said Alina’s husband would be blond, where did that leave handsome, charming, dark-haired Eric Sepulveda?
It left him safe, she decided. She wasn’t going to marry Eric, only have a little fun.
“I think you missed the turn.”
“What?” Alina snatched the directions from Marissa’s hand and studied them. “It says to turn on Clarkson,” she said.
“Clarkson is about a block behind us.” Marissa pointed behind them.
Grumbling to herself, Alina turned the car around and headed back. She knew the right house the moment she turned onto the street, which was crowded with cars, trucks and vans on either side of the low brick ranch on the left side of the cul-de-sac. She pulled her compact car into a space half a block away and shut off the engine.
“Maybe we should have brought something with us,” she said as she studied the people who streamed into the house. Many of them carried coolers or covered bowls or platters.
“It’ll be okay,” Marissa said. “There are lots of people here. I bet they’ll have plenty.” She opened the door, but when Alina didn’t move, she paused. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to come in?”
“I’m a little nervous, that’s all.” Ever since they’d set out this morning, a curious energy had raced through her body, leaving every sense hyperalert. She couldn’t shake the feeling that today was really important—the kind of day that could change her life forever. Marissa might not understand, but Alina came from a family that respected intuition. When you had a grandmother who was known as a seer, people in her culture took it for granted you had a few gifts of your own.
“Come on,” Marissa said. “You can’t just sit out here. The sooner you get past the introductions, the sooner we’ll start having fun.”
“You’re right.” Nervous yet wanting to know what lay ahead, she followed Marissa across a yard strewn with children and toys. They followed a group of people through the open front door. She had a brief impression of comfortable furniture and rooms full of people before they emerged into the sunlit backyard. Mexican music blared from a radio balanced on a card table on the deck, while a group of men gathered around an enormous barbecue pit in a back corner. Voices spoke in Spanish and English, and the air was redolent with the aroma of smoking meat and spices.
“Alina!”
Eric strode toward her. Dressed in faded jeans and a black polo shirt, he was easily one of the handsomest men in attendance. He caught and held her gaze as he moved toward her, and briefly she forgot about everything except him and her wildly pounding heart.
“I’m glad you could make it,” he said. He surprised her by pulling her close for a quick, strong hug.
“Thank you.” She carefully—and somewhat reluctantly—extricated herself from his embrace. “It’s good to see you, too.”
The sharp pain of Marissa’s elbow in her side reminded Alina they weren’t alone. “This is my friend, Marissa Alvarez,” Alina said. “She’s a nurse at the hospital. I hope you don’t mind I brought her along.”
“No, that’s great. This is my friend Marty Padgett.”
For the first time Alina noticed the man standing next to Eric. She stared at him, and might have stopped breathing for a second. Marty was tall and broad and very blond, with a face like an angel.
“Hi, Alina.” Marty offered a meaty hand. “I bet you don’t remember me, but I’ve seen you at the hospital.”
She took the hand he offered, and waited for the tingle she was sure would surge through her—the signal that this was the man her grandmother had predicted would make her happy. Just because she didn’t really believe in the prophecy didn’t mean she’d pass up a chance at true love, happiness and the whole romance package.
But she experienced no particular sensation, except that Marty had kind of a weak handshake for such a big guy.
“Let me show you where everything is and introduce you to some people.” Eric took her arm and led her across the yard. Marissa and Marty trailed after them.
Alina glanced over her shoulder and saw that Marissa had her arm linked with Marty’s and was flirting with him in that open, friendly way of hers. Men always liked Marissa, with her fall of long dark hair and friendly smile.
The little procession halted in front of a half-dozen men and women who’d gathered in the shade of a spreading oak. “Everyone, this is Alina Allinova and her friend, Marissa Alvarez.” Eric turned to Marissa. “This is my brother John and my brother Bart and their wives, Renee and Sabina, and my sister Sofia and her husband, Guillermo.”
“Like you’re going to remember all that, right?” A stocky thirtysomething extended a hand. “Just remember that I’m the older, handsome brother,” he said. “Bart here—” he jerked his thumb at a slightly younger man with curly dark hair “—he’s the clown. Eric is the baby.”
“Some baby.” A slender woman with artfully streaked blond hair rolled her eyes and offered her hand also. “I’m Sofia, married to this big lug.” She nudged the shoulder of a short, barrel-chested man who grinned at her fondly. “We have three little boys running around here somewhere, but don’t bother trying to keep them straight. They’re all little wild men.”
“Sofia is closest to Eric in age,” John said. “She’s the youngest sister, but the bossiest.”
“Men need someone to tell them what to do.” Sofia gestured to her brothers. “They pretend to protest, but they’d be lost without us.”
Alina smiled and shook hands and tried to keep track of the many people and names. “How did an ugly sucker like my brother end up with two beautiful women as his guests?” Bart asked. “Tell the truth, ladies—did he bribe you to show up?”
“Can I help it if I got all the charm in the family?” Eric winked at Alina and she felt a warm tickle of attraction.
“It’s very nice to meet you all,” she said.
“We’ll have a little girl talk later,” Sofia said. “I want to hear all the dirt on my little brother.”
“Ignore her. There is no dirt.” Eric took Alina’s arm. “Come on. I want you to meet Mom and Pop.”
At the mention of his parents, Alina’s stomach gave a nervous shimmy. What if they didn’t like her? What if they were upset their son had invited a stranger to their home like this?
“Who is this?” demanded a short, broad man with Eric’s dimpled smile as the trio approached. He wore a black apron that proclaimed him King of the Grill.
“Dad, this is Alina Allinova and Marissa Alvarez,” Eric said.
“Bienvenidos,” Mr. Sepulveda boomed. “Welcome.” He shook both their hands. “Eric should bring such pretty women home more often.”
Alina flushed, touched by such an effusive welcome. “Thank you for hosting us,” she said, hoping she had the words right. She still struggled with English sometimes.
“Yes, this is a terrific party,” Marissa
