Delicious Temptation Page 4

  His abuela shrugged. “No se, but she’s a good daughter. I’m sure she would do anything to help her family. Especially now.”

  That didn’t sound good. “What do you mean especially now, abuela?”

  “Oh, yes, well, the bakery isn’t as busy as it used to be. Poor Consuelo told Father Marco that they might close soon if they don’t get more business. She even asked Father Marco if they could start selling their pan dulce from a cart after Sunday Mass. He told her that the youth group already does that to raise money for their trips. She almost cried, that poor lady.”

  As his abuela played two more rounds of solitaire, Eric absorbed the information. The Robles’ family business was in trouble, and Amara had been summoned to fix it. That was a lot of responsibility to bear on such beautiful shoulders.

  Eric shook his head, clearing the memory of her soft cries against his lips from his mind. Forget about her. He hadn’t come back home to fuck his ex-best friend’s sister, no matter how tempting the thought might be. He’d come back for a chance to start his life over and prove to himself and to others that he could be more than just a drunk or a criminal. He needed to concentrate on taking care of his abuela and getting back on his feet financially so he could rebuild his construction company. He also needed to make things right with Miguel—probably the only person in the world who had put up with all of his bullshit, no matter what, and Eric had basically repaid him by disappearing for twelve years. That was why he’d written the letter. He had to apologize and let Miguel know why he’d left and why he’d stayed away for so long.

  Tarnishing his little sister’s reputation with a meaningless one-night stand probably wasn’t going to win Eric any bonus points.

  He had to stop thinking of Amara as the sexy woman he’d just made out with. In fact, it would be better for them both if he just stopped thinking of her altogether, since he was pretty sure she’d come to her senses and regret ever having kissed him.

  Chapter Three

  “Ugh, I’m going to gain fifty pounds by the end of the week. Why couldn’t your parents own a beet farm instead of a bakery? I hate beets.”

  Amara looked at her cousin Daisy, who had just finished stuffing a cheese-filled Danish into her mouth.

  “Maybe you should try selling the stuff instead of eating it?”

  Daisy wiped her bright-red lips with a napkin. “And who exactly am I supposed to be selling it to? We haven’t had a customer in over an hour.”

  “I know. Friday is usually one of our busiest days. I’m sure we’ll get a rush around lunchtime,” Amara said as she put on a new pot of coffee to brew. Truth was, she wasn’t sure at all. The weekends were getting to be almost as slow as the weekdays, and that was beyond worrisome. That’s why she’d enlisted her cousin’s help. She needed some fresh ideas and a plan to get new customers in the door.

  Daisy and her expensive college marketing degree had been “let go” from her agency last month. Only Amara knew that she’d really quit after getting into it with her boss—again. Her dad would’ve been furious if he knew, especially since he was still helping her pay off her student loans. Daisy told everyone she’d been laid off and moved back home. But just like his brother, Carlos Robles didn’t believe in free rides. He’d given her six months to find a job at another agency or else he’d get her a job himself at the factory where he worked. Daisy had agreed to his terms, but confided to Amara that although she didn’t want to work at another agency, or at the factory, she had no idea what she did want to do. So Amara convinced her to help out at the bakery until she figured it out.

  It was her first day and all she’d done so far was eat three cheese Danishes. Amara needed to find her something to do before she picked up another one.

  “How about you go home and get your laptop? That way we can start making a list of things we can do to get some business in here.”

  Daisy nodded and pulled her purse from underneath the cash register cabinet. “I’m telling you, Amara. The key to everything is going to be getting the students from the college in here.”

  “Well, that will be first on our list then. Go on, get.”

  Her cousin waved and walked out the front door. With Daisy gone, though, she no longer had anything to keep her mind off of Eric and how sexy he sounded when he groaned in her ear. That memory alone left her feeling like a tangled ball of nervous energy, ready to burst free.

  She needed a distraction, and fast.

