Dancing in a Hurricane (12 page)

He headed to his room to shower. He needed to run to the east warehouse and talk to the manager.

***

The next night, a knock sounded on the garage door and Sixto called from the kitchen, "Come in." He finished tucking his tan polo shirt into his jeans.

Élian and Rico walked in. "¿
Qué bola asere
?"

Sixto answered, "
Nada
. ¿
Qué bola
?"

Rico put his hand out in a fist. "¿
Qué pasa socio
?"

Sixto tapped it with his. "You guys want a beer?"

"No, man, let's go!" Élian gestured toward the door. "
Vamos
!"

Rico shoved his shoulder. "It's not even ten yet, I don't want to be the first one there."

"We can get seats at the bar," Élian said. "The
chicas
like guys on barstools."

Rico laughed. "New strategy for getting booty?"

"He needs all the help he can get." Sixto handed them each a beer.

Élian gave them both the finger. "You fucks haven't been any luckier lately."

Sixto smiled and nodded. "He's right, Rico. Might as well stay home and watch a movie."

"No way am I going to miss seeing Élian try to work his barstool into a hookup." Rico took a pull on his beer.

"Hey, I'm ready to try anything." Élian poked Rico. "You should be too, jerk-off."

As Rico grabbed Élan's finger and twisted it, Sixto asked, "You hungry? I've got some junk." He opened the cabinet, pulled out Lays and Cheetos, and poured them into bowls.

They sat in the living room, Élian and Rico on one couch, Sixto on the other. He worked the remote and
Salsa
Cubana
played.

"Not dance music," Rico complained. "I wanna hear some rap."

He changed the play to top forty rock. "Roommate's home, I don't want to piss her off."

Élian looked around, "Are we gonna get to see her?"

"She's not on display." Sixto threw a Cheeto at him. "You can meet her if you want, but don't act like an ass, all right?" He looked toward Bree's door. They'd been missing each other all day, both of them spending time in their rooms.

Rico leaned forward. "Is she anything like the bitch?"

"Uh uh." The look in Bree's eyes today when she walked in—it was the first time he saw her since he'd interrupted her private moment. She didn't seem freaked out by it.

"What's she like?" Rico asked. "Is she my type?"

"
Bocón
, you told me yesterday you're interested in Marisa." Sixto didn't mind his sister getting involved with Rico. The guy'd had a crush on her for years.

"Marisa's back?" Élian asked Sixto. "For how long?"

"For good. She quit Disney World and she's staying with the parents until she can find a job."

"Why'd she quit? I thought she liked being The Little Mermaid."

Sixto set down his beer. "Guess she's getting old. She's thirty-four."

"Do you think I should offer her a job at the restaurant?" Rico grabbed a handful of chips.

Sixto shook his head. "You think she wants to work in a Cuban café? You can't ask a princess to do real work."

Élian laughed, but Rico asked, "Think she'd go out with me?"

Élian hit him on the shoulder. "She wouldn't go out with you in high school. You think she's lowered her standards since then?"

"Shut up,
pijirigua
." Rico snapped.

"I'm ridiculous?" Élian asked. "You've been in love with her for fifteen years and never got lucky."

"Hey!" Sixto growled. "That's my sister you're talking about."

Bree walked out of her bedroom carrying her laptop. She stopped when she saw he had company.

"Bree." He stood. "I'd like you to meet my friends."

The guys stood and turned, staring at her as she walked toward them.

"Aiyee, spooky," Rico whispered.

Sixto gave him a glare, but no one was looking at him. All eyes focused on Bree. She did look great tonight—a yellow sundress, her hair long and wavy, barefoot. Sexy.

"Bree, this is Rico Urizza and Élian Carriffa."

She shook each of their hands. "
Mucho gusto
."

Sixto smiled. He loved the effort she put into embracing their language. His friends looked presentable tonight, dressed for the club. Rico wore a green guayabera shirt and dark linen pants, cowboy boots, his collar-length black hair slicked back and pulled behind his ears.

Élian's wavy brown hair looked as messy as usual. He kept a mustache and soul patch because he thought it made his baby face look more manly. He wore a blue polo, khakis, and deck shoes with no socks. A Miami Vice fashion leftover.

What did Bree think of them? He watched her face for any signs of interest. When her smile remained friendly, and her gaze un-flirty, he relaxed.

"I'm sorry to hear about your sister," Élian said.

"Yeah, me too," Rico added. "We're going to miss her around here."

Bree blinked a couple times. Was it grief, or disbelief at Rico's bullshit? "That's kind of you to say." She looked at Élian, who stared at her as if she was the last potato chip in the bowl. "And thank you, Élian."

"You look just like your sister," Élian blurted.

She smiled. "We were identical twins."

"You'll have to excuse him." Rico nudged Élian. "He likes to state the obvious."

Élian nudged him back, Rico elbowed back.

To keep them from regressing into a full wrestling match, Sixto asked Bree, "Would you like to have a beer with us?"

"No, thank you. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No interruption," Rico said. "Sit down, I'll get you one." He flashed his trademark girl-getter smile as he brushed past her, a little too close.

Sixto moved back a step, offering her a seat next to him. They all sat, Rico brought her a beer, and the guys continued to stare.

Sixto nodded to her laptop. "You having problems with the internet?"

"Yes, but it can wait until tomorrow."

"No," Sixto moved closer. "We can look at it now."

She opened the computer.

Putting his arm on the back of the couch behind her, he bent his elbow and rested his cheek on his fist. Leaning in, his chest pressed against her arm. Her skin burned through his shirt, hot and soft.

