The Spanish Love Deception: A Novel
The Spanish Love Deception: Chapter 16

I stood with my hands on my hips, getting a little lost in the palette of blues and greens that painted the view before me.

When people thought of Spain, they thought of jammed beaches under the merciless summer sun. They thought of tables loaded with jars of sangría, pans stuffed with paella, and a payload of tapas. They most likely thought of some dark-haired dude serenading the evening with impossibly masterful fingers stringing a guitar too. And in a way, they were not completely wrong. One could replace that in Spain. But it was only a small part of what represented my home country. One that sadly didn’t even cover ten percent of what it offered.

The small city where I had come from stood on the most northern coast of the peninsula, wedged between the often fierce and ivory Cantabrian Sea and a range of emerald mountains.

Contrary to general belief, the country wasn’t bathed in sun throughout the whole year either. Particularly not the northern regions. Nope. The north of Spain was known for granting its inhabitants the chance to experience all four seasons in the span of a few hours, any day of the year. Which made possible for the vegetation to grow wild and lush, engulfing pastures and hills and creating an image very few thought of when it came to Spain.

So, yeah, summer wasn’t all that great in the north. But surprisingly, today the sky was clear, and the breeze from the sea was gentle. It brought me back to a time when, in days like these, we would try to make the most of it, as if our life depended on it. From dawn till dusk. Isabel and me. Las hermanas Martín. The Martín sisters.

Taking a peek at the group of people who had gathered today for the Wedding Cup, a little part of me wondered what was going on inside of Aaron’s head. What had been his first impression of the place that had seen me grow up? Of my people?

Introductions had gone better than good. If Spaniards were known for something, it was their openness and hospitality. Nobody had seemed to bat an eyelash at my fake boyfriend. Not more than the awkwardness of having a guiri—what we called tourists—and therefore having to use their rusty English.

Only the youngest generation of both the bride and groom’s families, their partners, and some of our closest friends were here. Except for our barbaric and free-spirited cousin Lucas, who no one knew where he had disappeared to this time. And the best man—otherwise known as Daniel, my ex, my first and only relationship, or the man my family believed I had never gotten over. He had not arrived yet.

“Aquí está mi hermana favorita.” My sister’s voice reached me a heartbeat before I was tackled from behind.

“I’m your only sister, idiot. Of course I’m your favorite.” I wrapped my hands around her forearms, which were resting on my collarbone.

“Forget about technicalities. You are still my fave.”

Sticking my tongue out, I looked at her over my shoulder. If not for our heart-shaped faces, we wouldn’t look anything alike. Isabel had always been taller and leaner than me. Her eyes had little green speckles to the brown we shared—something I had always been envious of—and her hair was curlier and darker, just like Mamá’s. But the differences didn’t stop there. Where my sis was this puzzle piece that fit anywhere at the first try, I had always seemed to struggle with replaceing my place. Somehow, I always managed to be missing a little corner or have an extra edge that pushed me to keep trying somewhere I might fit better. That pushed me to keep looking for that place to call home. Because that was no longer Spain for me. But neither was New York as much as I had Rosie and a career I was proud of. It had always felt … a little lonely. Incomplete.

“Hello? Earth calling Lina,” she said, coming to my side and tugging at my arm. “What’s up with you today? Why are you hiding here?”

I had been doing that, hadn’t I? Even if only for a few minutes.

My big sister knew me far too well, so I made a note of being extra watchful around her with Aaron. If there was someone who would see through the deception, it would be Isabel.

“Not hiding.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I was just trying to have a moment of peace away from the bridezilla. I heard she almost ripped the groom’s head off because he’d bought the wrong shoes.”

I stepped away and turned, so I could face her.

“You heard that right.” My sister and bride-to-be brought a hand to her chest, feigning dismay. “I let him pick one thing, Lina. One. And he came home, all proud and happy, with a pair of shoes that made me question my taste in men, really.” She shook her head. “I was this close to uninviting him to my wedding.”

“Our wedding, you mean.” I laughed.

“Yeah. Didn’t I say that?” The corner of her lips tugged up with mischief. “Anyway, I think we still have about an hour or so until lunch break. Are you ready?”

A look passed between us.

“For my death? Always.”

“Come on, drama queen,” Isabel said, linking our arms and pulling me in the direction of the group. “Time to go back. Gabi sent me to fetch you. There’s a schedule, you know.”

I pouted.

“Oh, stop that. It’ll be fun.”

