoulder and slipped the other into his waiting hand. As soon as Natalia swung her hip out and stepped forward with practiced grace, Sam’s stomach fluttered.

It took six beats. Six expert moves for it to become painfully obvious that Natalia was an amazing dancer. She might have guessed by the way she moved in bed, but she was woefully unprepared for the sight of her dancing salsa like she’d won competitions. Was there anything she didn’t excel at?

“Well, we can’t let them have all the fun,” Sam’s mother said, brown eyes glinting while she gestured toward the dance floor.

Sam went through the motions of dancing with her mother, though her eyes strayed constantly to Natalia spinning in her father’s arms, her mesmerizing footwork on beat with the music.

She was surprised Natalia agreed to dance with him, but was grateful she’d been gracious enough to accept. Sam had no words for what she felt upon realizing that Natalia was doing all the work to make her dad look like a much better dancer than he was.

When Marc Anthony handed the reins over to La India, Sam’s Uncle Mandy asked her for a dance — agreeing to give Sam the lead. She accepted, trying to make the smile on her face seem genuine. She wanted to get to Natalia, who was now occupying the very center of the floor with her cousin Leo.

Without missing a beat, Natalia moved fluidly with the rhythm, her hips swaying hypnotically. Sam’s mouth went dry, watching her complicated turns, skin glistening with a fine sheen.

Her attention strayed constantly to Natalia, her poise and elegance intoxicating as she danced with Leo and then Ty. When the music changed again to an old song called Candela — apt when Sam felt like her body was alive with liquid fire — she dropped her politeness.

Unable to take it anymore, Sam cut in and pulled Natalia into her own arms. Natalia yielded after a brief hesitation, her tentative fingers coming to rest on Sam’s neck and taking her hand with conviction.

Despite having been led by her other dance partners, Natalia took a decisive step backward, signaling that she would take the lead. Sam laughed, wiped sweat from her own forehead, and let Natalia take charge.

Natalia pushed Sam away, showing off with impressive flair, before pulling her back in to a spin. As they swayed together, bodies pressed tightly, Sam was hyperaware of everywhere they connected. Natalia’s hips rolled and dipped against hers, igniting sparks across Sam’s hypersensitive skin.

She smoothed her hands over the damp material covering Natalia’s back, feeling the shift of muscle beneath. Having her this close made Sam’s head spin and heart race out of control.

Natalia’s touch was electric, little currents of desire jolting through Sam everywhere their bodies met. When Natalia’s thighs brushed hers, Sam had to remember that they weren’t alone.

As they moved in unison, Sam was consumed with the feel of Natalia under her hands. The brush of her breath, the flutter of pulse under silken skin. She wanted to gather Natalia even closer. Wanted to breathe her in. To drink her. And taste her. Until she was drunk.

Their joined bodies were a live wire, dangerous and sweltering. Sam struggled to temper the flame, but some primal part of her longed to consume them both in a reckless inferno.

Breathless, dizzy with need, Sam tightened her grip on Natalia’s hips. She met Natalia’s dark, simmering gaze and saw her own hunger reflected there. Natalia’s lips parted, and Sam nearly gave in to the magnetic urge to capture them with her own.

She resisted, though her restraint hung by the thinnest thread. She clung to Natalia, pulse thundering in her ears.

The music and crowd faded away until it was just the two of them, lost in each other, when the song turned to a slow ballad.

Sam ran her hands down Natalia’s back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. “You’re an amazing dancer,” she murmured.

“You’re not terrible.” Natalia’s lips grazed her ear, setting Sam aflame.

“I don’t want to wait for cake,” Sam confessed.

“Then don’t.”