Then Daisy said, “Sugar, count your lucky stars he gave you a week of f**kin’ around. Now that he’s serious, you’re his. No ifs, ands or buts, just plain ole his. Comprende?”

“But –” I started.

“I say this to all the girls even though they never listen but I’ll say it again, don’t fight it,” Jet cut in.

“But –” I tried again.

Daisy giggled at Jet. “Now we get to the fun stuff.”

Fun?

Were they plum crazy?

This was not fun!

Before I could say more, they hugged me and left.

Leaving me alone with Angry Hector.

Blooming heck.

His long strides took him from the sidewalk to me in no time at all. He grabbed my hand and dragged me into the house.

“Choose now, we shower here or we shower at your place,” he said, not breaking stride as he pulled me up the stairs.

We shower?

We?

“Hector –”

He turned unexpectedly and tugged me into the bathroom.

“We shower here. Ralphie and Buddy might be at your place, here, you can make all the noise you want.”

Noise?

I was going to make noise?

Why would I…?

Then it came to me.

Oh no.

“Hector –”

His hands went to the hem of the flannel, up and then it was gone.

“Hector!” I snapped.

His blazing eyes locked on mine. “Mamita, we don’t have a lot of time, don’t piss me off. Pissin’ me off is gonna take time.”

My mouth dropped open.

Then I snapped it shut.

“Don’t… don’t…” I stuttered then demanded to know, “Why are you angry?”

He put his hands to both sides of my neck, pulled me close and tilted his head down to look at me.

“I don’t know,” he replied sharply. “Maybe it’s because your first thought this morning was that anyone would think you were a murderer, even me. Fuck, you sat in my f**kin’ lap and swore to me you didn’t do it like I would think for one f**kin’ second that you would.”

“But –” I tried to cut in but he kept talking.

“Or maybe it’s because no matter what I do and what you do, you aren’t f**kin’ cluin’ into what’s happenin’ here.”

“And what, exactly, is happening here?” I shot back.

His eyes got dark (or, I should say, darker) and he said quietly, “Now you’re pissin’ me off.”

I threw my hands out to the sides, exasperated. “Why?”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you payin’ attention at all?”

“Yes!” I snapped, totally over it and then I went straight into a rant. “But I don’t get it. Excuse me, Hector Chavez, but you saw how I grew up, you know! I’ve never been to a Family Meeting! I’ve never put on lip gloss in the restroom of a club with my girlfriends! I’ve never sat around a dinner table looking through photos and reminiscing! All this is happening while the Balducci brothers are assaulting and threatening me, my father is freaking me out and I’m having conversations with police detectives. Not to mention, you’ve decided not to ‘fuck around anymore’, whatever that means, and I have an opening tomorrow! So, if I’m a little slow, you’ll have to cut me some f**king slack, all right?”

Somewhere during my rant, Mr. Mood Swing decided he wasn’t angry anymore (really! how was I supposed to keep up with this guy?) and his face went soft, his eyes went so warm they were hot and his fingers drifted up into my hair.

As his head descended, he murmured, “All right, mi corazón, I’ll cut you some slack”

“Well, thank you,” I said, sounding snippy which was hard when his mouth had settled on mine.

“Now I’m gonna do you in the shower then we’ll get you home, you can get changed, get your stuff because you’re spendin’ the night tonight and we’ll go to La Reunión.”

My heart flipped, my belly melted and my irritation disappeared.

“Do me in the shower?” I breathed.

His tongue traced my bottom lip and that felt so nice, my knees buckled right out from under me, so badly I had to grab on to the material of his tee at his waist to stay standing.

His eyes were open and looking into mine.

“Yeah,” he said against my mouth.

“I think I’m not over my rant.”

His hands left my hair, he pulled my skirt up around my waist, his thumbs hooked into my panties and I gasped against his mouth as he pulled them down.

“You can yell at me while I’m f**kin’ you.”

Oh my.

That was it, I wished I could say I was stronger, held out a little longer but I melted.

And, incidentally, we showered, he did me in the shower, my back against the tiled wall, my legs wrapped around his waist, my hands everywhere they could touch and I didn’t yell at him while he was doing it.

* * * * *

The rest of the day weirded me out, so much, I couldn’t handle it so I decided to ride with it and memorize every last second so I could carry it with me forever.

We went to the brownstone and I did my business (with the addition of Buddy begging Hector and me to take YoYo, even if she was spending the night at Hector’s because, he explained, Ralphie was becoming so attached to the dog, Buddy feared there would be a dognapping).

We loaded up my stuff (Hector told me to “pack heavy” which meant more than a night’s worth and, after my rant, I didn’t have it in me to put up a fight so I did as he ordered), YoYo, YoYo’s doggie paraphernalia (under Ralphie’s maniacal dognapper-in-the-making glare) and we headed off to Blanca’s.

Jet and Eddie were getting married imminently and Jet was barely holding onto her dream vision of a wedding. She’d given into the whole Catholic Mass thing (for Blanca) but for a reception, she’d hired a barn somewhere in the mountains, replete with a hog roast, hayrides, a bonfire and s’mores at the end.

Bizarrely, at the same time, Blanca and Nancy had rented the local hall, Blanca’s cousins were catering and Nancy’s neighbor was going to croon lounge music during a sit down, four course meal.

And, apparently, Blanca and Nancy’s vision included loads of lavender bunting.

After a gut-busting lunch, Nancy and Blanca ganged up on Jet.