“It hasn’t been, and it won’t be,” I said, dragging my feet but following her because what choice did I have? “Gabi has turned into this cute but terrifying sports mogul, and everyone is scared of her.”

Isa snorted. “It’s not that bad. Plus, we might still win. We are only three points behind those stupid suckers.”

“Did you just call your fiancé a stupid sucker?”

“Fine, we are only three points behind Team Groom. Better?”

“Better. But”—I shot her a humorless glance over my shoulder—“they are still going to smash us like cockroaches.”

Shaking my head, I thought of how unathletic Team Bride was compared to our male counterpart. The points we had collected were lame pity points Gabi had given us to keep the team motivated. Well, everybody else on the team but me. Motivation had left me long ago. I was ready to call it a day and go stuff my mouth with food. My jet-lagged body had flipped the hungry switch, even before we started running around with this nonsense.

“You can blame yourself for that.” My sister’s pointer finger joined her accusation. “You brought Clark Kent’s doppelgänger to the party.”

“He does look like him, doesn’t he?”

Isabel nodded. “And by the way …” She paused, and before I could dodge it or be prepared for it, she tugged at my ponytail. A little too hard.

“Hey!” I grabbed my hair and moved out of the trajectory of other possible attacks. “What the hell was that for, bridezilla?!”

“Don’t be a baby; you deserved it. How dare you keep that”—Isabel pointed at Aaron, making me smack her hand down—“hidden from me!”

“Isabel,” I warned.

She went on, ignoring me and waving her index finger in my fake boyfriend’s direction, “When my sister starts dating someone, I expect a full report. Vivid descriptions, photos, videos, oil paintings—I don’t care. Even those dick pics I mentioned, which you never sent.”

“Isabel.” I lowered my voice. “Shut up. He will hear you.”

We were only a few feet away from the group.

She cocked an eyebrow and then tilted her head slowly.

Dammit.

“He is dating you. What’s the big deal with him hearing you talk about it with your sister? You’ve seen his penis. We are allowed to discuss it.” She rolled her eyes. “Actually, I think we are expected to do that. I’m sure he’s talked to his friends about your bubbies.”

I cursed under my breath.

She stared at me, inspecting my reaction.

I looked nervously in Aaron’s direction. Our gazes met. Those blue eyes, which always seemed to replace me, held mine for a long moment.

Jesus, did he hear that?

Shaking my head very lightly, I returned my gaze back to my sister.

“You know,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, “you only mentioned him a couple of times, so I was convinced it wasn’t that serious. But I’m not so sure of that anymore.”

“What do you mean?” My heart sped up as I feared what she might say.

We had barely had any time to act all snuggly and lovey-dovey or however a boyfriend and girlfriend were supposed to behave. All the Wedding Cup shenanigans had consumed all our time and energy.

“Well, for one, he’s here,” Isabel pointed out. “You bringing him home—to meet Mamá and Papá and basically the entire town—tells me that he’s not just anyone. There must be something special about him. You wouldn’t bring someone you were casually seeing or dating. Not even if they looked like him. You don’t trust people easily anymore.”

Stumbling over my own thoughts, I came to a stop.

Her words had smacked me right in the face. Emptying me of anything I could say.

Impostor. The accusation took shape in my head. How could it not when I was a big, fat liar?

Isabel took my silence as a sign to keep talking. “Then, there’s the way his eyes have been on you the whole time we’ve been here.”

Whoa, what?

“It’s been only, what? A couple of hours? And he’s still absorbed by you, watching and following every single move you make, as if you were pooping rainbows and leaving behind a trail of glitter. It would be disgusting if I wasn’t in love myself.” She patted my hand. “And trust me, sis, you all red and blotchy? Not that cute.”

My head whirled in Aaron’s direction again. He was chugging water from a bottle, not looking half as physically exerted as everybody else. Even after carrying Team Groom on his back along with Gonzalo. As I got lost in the way his arm stretched and his throat worked down the water, I wondered if my sister had imagined all that or if Aaron’s acting was that amazing. Maybe I hadn’t given him enough credit.

“Anyway,” she added as we finally reached the group, “you’ll have to catch me up on this and tell me all the dirty details. Don’t think that just because I haven’t drilled you for them, I don’t want them.” Isabel warned me with a look that told me she’d bug me until I broke under the pressure. “But until then, just keep doing whatever you are doing.” She winked. “Because, hermanita, he has it bad.”

A snort involuntarily escaped my lips. “Yeah, sure.”