His leg touched her knee and the contact shot electric sparks across his thigh. Damn. Her scent snuck into his nostrils and he inhaled deeply, softly floral, vanilla and spice. He could see down the front of her sundress and the view of her creamy breasts made his mouth water. Things started happening in his boxer briefs and he forced himself to concentrate on the computer.

She hadn't moved since she opened the laptop and he looked at her face. Her cheeks were red, her breathing was labored. God, was she as turned on as he was?

His brain slammed back into gear. Damn, they weren't alone.

The guys both sat motionless, staring at him, Élian had a potato chip halfway to his mouth.

Chapter Nine

Sixto looked up from staring at Bree's lips and caught Rico and Élian looked at each other as they sat on the couch across from them. Rico gave Sixto a questioning look and nodded toward Bree.

Sixto's eyes narrowed in warning and he shook his head slightly.

Bree moved her pointer and brought up the internet options. "I couldn't get a high speed connection." Her voice shook.

As he reached over and moved the pointer, his arm grazed her breast and she jumped. The slight touch sent a ripple of desire through him and it was his turn to sound unsteady. "If you choose this setting, but on this network, it'll be a lot faster."

She nodded. "Ah, okay. Thank you." She closed her laptop, set it on the table, and reached for her beer, effectively shifting away from him without being too obvious. She told the guys, "I've never been good with technical stuff."

"What are you looking for on the internet," Rico asked.

She took a drink of beer. "I need to find a gym."

Sixto jerked a thumb behind him. "You can use my equipment any time."

She smiled, but didn't look at him. "Thanks, but I really need to get out and meet people."

"Come out with us tonight," Élian offered.

"You should," Rico said. "We're going to a club, looking for—"

"
¡Callarse!
" Sixto cut him off.

Bree glanced at him, a surprised look on her face.

Rico huffed. "I was just going to tell her we're looking for a good Salsa band."

Bree laughed. "Then definitely no. The last thing you need is to drag a non-dancer along with you."

"You don't dance?" Élian's astonishment came through in his voice.

"Not well, no. Do you all dance?"

"Élian and I get by." Rico nodded at Sixto. "But he's the Salsa king."

She raised an eyebrow and smirked at Sixto. "Something I didn't know about you. I'll have to add that to your resume of unique talents."

He frowned at her. "You're keeping a list on me? Lucy, I don't want to have to throw you in the pool again."

She rolled her eyes and looked at the guys. "He did throw me in the pool."

Sixto smiled. "Only after she dumped ice water over my head."

Rico leaned forward. "Sounds like you two need a chaperone."

Bree's gaze shot to Rico's. "Rico.
¡Callarse!
"

Élian hooted at Bree's telling Rico to shut up and Sixto laughed, watching Bree's smiling face.

Rico's shock turned to laughter. "Bree, you have to come with us tonight. You'll fit in perfectly."

She shook her head. "Thanks, guys, but I have a date."

"What?" Jealousy hit Sixto like a fist to his gut.

Bree looked at him, a patronizing expression on her face. "A date. Remember we talked about this a few days ago. Boyfriend, girlfriend, going out together—"

He shook his head, exasperated with her sarcasm. "Where did you meet this guy?"

She pointed north. "At the grocery store. He's a teacher, he lives a few blocks from here. We went to dinner last night and we're going to a movie tonight at the CineBistro."

Sixto looked down at his beer. That must have been who she was talking about on the phone yesterday. The cute guy with the nice smile. Why did it bother him? He downed his beer.

Élian finished his beer, too. "He must be rich if he lives in this neighborhood."

Bree made a silly face. "Gee, I hope so."

Rico laughed. "Now that's exactly what I'm saying. Most women don't admit they're looking for a rich guy."

She nodded. "Lots of women are, but for me, there are more important qualities."

Élian tipped his head. "Like what?"

She stood. "Uh uh. I'm not going to have this conversation again." She picked up the empty beer bottles. "Can I get you guys another beer?"

Rico stood. "I'll help you." He followed her to the kitchen.

Élian got up and went into the bathroom.

Sixto watched the two in the kitchen, not trusting Rico.

Bree looked out the window. "Holy rockstar. Whose car is that?"

"That's my
fotingo
," Rico said. "A '77 Lincoln TownCar."

"It's beautiful. What's a
fotingo
?"

"It means old car."

"I've learned two words tonight.
Fotingo
and
callarse
."

Rico laughed. "I can teach you a few more, if you'd like to hire me as your tutor." He leaned in closer to her.

Élian came out of the bathroom and Sixto stood, picking up the bowls. "
¡Dale!
" Time to get Rico away from Bree. He should have warned her, the man was a hound.

"
Vamos a echar un pie
," Élian said. He looked at Bree. "That means, 'let's party'."

She smiled at Élian and Rico, but wouldn't meet Sixto's eye. "Have a good time tonight."

"I'll be right out," Sixto told the guys. He waited for them to leave. "Bree, are you sure you feel safe with this teacher?"

She turned her back to him and re-bagged the chips. "I do." Her voice was clipped, she seemed angry. "I'm meeting him there, so I'll have my car—just in case he offers to 'tutor me'."

Sixto huffed out a sigh. "Sorry about Rico. He can be intense."

She turned and looked into his eyes, hers narrowed, her lips pinched. "Not half as intense as you."

He took a step back. "What's that supposed to mean? I've been—"

She gestured toward the living room. "That possessive act on the couch?" She crossed her arms. "Was that supposed to show your friends that I'm not available?"