Page 42 of Too Fast To Fall
“What are you making?” she asked.
“Arroz con pollo.”
“Your grandmother taught you to make this, right? You talked about it on Mia’s podcast.”
“Yes. It’s the same recipe she learned from her grandmother.” He added chopped onion, garlic, and peppers to the pan as soonas the oil was hot.
“That’s amazing you have that kind of tradition in your family. My parents are such meat-and-potatoes people. I can’t imaginethem teaching me to make something so gourmet.”
“This is everyday food in Spain.” He stirred the contents of the pan so masterfully, Piper was mesmerized. His hands werepure magic. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” he said, peering down into the pan.
“It’s just my sister. The one who’s getting married.”
“It sounded stressful.” He cleared his throat. “Is everything okay?”
She blew out a sigh of relief. That question told her grumpy Emilio hadn’t returned. “It was. Everything about her weddingis stressful. But it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”
He remained focused on cooking. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
She glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Xander and Mia are going to be here soon. This is not a short story.”
“I’d appreciate some company while I cook. And it’s no fun to cook in silence.” He turned and smiled at her then—just halfa grin, his eyes dark and warm and inviting. It was like he was asking her to share, all with a look. “I remember you sayingyou weren’t looking forward to the wedding.”
She couldn’t believe he remembered. Or that he cared. And because he’d done both of those things, she was eager to offer ananswer. “More like dreading it. I have been, pretty much from the moment I was asked to be maid of honor. And if we’re goingto talk about this, I’m going to need wine.”
“Coming right up.” Emilio reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle. He made quick work of the cork and filled two glasses.“Albarino. From Spain. Of course.”
Piper took a sip—it was crisp and lightly sweet with a dry finish. Why did everything she encountered from Spain have to beso perfect? “Wow. Delicious.”
“I agree.” He added the chicken to the pan and began browning it. “You were saying? About the wedding?”
Piper took one more sip for courage. “So, my sister Gabby and her fiancé, Lucas? Guess how they met each other.”
“No idea.”
“They were set up by me and Kyle, my ex. He’s been Lucas’s best friend since they were little. I met Lucas and thought he’dbe perfect for Gabby. So we made the introduction, they fell in love and Kyle broke off our engagement.”
Emilio set down his glass and looked right at her. “You’re kidding.”
“That’s not even the worst part. Kyle is Lucas’s best man, and since I’m maid of honor, that basically means if you look uppainfully awkward in the dictionary, there’ll be a picture of me in a bridesmaid’s dress.”
“How could your sister do that to you?”
“The dress? Or the other part?” Piper had to make a joke. Otherwise, she might cry.
“Very funny. The other part.”
Piper shrugged. “It’s not her fault. It’s a terrible set of circumstances.”
“I don’t know. This seems especially cruel,” Emilio said, speaking the one thought into existence that had been coiled tightlyin Piper’s head for months.
Still, Piper felt the need to fully explain. She wasn’t a victim. “In my sister’s defense, she gave me an out. She told meI didn’t have to accept her invitation to be maid of honor.”
“How are you supposed to say no? She’s getting married. She never should’ve put it on you.” Emilio reached over and laid hishand on Piper’s forearm. The electricity she’d felt when they’d accidentally touched had nothing on an intentional touch—itwas like she had all new nerve endings, and man, were they excited to meet him. “Or, what if she told her fiancé he neededto pick a different best man because her own sister had her heart broken by him?”
Piper felt frozen. She’d asked herself those same questions, but she’d assumed it was because she was giving in to selfishthoughts. Maybe it was another instance of her being terrible with boundaries. “I could never ask her to do that.”
“Why?”