Isabel quirked an eyebrow.

Oh shit. “Of course he has it bad, Isa.” I waved my hand. “He’s my boyfriend,” I tried to assure her, not sounding anywhere close to convincing.

So, I quickened my pace and left my big sister behind before I led her to uncover the whole farce. Thankfully, as soon as I reached the group, Gabi was already wielding her printed schedule and trying to gather everyone closer. In a perfect circle.

Rolling my eyes at that, I watched my cousin and Wedding Cup mastermind start shouting out orders in Spanish while we all tried to ignore how Gonzalo snagged my sister from behind and engulfed her in an embrace that included more than a fair share of inappropriate groping and fondling.

“Yikes,” I muttered under my breath. “That’s my sister.”

But at the same time, something squeezed in my chest. I realized that a small part of me observed the public display of affection with something that felt a lot like longing. And that compressing sensation bothered me; it awoke a very particular set of questions I had no answers to. All of them revolving around the same thing.

Would I ever replace what Gonzalo and Isabel had? Would I ever allow myself to?

Would I ever be so head over heels, crazy in love that everything else would fade to black noise?

My gaze searched for Aaron, not because I wanted him to emulate Gonzalo, but because maybe everyone else expected him to. Not spotting him anywhere in the less than perfect circle of people around Gabi, I grew a little concerned as she shot more and more instructions to the group. His head would roll if he didn’t get here ASAP.

A light touch on my arm grabbed my attention. Turning my head, I was welcomed by a pair of blue eyes that regarded me with something strange.

“Here you are,” I whispered loudly while Gabi kept going at it in the background. “I was scared for your well-being. Where did you go?”

“I’ve been right here the whole time.”

That strange quality was still there. But I brushed it away. I had no time to inspect whatever I’d thought I saw in Aaron’s eyes. Instead, I focused on how good he looked in his nylon shorts and short-sleeved henley.

“Are you having fun?” He offered me a bottle of water, pushing it gently in my direction.

“Oh, thank you.” I reached for it with both hands, managing to brush my palms along his fingers somehow. Sparks traveled all the way up my arms, making me retrieve my hands quickly and hold the bottle to my chest. “That was … sweet. Very boyfriend-like of you.” I looked up at him, replaceing him frowning. I didn’t give him the chance to complain. “And not too much fun, to be completely honest,” I admitted with a small pout. I had been serious when I told my sister that I was ready to call it a day. “Thank God we are about to be done here. Otherwise, I’d have to fake breaking a leg or a wrist.” I lowered my voice. “Or knocking off Gabi with something.”

“I hope we don’t get to that point.” The right side of his mouth tipped up. “What’s left then?”

“Well, Gabi saved the best for last.” I sighed. “Now comes the real competition.” I gestured with my hands, as if I were unveiling a huge surprise. “The star of the Wedding Cup: the soccer match.”

Aaron hummed, lost in thought for a short moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever played soccer.”

I perked up. “Never, ever?” I watched his head nod. A chance to win. “Like, not even once?”

“Not even once,” he answered. His mouth opened and then clamped down when Gabi hushed us in the distance.

Jesus, that woman needed to cool down. We straightened and faced away from each other.

Aaron lowered his voice, speaking from the side of his mouth, “You think that will be a problem? She seems … a little strict.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about her.” I waved my hand, keeping my eyes up front. “You, on the other hand? I’d worry about getting the hang of it in time.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I sensed Aaron glancing over at me quickly.

“And what happens if I don’t?”

My smile turned lopsided. “Then, Team Groom will lose. Miserably.”

I didn’t think that would happen, but Aaron had admitted to something he wasn’t amazing at. And that was new. I stole a quick glance in his direction; he had tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

“If you end up sucking at soccer and messing up, everybody will blame you. But it’s okay; you can’t be good at everything.”

He didn’t move or say anything.

“And you couldn’t be scared of dancing with the rest of the guys, right?” Another quick look allowed me to see the word challenge written all over his face. I snickered. “Oh, maybe you are. I didn’t peg you for a chicken, but it kinda looks good on you. Maybe I should call you pollito instead of osito.”

His head turned very slowly. My gaze remained on him as I helplessly forgot about Gabi.

“Did you just call me a chicken?” he said, the blue in his eyes flaring. “In two different languages?”

“Oh, you bet I did. I would be scared too. Our team is strong.” It wasn’t. “And just so you know, I make for a wonderful central defender.” I didn’t. “But maybe you don’t know what that means. It’s okay. Just know that some used to call me Ruthless Lina.” Not exactly true either.