  Amara looked around the bakery. She’d already cleaned out the refrigerator and refilled her spice rack earlier. The counter had already been wiped down more times than she could count. The floor shined—well, as much as it could, considering its condition.

  She looked at the tray of doughnuts inside the bakery’s smaller glass cabinet and was debating on whether to color-code them by frosting and cake color when her pregnant sister-in-law walked through the front door.

  Thank God.

  “The baby wants polvorones,” Trina announced. “And he wants at least six. Don’t judge.”

  Amara hugged her and they exchanged kisses on the cheek. “Who am I to judge you?” she told Trina. “I can eat four of those in one sitting and I’m not even pregnant!”

  They both laughed, and she relaxed for the first time since Eric had walked out of the bakery. She fingered the letter securely nestled inside her jeans’ front pocket. She’d brought it with her while she debated what do with it, but Trina’s unexpected visit made the decision for her.

  Amara set out two napkins on the bakery’s single Formica-top table. Trina sat in one of the white plastic patio chairs, while Amara gave them each three of the disc-shaped cookies dusted in powdered sugar. As she pulled two water bottles from the refrigerated case near the cash register, she decided that her sister-in-law could tell her whether Miguel would want to know about Eric being back in town.

  Time to open Pandora’s box.

  She let her finish one cookie before bringing up the subject. A hungry Trina was a distracted Trina and Amara needed her full attention for this very important conversation.

  “So, you’ll never guess who came into the bakery yesterday.” She took a bite of her cookie and waited.

  “Who?” asked Trina, after popping another cookie into her mouth.

  “Eric Valencia.” Amara tried to keep her voice nonchalant. But even saying his name quickened her pulse unexpectedly.

  “Shut up!” Crumbs flew out of Trina’s mouth and all over the small table. Eyes wide, she grabbed the bottle of water and gulped. “No way. No freaking way!”

  Amara nodded.

  “Is he back for good, or just visiting? Did he say where he’s been for the last twelve years?”

  “He didn’t say. We, um, we didn’t get a chance to talk that much actually.”

  Trina took another gulp of water. Her eyes narrowed. “Did he ask about Miguel?”

  The concern in her voice tugged at Amara’s heart. Of course Trina wanted to protect her husband. She’d been there on the day that Eric had skipped their graduation ceremony and left town without a word. The three of them—Miguel, Trina, and Eric—had all been part of the same group of friends. And after Eric left, Trina had come over to the house almost every day that summer to take Miguel out and keep him busy so he wouldn’t miss the best friend who had deserted him. That’s when the two of them had become a couple. So in a way, Eric helped push them together.

  That is, after he’d ripped everything apart.

  Amara pulled the envelope out of her pocket and slid it across the table in front of Trina. “He left this letter for Miguel.”

  Both of them looked at the envelope. “Did you read it?” Trina asked.

  “No. I wanted to, but that wouldn’t be right…right?”

  “Right.” She agreed. They continued staring at the envelope as if it might suddenly jump up and bite them. Given they had no idea what the letter said, it still just might.

  “So what do you think? Do you want to give it to Miguel?”
Amara held her breath.

  Trina put her hand over her mouth and looked out the window. “I don’t know what this will do to him…”

  Amara knew what she meant. Miguel had thought of Eric like a brother. Although he never said it directly to her, she knew he missed his friend. Plus, a lot of people believed Miguel knew where Eric had gone all along.

  But he didn’t know. And after a few months, Miguel told everyone that he didn’t care.

  Trina put her hand on her stomach. “He should know. He deserves to know.” She took the letter and stuck it inside her purse. They sat there in silence for a few minutes. Finally Trina pushed her napkin toward Amara. “Bartender, hit me again.”

  She nodded got up to fetch three more polvorones.

  Trina closed her eyes and took a bite. “Seriously, these are the best things you’ve ever made.”

  Amara shrugged. “They’re just shortbread cookies with chopped walnuts. All I’m doing is following my dad’s recipe. I bet you could make them just as easy.”

