Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36122 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
His father had always been a chess enthusiast—he’d been a Salvadoran junior champion—and he’d insisted all the kids learn to play as well. Esteban was nowhere near as skilled as his father, but the offer to spend some time together mattered on a deeper level than the chance to win.
“Si, Papi. How about next week, I come see you? I’ll cook you this new chicken recipe I found, and we can play a few games. And as to Russ—my friend—we will see. It’s still…new.”
“Ah, but your eyes… You say his name and you smile. You’ll bring the chero around eventually.” He patted Esteban’s arm. “Don’t make Maria wait. Curiosity…it’s not good for the baby.”
“Aha! I was right!” Esteban gave him a wide smile. “And you? You’re curious too?”
He couldn’t remember his father taking an interest in his dates before. It was new. And nice. And a little disconcerting since he still hadn’t figured out what was happening with Russ.
“Eh. I just like you smiling.” His father pointed to a stack of pasteles. The little pastry patties were filled with a spicy pork and always a favorite of his dad’s. “Don’t forget one of those.”
“You’re sharing?”
Shrugging, his father patted his stomach. “I can only have so many these days. Go. See your friend. Que le vaya bien. Ten cuidado.”
“Vaya pues.”
He made his goodbyes as he finished selecting the food for Russ. He liked his father telling him to take care and that he hoped things went well for him. It gave him fresh hope for the future and reminded him that moving back home to Oregon had been the right call.
And as he made his way to his car, he wondered again what Russ would think of his family, if he played chess or would be willing to learn, if he’d be as gentle with Maria’s kids as he was with Benny, if he’d enjoy the noise and chaos or if it would be too much for him.
The smart thing would be to put Russ’s food in the fridge, spend some time tonight with his thoughts, trying to make sense out of his jumbled mind, but apparently, he was incapable of being smart where Russ was concerned. Still in Maria’s driveway, he sent another fast text.
I should be home in fifteen minutes. Want some leftovers? It was a sad, sad state of affairs that after all that food, the thing he wanted most for his Christmas Eve was a taste of Russ’s lips. And after a few years in that condo, it now felt more like a home than ever before.
Chapter Eleven
“Now what’s this one called again?”
Russ wasn’t entirely sure why Esteban had invited him over on Christmas Eve after a long day with his family. But he’d greeted Russ with a sweet kiss and containers of food. Russ had set aside the savory stuff for later, but he hadn’t been able to resist sampling the sweet offerings.
“Quesadilla Salvadorena. It’s made with cheese, but I always think it tastes more like pound cake.”
“I like it.” Russ brushed a stray crumb off his thumb. They were sitting on Esteban’s couch, box of cakes and pastries between them. At some point in the last few days, a mini tree had appeared in the corner with red and green twinkly lights. A few other decorations were on the dining table and along the bookshelf. “And I like your tree. Very festive.”
“Eh. It was one from work. I didn’t want to see it thrown out.” Esteban shrugged. “Next year, maybe I will do more. Lights in the window. An actual tree with ornaments.”
“That sounds nice.” Russ easily imagined decorating together, replacing the stark neutrals at his place with some seasonal colors. “And maybe you can show me how to make this cake. I bet Judy would like it.”
“Perhaps.” Esteban’s eyes turned somber.
Russ figured he was remembering that they might not be friends next holiday season, let alone anything else. But Russ was on a mission to win Esteban’s affections. The past few days had been so good—stolen kisses and shared meals and sexy touches. He refused to believe that Esteban was immune to what was happening between them. And they still hadn’t broken up the fake relationship. That had to count for something.
“Is tomorrow a leftover feast for your family?”
“Yes.” Esteban laughed. “The big meal and celebration is always Christmas Eve. Then Christmas day is more about the kids. I’ll probably head over to Maria’s in the afternoon, see what Santa brought the kids.”
“Fun. Our big meal is usually Christmas day, not Christmas Eve like your family’s tradition. Judy’s hosting, but Connie arranged for the meal from one of the gourmet grocery stores—fancy ham and sides that all Judy needs to do is reheat.”
“Next year maybe you’ll be so confident in the kitchen that you’ll make the ham.”