Of all sports involving balls, soccer was probably the one I sucked at the least. Although if I had ever been called ruthless, it wasn’t because I excelled at playing the game, but because I ruthlessly ate the floor.

“Central defender, huh?”

I nodded. He didn’t need to know the truth.

Aaron dipped his head, his voice dropping too. “Are you trying to impress me with sports lingo, Catalina?”

The way he had said my name was new. I couldn’t explain how, but it had been different from any other time he had voiced those four syllables. And it sent a shiver dancing down my arms.

“It’s sexy, but don’t ever feel like you need to impress me. I already am.”

My lips parted. I thought my breath had hitched too. Sexy. Had he really said that out loud? My eyes searched his face for any trace of sarcasm or evidence that it had been a joke. But before I could replace anything, a commotion broke behind us.

Turning, I discovered the newcomer responsible for it. The moment I got a glimpse of the head of dark blond hair I knew—or had known—so well, a heavy weight dropped to the pit of my stomach.

My ex was here. Daniel. Or at least, an older version of the man I remembered. Back when we had dated, he could have been mistaken for a guy my age. But that had changed. In the time we had not seen each other, the way he looked had caught up with his age. And he had aged well. Time had treated him kindly. The Daniel who was striding in my direction was an attractive forty-year-old man, one who moved with the confidence only someone who walked in front of a class filled with college students every day would have.

Although he had always had that confidence, hadn’t he? Wasn’t that exactly what had led me to crush on my professor in the first place? It was during that very first lecture I attended. He walked in, cleared his throat, and flashed that dimple. It didn’t take more than that. I had been a goner.

A lame, pathetic goner, crushing on her Physics professor. Or so I had thought, but then, by some magical turn of events, he had reciprocated my attention. He did more than that. And I had believed we had something real. Something lasting, just how Gonzalo and Isabel did.

And then everything had blown up in my face. Not in our faces, no. Daniel had been spared the nightmare.

“Is that Daniel?” Aaron’s low and hushed question returned me back to the present.

I turned to him briefly, not replaceing my words so I just nodded.

My attention jumped back to where my ex—and the best man—was, and as I watched how he hugged and clapped his brother’s back, I felt Aaron stepping closer to me. I didn’t move. I was rooted to the floor.

Aaron closed some more of the distance between us, positioning himself to my side, right behind me. And I was shocked at the warmth that his body radiated on my back and how his side quashed some of the uneasiness. It reassured me. He did. And I didn’t understand how or why, but I didn’t have the time to pick that apart. Not with Daniel and everybody else there. So, I just held on to it.

I inhaled deeply and watched how the best man started the round of greeting everyone with kisses and hugs. Around the group he went, and I swore there was something suspended in the air as he did. As if every single person around me was holding their breath until the moment Daniel reached me.

Hating how the atmosphere seemed to thicken with every pair of eyes that turned to me, I reminded myself that I had already been expecting that kind of reaction. Everybody knew what had happened between Daniel and me. How ugly it got and how hard it was for me. And most had pitied me back then. I knew most of them did in this moment, and some always would.

Daniel took that one last step in my direction, causing a churning sensation to twist my stomach in knots.

“Lina.”

It had been ages since I had heard my name from Daniel’s mouth. It brought everything right back, the good moments we had shared—and there had been really amazing moments—all that joy that came hand in hand with a first love you foolishly thought was going to last forever, but also all the pain at having that turned into an ocean of hurt. Because, sure, Daniel had been the one to break my heart, but the real damage had been done by everybody else. By everyone who had learned of our relationship and tarnished it with stupid and poisonous rumors that—

No. Not the time to think of that.

Daniel placed a hand on my upper arm and planted a kiss on my cheek. If it hadn’t been for Aaron’s warm palm, which had somehow landed on the small of my back, I would have stumbled backward. That was how off guard that friendly kiss had caught me.

My gaze roamed around the group, confirming that every person present had their eyeballs turned on us.

Daniel seemed oblivious to all the gawking, smiling at me like we were old friends being reunited after years of not seeing each other. Which was the exact opposite of how I felt.

He looked me up and down. “Dios, Lina. Cuánto tiempo. Mírate. Estás—”

“Daniel,” I cut him off. “This is Aaron,” I blurted out, pulling away from him and nestling myself a step further into my fake boyfriend and personal human-sized shield.