  “No way. First of all, your brother married me for many reasons, but my baking skills were not one of them. Second of all, I’ve had your dad’s polvorones and these are way better. They’re just so buttery, sweet and…and…sinful.”

  An image of Eric’s lips flashed before her eyes. Now those were sinful.

  “Hello? Amara?”

  Trina’s voice interrupted her impure thoughts about another part of Eric’s body and the way it had grown hard and hot against her.

  “I’m sorry, I was thinking about the recipe for the polvorones. I guess I did make a few small tweaks to it.”

  “See, I knew it. You need to give yourself more credit, honey. When are you going to start selling some of your own desserts here?”

  Amara rolled her eyes. “Can we please not talk about that again? There was an unfortunate incident yesterday involving my mother and a tres leches cupcake that I’d rather not discuss.”

  Trina gave her a knowing smile. She’d had enough “incidents” of her own with Amara’s mother to know not to push for further info. “Alrighty then. Let’s talk about Eric. How did he look? Does he still have those killer eyelashes?”

  The way Eric looked, or how he smelled, or how he kissed her was not something Amara wanted to discuss, either. She shot out of her chair and mumbled something about needing to clean up in case a customer walked in.

  “Um, since I’ve been here, not one person has walked through those doors. Why are you acting all shifty-like?”

  “I’m not acting shifty. Is that even a word? I just felt like getting up, you know, to let the cookies digest.”

  “What gives, my sister from another mister? Watcha freaking out about? Would it have anything to do with a certain dark-haired eyelash model from our past?”

  Suddenly it seemed like a good time to start folding pastry boxes. What if a tour bus showed up with twenty customers wanting to buy a dozen cookies each? Better to be safe than sorry.

  “Oh. My. God.” Trina flew out of her chair and followed Amara around the bakery. “You are acting goofy because of Eric! Did he say something, did he do something?”

  “No!”

  Tiny hands grabbed her by both arms and turned her around. Trina’s Cheshire cat grin told Amara she couldn’t lie about what had happened between her and her brother’s ex-best friend.

  “Spill it, Amara Maria Robles. Or God help me, I’ll will accidentally mention my suspicions in front of your mother!”

  Trina had pulled out the big gun. Amara folded. “He kissed me,” she muttered under breath and looked at her shoes.

  “Huh? What did you say?”

  Amara met Trina’s eyes. “I said, ‘He kissed me.’”

  “Shut up!” Trina shoved Amara’s right shoulder. “What a fucking pervert. I’m going to tell Miguel to kick his ass. We should have him arrested for attempted sexual assault.”

  Amara shook her head and waved her hands frantically. “No, you don’t understand. I kissed him back!” Then she explained everything that had happened, from the minute he walked through the door to when he walked out.

  Back at the table, Amara let out a long sigh and put her head in her hands. “I don’t understand it. I haven’t seen the guy in years and all of a sudden I want to jump his bones right there in the middle of my parents’ kitchen!”

  Her sister-in-law laughed like a hyena. “Okay, first of all honey, no one says ‘jump his bones’ anymore. You wanted to fuck him, plain and simple. Second of all, of course you wanted to fuck him. You’ve had a crush on him since you were thirteen or fourteen, right?”

  Amara opened her eyes in shock. She didn’t even know what to say.

  “Sorry sister, but it was kind of obvious.”

  “You mean Eric knew that I…”

  “Well, I did and I’m sure Miguel did. But, maybe not Eric. He was kind of oblivious about those kinds of things back then. Remember when that twit Mariah’s car kept coincidentally breaking down in front of your house on the days we were all there? I think it was only after the third of fourth time that Miguel finally slapped Eric on the back of the head and told him to ask her out.”

  The mention of Eric’s girlfriend from high school twisted her gut into a giant knot.

  Trina must’ve sensed it and reached out to pat Amara’s hand. “So what are you going to do?”

  “Well, I have to make the dough for tomorrow’s batch of polvorones. You’re probably going to wipe out my supply, right?”

