Someone Like Her(21)

 “Here you go,” he said and put a plate on the table.

 Three tacos and refried beans smothered in cheese appeared in front of her. Four tacos would’ve been better, but who was she to complain when she’d contributed nothing to their dinner?

 He chose the chair next to her and when Mouse stood on hind legs, his paws on Jake’s knee, his nose sniffing the air, Jake rolled his eyes. “Why’s he bothering me and not you?”

 “Cause you have fish.”

 He cut a sliver of the fish and tossed it across the kitchen. “Now go away, cat.”

 Mouse raced to the food, swallowed it in one bite, and in seconds was back with his paws on Jake’s leg.

 “Well that didn’t work as planned,” he grumbled.

 Then Jake’s hazel eyes focused on Maria as his fork, with a piece of fish on it came at her. She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

 “It’s just one bite. Come on, just a little taste.” One side of his mouth curved in a sly grin, and he snatched her plate away. “If you want your tacos back, all you have to do is open your mouth.”

 The man knew just the right threat to use. Giving in with a sigh, she squeezed her eyes shut and opened her mouth.

 “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

 As much as she hated to admit it, the fish was pretty good. It tasted buttery and lemony. Nothing like the cheap, smelly catfish her mother used to fry . . . when she remembered she had children to feed. “It was okay, but I’m not eating any broccoli, so don’t even try.”

 His amused chuckle didn’t reassure her there would be no greens in her future. “I’ll have you eating healthy yet.”

 Not if she had anything to say about it. She helped him clean up the kitchen, then excused herself to bathe. When she came out, he was on the sofa, his hair damp from a shower. Like her, he’d put on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. His bare feet were propped on the coffee table, and Mouse was curled up on his lap, asleep.

 “Looks like you’ve made a friend,” she said, taking the other end of the couch.

 He glanced down at her cat. “It wasn’t my choice.”

 “You fed him fish. He’ll love you forever now.”

 “Wish you’d told me that before I gave the furry demon any.” His deceptively innocent eyes turned to her. “Want to talk about it?”

 She didn’t have to ask what he meant and no, she didn’t want to talk about it. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow she’d have her feelings sorted out. Or not. “Other than I pray Fortunada’s not my biological father, what’s there to say?”

 “Even if you find out he is, it’s no reflection on you.”

 Easy for him to say; he had June Cleaver for a mother. His father had probably been perfect, too. “Do you remember your dad?” she asked to change the subject. The wistful, fond smile that appeared on his face confirmed her guess.

 “Just bits and pieces. Him giving me my first little-boy baseball glove and not yelling at me when I couldn’t catch half the balls he tossed at me. I remember how he would carry me around on his shoulders and I’d feel like the king of the world. Things like that.”

 Of course, she was happy he’d been so lucky to have great parents, but she couldn’t help feeling a little envious and resentful, too. Maybe it had been worse for him though, losing a perfect father at such a young age. When Lovey Dovey had died, all Maria had felt was relief.

 It was just all so confusing. She’d worked hard to make something of herself, to be as different from her mother as possible. Now, she had the clues that might lead her to her father, and the yearning she’d long ago quashed to have a mom who loved her had returned. Except this time, it was a dad she pictured affectionately smiling at her. God, her head was so screwed up.

 “Where’d you go?”

 She blinked, Jake’s face coming into focus. “Huh?”

 “You were a thousand miles away. Listen, I know you must feel overwhelmed by everything that’s happened. Why don’t you give yourself a night off, stop trying so hard to figure it out. Let it rest and maybe tomorrow it’ll all be clearer.”

 Doubtful, but her brain was threatening to go into meltdown, so she’d try to put her thoughts aside for a while. The long, elegant fingers lazily stroking her cat’s fur made her wish it was she those hands were caressing. That would help soothe her, for sure. His fingers slowly skimmed down Mouse’s spine to his rear end and then back up. Mouse gave a loud purr, and Maria resisted joining him.