Daniel’s furrowed eyebrows signaled his confusion. Probably because I had switched to English more than because I was introducing him to someone I was supposedly dating.

“Hi. I’m her boyfriend,” Aaron said politely, stretching his hand in front of him. “Su novio,” he clarified in Spanish for Daniel’s sake. Which was completely unnecessary and kind of cocky, and in some parallel reality, it would have pulled a snicker out of me. But my lips remained pressed into a tense line. “It’s nice to meet you, Daniel.”

My ex and sister’s fiancé’s best friend stared at Aaron for a brief moment and then broke into a wary but amiable smile. “Sí, claro. Nice to meet you, Aaron.” Daniel finally took Aaron’s hand and shook it. “I’m an old friend of Lina.”

Something pulled tight in my stomach at Daniel’s definition of what we had once been.

As soon as both men retrieved their arms, Daniel returned his attention to me, and Aaron’s palm returned to my back.

“How have you been, Lina? You look so … different.” Daniel’s smile widened. “Different, but good. You look amazing actually.”

His eyes kept assessing me, as if he couldn’t believe that it was me. And I wasn’t really sure how I felt about that, so I forced my lips to curl up.

“Thanks, Daniel. I have been fine, busy with work and … life.”

“That’s right.” My ex nodded his head. “You are living the life in New York City. I always knew you had the potential to do great things, to get very far in your career.”

He had been my professor for a whole year before we started properly dating, and during that time, I had been a highly motivated student. An overachiever. Things had changed after that.

“And you did.”

“Thanks,” I muttered. My mind filing away all kinds of complaints. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Aaron cleared his throat lightly. “It is,” he said softly. So much that I thought he had said it just for me. But then he kept going, “Lina leads a considerably large team of people in one of the most successful engineering consulting companies in New York. That is, by all standards, a big deal.”

“Wow.” Daniel smiled tightly. “That’s amazing, Lina. It is.” His lips turned somewhat more relaxed. “Congratulations.”

I muttered my thanks, still feeling flushed over Aaron’s words.

There was a long and awkward moment of silence, and then Daniel’s eyes bounced quickly between Aaron and me. “So, this is him, huh? The American boyfriend.”

My head reared back, shocked by Daniel’s word choice. With my shoulders tensing, my mouth opened with the intention of asking what that had been, but I felt Aaron’s hand trailing up my back, stopping at the nook between my shoulder and my neck. His thumb brushed the skin there very gently. That touch—that thumb caressing the side of my neck—almost made me forget about who was in front of me and what he had said or if he had talked at all. His finger swiped right and left one more time, making a shiver run down my spine.

Closing my eyes briefly, I pulled myself back into the conversation and decided to ignore Daniel’s last comment. “Congratulations on the engagement.” I made my lips tug up. “I’m very happy for you, Daniel.”

Daniel’s eyes, which had been somewhere where Aaron’s palm was, met mine. He nodded and flashed that dimple I had been so familiar with in the past. “Thank you, Lina. I’m extremely grateful she said yes. It’s not that easy to deal with me sometimes. I get lost in my head a lot when I’m working,” he said, slipping his hands in his pockets. “Well, no need to explain that to you. You know that already.”

Yes, I did. Everybody here knew I did too. He hadn’t needed to point that out. Not after downgrading our past to old friends.

My fake boyfriend’s palm spread and shifted down my shoulder, his fingers trailing down my arm and reaching my hand. It was so very distracting, the way he touched me. And yet, he managed to keep me grounded, all at once. Every time my head had threatened to roam away, Aaron had pulled me right back before my feet could lift off the floor. Those gentle brushes against my skin had that power, I realized. And judging by the way my voice came out when I spoke next—breathy, weak—they also came at a price.

“Well, I wish you two the best.” And despite myself, I meant that. “Will she be joining us today?”

Aaron’s fingers wrapped around mine, awakening in me something that urged me to turn around to look at him. I suppressed it, keeping my gaze on Daniel.

“Unfortunately, Marta won’t be able to make it. A last-minute work thing. She’s also a professor, and she was called to a conference to cover for a colleague.” Daniel shrugged his shoulders.

And I made a note to talk to my sister later. I was under the impression the bride would know if someone had canceled.

“It’s all good though.” Daniel’s eyes jumped to Aaron’s hand one more time, his expression distracted. “Attending a wedding alone is not all that dramatic. Plus, I wouldn’t want to make it about me.” My ex pinned me with a look.

