foolishly, getting it out of their system when they were still young. He fully understood that. But he also had a father’s desire to have his children learn from his mistakes so that they wouldn’t repeat them.
“Oh, there’s excitement here in this town, hijo,” he assured Matteo. “Trust me, there is excitement. It’s just of a different nature.”
Matteo smiled just before he tilted back his glass again. Obviously he and his father had very different definitions of “excitement,” and he could understand that. At sixty-one, his father had earned the right to kick back and take it easy, while he, a pilot like his father and twenty-eight to boot, wanted nothing less than to take on anything that life might want to throw at him. Doing so got his adrenaline going and made him feel alive. He’d always had a competitive streak, especially when it came to his brother. He and Cisco had been competing against one another for as long as either one of them could remember.
“Give this place a chance,” Cisco said with the thousand-watt smile that all the women within a ten-mile radius always found to be nothing short of spellbinding. “I know I am.”
Matteo looked at his jet-setting older brother in disbelief. He’d been right. Cisco had decided to stay on for a while. He couldn’t help wondering why. Cisco loved the pace in Miami as much as he did.
“You’re staying?” he asked. There had to be an angle that Cisco was playing, but what?
Cisco lifted his glass in a mock toast to his brother, then drained it before answering, “That’s what I just said.”
Cisco liked to party more than he did. His choosing to stay here didn’t make an iota of sense. “Why?” Matteo asked.
Cisco raised his broad shoulders and let them fall again in a vague, careless shrug. “Dad and Gabi seem sold on Horseback Hollow. That means there’s got to be some merit to this town, right? I intend to stick around awhile and find out if I see it for myself. Might be some good real-estate investments going begging here.” And then Cisco all but lit up. “Speaking of merit,” he said, his attention directed toward something—or someone—he saw over his brother’s head.
Curious, Matteo turned around in his chair, looking behind him. Which was when he saw her. The hostess he had verbally defended against the clowns at the other table a few minutes ago. She was heading their way. Matteo caught himself sitting up a little straighter.
When he had come to her assistance, he’d noted her height and the color of her long hair. He had of course observed that she was very attractive, but hadn’t gone out of his way to really take in each aspect of her beauty. Besides, her looks had nothing to do with his coming to her defense, and his attention had been focused more on the men annoying her, anyway.
He could see her head-on now. Suddenly everything that had previously been on his mind evaporated from his brain. Matteo forgot all about missing Miami or being stuck in what he’d thought of as a one-horse town.
Forgot about everything except what was right there in front of him and coming closer.
Heaven in an apron.
He could almost feel the electrical charge this beautiful young woman seemed to radiate with every step she took.
Matteo had to remind himself to continue breathing. Air kept getting stuck in his lungs. And if his mouth were any dryer, dust would have come spilling out the second he tried to talk.
He wasn’t the only one who was mesmerized by this vision. Out of the corner of his eye, Matteo saw that Cisco suddenly sat up, snapping to attention, his laid-back attitude becoming not quite so laid-back the second the hostess came into his line of vision.
As if on cue, the hostess stopped at their table, smiled and introduced herself to the trio.
“Hello, my name is Rachel, and I’ll be your server this afternoon. One of our regulars called in sick, and I’m covering for her.” She glanced from Orlando to his two sons. Recognizing the one on the older man’s right as the man who had come to her defense just a few minutes earlier, her smile grew wider in acknowledgment—chivalry should always be applauded. “Have you gentlemen decided yet?”
Matteo knew what he would have liked to order. Her. He kept that response to himself.
After his father and Cisco had placed their orders with the dark-haired, blue-eyed beauty, Matteo knew that he had ordered something, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what less than three seconds after the words had left his mouth.
He had been fixated on the way her lips moved as she spoke and the way his entire system reacted to the melodic sound of her voice.
“Are you all right, Matteo?” his father asked once Rachel had retreated to the kitchen.
Cisco smirked. Annoyance flared in Matteo’s veins. Now what?
“Yeah, sure. I’m fine, Dad.” He turned to look at his father, puzzled. “Why would you ask that?”
“Well, I have known you for your whole life, and in all those years, I do not remember a single time when I saw you eating a salad as your main course. I believe you referred to salads as—”
“Cow food,” Cisco interjected, unable to remain silent any longer. His laugh was full-bodied and hearty. And, right now, very annoying to Matteo. “I think my little brother was mesmerized by the lovely Rachel and didn’t know what he was ordering, Dad.”
“I wasn’t mesmerized,” Matteo protested with indignation, giving his brother a dirty look.
Matteo loved his older brother, but he hated being teased by Cisco. Cisco could be relentless, picking at him for days on end about a single thing if the spirit so moved him.
Now he grinned that wicked grin of his. “Hey, brother, I thought that she was a really hot little number, too.”
Orlando could see that this had the makings of another family fight. Matteo sounded as if he was taking offense for the young woman—who surely hadn’t a clue that she was the subject of this discussion, the older man surmised. As for Cisco, Orlando knew that the older boy loved to get Matteo riled up.
“We are all agreed that she is a very attractive young lady, Cisco. There is no reason for a dispute—or for you to give your brother a hard time,” Orlando chided his older son.
Matteo frowned. He knew his father meant well, but he didn’t need him coming to his aid this way. He wasn’t ten years old and unable to hold his own against Cisco. Even at ten, he hadn’t welcomed the interference.
“It’s okay, Dad,” Matteo said evenly, shifting his eyes to his brother. “Cisco didn’t mean anything by that.”
“Actually, I did,” Cisco contradicted him. “Are you declaring dibs on Rachel? ’Cause if you are, it looks like maybe you’ve found that reason to hang around Horseback Hollow for a while—until she rebuffs you in favor of someone else, of course.” Matteo’s brother chuckled to himself as he continued eating the triangular chips from the bowl in the center of the table.
“You mean you?” The question came spontaneously to Matteo’s lips, without any real thought necessary on his part.
Cisco’s grin spread wider, annoying Matteo almost beyond words. “Just possibly.”