  “No, silly. Well, yes, I’m going to take everything you got. But no, that’s not what I meant. I meant, what are you going to do about Eric?”

  Should Amara confess that she’d been thinking about a possible second round of heavy kissing? Or more? Probably not. So she played dumb. “What do you mean? There’s nothing to do, right?”

  “Okay, I’m relieved to hear that. I don’t even want to think of what your brother—or your parents—would do if you two got together.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  “I know that he’s made some mistakes, but that was a long time ago. He seems like he’s different, like he wants to make things right. Maybe that’s what the letter to Miguel is all about?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it will be up to your brother to decide. Either way, he’s not really your type, right?”

  “Don’t. Just don’t. My mother basically said the same exact thing.”

  “Well, you know I always have your back when it comes to Consuelo, but I have to admit that in this case she’s right. Eric was my friend, too, but even I knew he had issues. Just because he’s older doesn’t mean those issues have gone away. Getting involved with him will only cause lots of unnecessary drama. You don’t need that in your life, honey.”

  “Oh my gosh. I’m so tired of people telling me what I need and don’t need in my life. I’m not a little kid!” Amara pushed herself away from the table and walked into the kitchen. She knew Trina would follow her. And after a few seconds she did.

  “Whoa there,” her sister-in-law said from the doorway. “What’s with all the yelling? I’m just offering an opinion. I’m not telling you what to do.”

  “Funny. That’s what my mom always says. You know, after she tells me what to do.”

  “Wait,” Trina said. “First I agree with Consuelo, and now I’m talking like her? I think I need to sit down.”

  They laughed and Amara gave Trina a hug. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “It’s okay. And you’re right. It’s no one else’s business who you want to date or sleep with. I promise to keep my big pregnant butt out of your love life from now on.”

  “Amara has a love life! With who?”

  Both of them turned and saw Daisy standing in the doorway.

  “Nobody.” Amara sighed and hoped against hope her cousin wouldn’t ask any more questions. Luckily, the jingle of the front door interrupted any more grilling. “Daisy, can you go he
lp that customer, please?”

  “Fine, don’t tell me,” she muttered and stomped back out.

  Trina rolled her eyes and laughed. “I still can’t believe she’s working here.”

  “Well, working isn’t exactly the word I’d use. She’s supposed to be helping me with some marketing stuff for the bakery but all she’s done so far is gobble up half of my inventory. She may be tiny, but that girl can eat.”

  “God, I’d kill for her metabolism. And her perky boobs. I’m going to need them after breastfeeding this little guy,” Trina said, pointing to her rounded belly.

  “Thank you for saying that stuff earlier about not meddling in my love life. Even if it was just part of a master plan to get more cookies.”

  “You see right through me, don’t you?”

  Amara chuckled and hugged her sister-in-law again. “I’ll grab some for you to take home.”

  “Hey, why don’t you come over tomorrow and make me food?” Trina asked while Amara packed her a box of cookies. “Just kidding. We’ll order pizza for dinner and watch rich housewives scream at each other and knock over tables.”

  “Sorry, but I can’t. Daisy and I are making a cake for the Lozanos’ baby’s baptism in the morning and then I have to deliver it to the party at 5 p.m.”

  “So deliver it and then come over. Bring Daisy, too. Housewives are known to be fashionably late.”

  Amara handed her the box. “Well, Daisy might be able to go, but I have to stay after I deliver the cake because my parents can’t. They have that concert tomorrow at the Hollywood Bowl. So I need to represent and make sure that everyone at the party knows that the cake is from the Robles Panaderia.”

  Trina agreed to a rain check for the following weekend, and promised Amara she’d give Miguel the letter after he got home from work.

  Later, as she rolled the dough for another batch of cookies, she thought about Trina’s reaction to her kiss with Eric. She’d automatically assumed he’d done something wrong. Maybe she should’ve given the letter directly to her brother instead? That way she could tell him herself that he seemed different and encourage Miguel to give him a chance.