And was that … accusation that I saw in his eyes?

“I …” I trailed off, second-guessing myself. My cheeks burned, and I couldn’t do much else but gape.

“Then, why waste more time talking about it?” Aaron managed to flatten his voice, about enough to sound bored. But I knew better. “I’m excited to see what comes next,” he surprised me by saying. Then, his fingers squeezed mine. “Lina was telling me that Gabi saved the best for last. Right, baby?”

He leaned and brushed his lips over my shoulder. Very softly. Impossibly lightly. But it made my body come alive.

“Right,” I breathed out. Urging the shock out of my expression.

God, I could still feel the imprint of his lips on my shoulder. The touch somehow spreading out across my skin.

“Oh, and what’s that?” Daniel asked. Or at least, I guessed he had because my mind was somewhere else.

Aaron kissed me. On my shoulder.

The temperature of my whole body had probably risen a couple—or ten—degrees.

It’s good. This is what couples do. They kiss each other. On multiple body parts. Like shoulders.

“The soccer match. We’ll be starting in a few minutes, I think,” I heard Aaron explain. “Lina has promised me to show me all her moves. I won’t lie; I’m equal parts intrigued and terrified.”

Trying to look the part, I leaned my head on Aaron’s chest. And I almost slipped to the floor when I felt him brush another kiss on my hair.

“Yeah.” I said, my breath getting stuck somewhere in my throat. “Ruthless Lina is about to make an appearance.”

Aaron chuckled, and I felt his chest vibrating under my temple. The hand that wasn’t holding mine came to rest on my hip, sending electrical shocks through all nerve endings in my body.

Breathe, Lina. He’s supposed to act like this.

I forced myself to remain still when, in reality, I wanted to do everything else but that. Like forgetting about Daniel and asking Aaron what in the world he was doing. Why had he kissed my shoulder? Or the top of my head? Could he please do that again just so I could check if my reaction had been a one-time occurrence or if that was the way my body reacted to his touch?

Daniel’s mouth opened and closed, as he was probably feeling uncomfortable at our display of affection.

Of fake affection, I reminded myself.

My ex and former professor looked up, someplace where Aaron’s head towered over mine. Something flashed across his face, too quickly for me to grasp its meaning. Then, he nodded and directed a small smile at me.

Not really understanding what had just gone down before the two men, I finally allowed myself to look up at Aaron.

And … nothing. Just one of his blank expressions in place.

Someone called Daniel’s name in the distance. My head fell just in time to watch my ex walk away, all the way to where Gonzalo was standing. He took his place beside his brother.

Still feeling the weird tension in the air, I drew a shallow breath.

Ugh, that had been really awkward. I felt like I wanted to shake myself, so I could get rid of the yucky sensation that stuck to my skin. But that would have ridden me of all the tingles I was still feeling too. That would also mean that I had to disentangle myself from Aaron’s arm and chest and body, and … I didn’t know if I wanted to do that.

You do, dumbass. This is not real.

And I needed to remember that before I did something really stupid.

If the chaos around me was anything to go by, I’d say we had a little situation in our hands.

“No me lo puedo creer,” my cousin cried in the middle of a less than perfect circle of people, throwing her arms in the air like the world was coming to an end. “No podemos jugar así. Se cancela todo. Esto un desastre. No, no, no, no.”

She grabbed a few of the T-shirts from the open box at her feet and hurled them at the floor.

Whoa.

“Esos malnacidos—”

“Cálmate, prima,” Isabel interrupted, telling her to calm down. “Qué importa. Son solo unas camisetas.”

Our cousin gasped and then hissed something really nasty at my sister, who barked right back at her.

Aaron leaned to his side and then lowered his voice. “What is going on? Should we run?”

I stifled a snicker. I didn’t want to anger Gabi any more. She was either about to cry or turn full-on She-Hulk, and no matter what, we’d have to deal with the fallout.

“There’s been a mix-up with the T-shirts for the soccer match.” I sighed. “Apparently, they sent the ones for the Team Groom in the smallest size instead of the largest.”

“Can’t we play with what we are wearing?” the poor soul that was my fake boyfriend asked.

Gabi’s head spun toward us. “Qué ha dicho?” she screeched.

“Nada.” I held my hands in the air. Then, I turned to Aaron. “Keep your voice down. Didn’t you see how she got when my cousin Matías asked why she hadn’t thought of handing out the shirts earlier today? Or when Adrián said it would have been smart to double check the sizes before today?”

Aaron’s lips pursed.

“Exactly. Good thing my sister intercepted her before she got to them. They are tough guys but it would have been a carnage either way.” I shook my head. “You are tough too, but I need you in one piece, okay?” I stopped myself, realizing what I had said. “We are expected to dance at the wedding.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Aaron said from my side. “I can survive your cousin. I could put us both into safety too. Just say the word.”

I averted my eyes and glanced in Gabi’s direction. A red-faced Isabel was trying to jerk the box out of Gabi’s grip. And my cousin was tugging at it quite … violently, if I had to pick a word.

My sister yelped, and then she stepped back and brought both hands to her head. “No, no, no, no.” She walked to the center of the circle, waving her hands in the air. “We will play the soccer match. That’s it,” she announced and then turned to Gabi. “I am the bride, and you guys are obligated to do as I say.”

I snorted at that, which earned me an extremely threatening glance from my sister. I stiffened.

Jesus, this wedding would be the end of all of us.

My sister turned to our cousin. “Gabi, no es el fin del mundo.” It’s not the end of the world, she told our cousin. “You”—she turned to me again—“for my next wedding, we are sipping margaritas.”

I bit back a laugh, but yep, I wholeheartedly agreed.

“All right. It’s summer, the sun is shining, and I just had the best idea.” She paused dramatically, looking around the circle of people. “Team Groom will play … shirtless!” Her arms rose in the air.

Nobody spoke.

“Come on, gentlemen.” Isabel’s tone hardened. “It’s always the ladies undressing and showing some skin. This time is up to you to show off those wedding bodies.”

More silence.

Isabel glanced at her groom, who, just like everybody else, was still chewing on her suggestion.

She widened her eyes and swirled her finger in the air, instructing Gonzalo to snap out of it. “Do something!”

My future brother-in-law perked up. “Ah!” The groom shed his shirt, revealing his chest in all his dark-haired glory. He threw his arms up. “Well said, cariño!” he roared. “Come on, gentlemen. Shirts off.”

My sister rewarded his fiancé with a holler and some enthusiastic clapping.

Daniel, as the best man, took off his shirt next. Almost reluctantly, from the way he shook his head. My gaze involuntarily took him in. It wasn’t a shock, seeing how, despite not being anywhere close to being buff—which he had never been—he was still in really good shape. And yet … I felt nothing. No stirring anywhere in my body.

The group’s amusement grew as more of Team Groom’s members followed Gonzalo’s and Daniel’s lead. Well, nobody present was really complaining, probably fearing my sister’s reaction, who, at this point, was cheering at every newfound shirtless male. Even Gabi’s frustration at losing her grip of the group’s control decreased as the atmosphere turned lighter.

That was, until Daniel opened his mouth and brought down the fun atmosphere.

“What about you, American boy?” Daniel pointed at the still fully clothed man standing beside me. “Are you sitting this one out?”

American boy.

My eyes widened. He had just called my boyfriend—fake boyfriend, I corrected myself.

Had my ex just called my fake boyfriend a boy?

Sure, Daniel was about eight or nine years older than Aaron. But calling him a boy?

My head swiveled in Aaron’s direction.

Just in time to see his reaction. His jaw relaxed, the start of a … smile playing on his lips.

Then, he didn’t hesitate. Calmly—scarily so—my fake boyfriend leveled Daniel with a look that would make anybody run for the hills. The look that had earned him his reputation back at work. It was the one he brandished as a warning sign. And it meant trouble. Serious business.

Holding my breath, I watched Aaron’s fingers reach for the hem of his shirt.

Oh my God, he’s gonna do it. My fake boyfriend and future boss is undressing before my eyes.

He pulled it up, and in one swift motion—worthy of one of those perfume ads where everything, except the compelling and otherworldly model in the frame, blurred into the background—Aaron peeled off his shirt.

I blinked.

Madre de Dios.

Aaron was … he was …

Fuck.

He was … gorgeous—no, he was more than just that.

Aaron was a freaking sight to behold.

And his unbelievable, out-of-this-world, ad-worthy upper body was so flawless that it made me want to weep.

I was a shallow, shallow woman. But I couldn’t care.

As my gaze gobbled Aaron in all his shirtlessness, I felt the air being punched out of my lungs. I’d thought I had always been impressed—almost fascinated, if I was being completely honest—by his height and size. But if there was something more impressive, more fascinating than that, it was his height and size decked with hard muscles of all sorts and types.

Jesus Christ. Were his abs sculpted in stone?

My stupid, hungry eyes traveled from his broad shoulders to his chiseled chest and then kept going down, taking in slabs of abs that my imagination would never have been able to fabricate in such perfection. And how his strong arms looked bare, corded with powerful muscles? I would never have been able to imagine that either. Frankly, I almost wanted to poke the man to check if it was all real.

Those boring dress shirts did him no justice. That casual outfit he had worn to the flight hadn’t either. Not even the tux he had worn to the fundraiser did his body any justice.

He was … too … beautiful.

Yeah, I was ogling at that point, and I didn’t really give a damn. Not this time. This was a historical moment. I had a flawless, shirtless Aaron standing in front of me, probably for the first and only time ever. And I wanted to commit this image to memory. Even if it haunted me for the rest of my life, I’d live with it.

Loud cheering and clapping broke through the vacuum I had been sucked in. Blinking, I realized Aaron’s eyes were on me. Our gazes met. There was something intent and hungry behind that deep ocean blue. Something barely controlled. That, or I was seeing my own emotions reflected and looking back at me.

Cheeks flushed, I was completely and utterly unprepared for what the half-naked man in front of me did next. Aaron’s eyes twinkled under the Spanish sun, one corner of his lips curled, gifting me with a full-fledged smirk, and then he winked.

A single, quick, playful wink.

That was all it took for my insides to melt into a puddle. Brain, chest, lower belly, and everything in between liquefied and gathered at my feet.

Nope. I hadn’t been unprepared for that. I had been completely defenseless.

Aaron crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking somewhat satisfied, and returned his gaze ahead, to where Team Groom was gathering to start the soccer match, as if he hadn’t just made parts of my body dissolve into a goo I didn’t know what to do with.

That flawless, shirtless, blue-eyed bastard. Throwing me off-balance like that.

I had been so caught up in all that, that I hadn’t noticed Daniel’s apprehensive gaze. It bounced a couple of times between Aaron and me before finally settling on the man he thought I was dating. Not for long though. A moment after that, Daniel turned, clapped Gonzalo’s back, and started toward the improvised soccer field.

Before joining the rest of the guys, Aaron stepped into me, stopping only when the point of our sneakers touched. He leaned in, his mouth dangerously close to my ear, as if he were about to tell me a secret just meant for me.

My throat bobbed.

“What do you think?” he asked, his words tickling the shell of my ear.

“You are … okay,” I mumbled like a total idiot.

I heard his chuckle. “Thank you, I think. But I wasn’t asking about that.”

Oh.

“I’ll take the compliment though. For now.”

“What-what did you mean then?”

“I think that so far, we are doing a good job. What do you think?”

Oh, so he meant that. The charade, of course. Yes, that made more sense.

I nodded my head.

“We make a good team, Catalina.” And there it was, my name again. Voiced in that way that was all … new.

I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the fact that my face was about a palm from his flawless and bare pectoral. “We do,” I murmured.

Aaron lowered his voice. “I had no idea we would walk into that.” He cocked his head. “Caught me off guard, but it’s okay. I’m starting to understand.”

Confusion swirled in me. There was nothing to understand. Granted, there was a part I hadn’t told Aaron—which wasn’t the smartest way to go about it—but that remained in the past. It didn’t affect our goal here.

“Just keep doing what you are doing,” I told him, swallowing the lump stuck in my throat. “Focus on pretending you are crazy about me, all right?”

I heard him hum; it was a low and short-lived sound, but it was enough to make me step back, so I could look at his face. His eyes held that determined edge I knew so well.

“Trust me, I am focusing on only that.”

Before I could say anything else, Aaron started jogging back. “And remember,” he called in the distance, “all is fair in love and war, bollito.”

Almost everybody around turned their eyes on me. My gaze met my sister’s, and she was grinning so widely that I was scared her mouth would inevitably hurt on her wedding day.

Reluctantly, I smiled back at all the onlookers, pretending I was cool and chill and not trying to gather my wits. “Oh, he’s so silly,” I told them. “No need to remind me, cosita mía!” I called back to Aaron.

But Aaron had already shot up, running after the rest of his team. Leaving me standing there, watching how all the polished muscles on his back danced with each of his strides and wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean.

My eyes narrowed.

“All is fair in love and war.”

It was in a way, I guessed. What I had trouble making sense of was, how did that apply when love was fake, and adversaries were left no choice but to join forces?