the dirty dishes, and she rinsed them. But when she opened the dishwasher, she saw the appliance was already full.
âIâll have to empty this first. I guess Cáco didnât have time to do it earlier.â
âNo problem. I can help.â
He put away silverware and she went for odds and ends: a mixing bowl, a glass pitcher, two mismatched serving plates.
As Lourdes stood on her toes and attempted to open the cupboard above the stove, Juan came up behind her.
âLet me do that. You can barely reach it.â
âNo, itâs okay. I canââ
He leaned into her, and suddenly she couldnât talk. Couldnât breathe. Couldnât think.
His fly brushed against her rear.
Juan froze, and Lourdes remained on her toes, poised like a plastic ballerina in a jewelry box, waiting for someone to turn the key.
To play a song. To make her dance.
He breathed against her ear, and her nipples went hard, almost as hard as the ridge beneath his zipper.
Neither said a word. They didnât dare.
Obviously he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
Finally he backed away, leaving her wobbling on her toes.
Now what?
Should she turn around? Act casual?
She steadied herself on her feet and faced him.
In the silence, they gazed at each other.
Will you lie down with me? Will you kiss me?
Yes, she thought. Yes.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, and she crossed her arms, pressing them against her breasts, shielding her distended nipples.
âWe better finish cleaning the kitchen,â he said.
She nodded, then moistened her lips and tasted her own saliva.
Maybe it was safer that he was moving into the bunkhouse.
Much, much safer.
Â
The twins padded the floor with a blanket and decided Juan had to lie directly in front of the TV with them, their faces practically pressed to the screen. Both girls wore pink pajamas, and their pigtails had been combed out, leaving waves in their hair. They smelled like buttered popcorn and apple-scented soap.
As the animated feature started, they snuggled closer, making him feel sort of dadlike.
Lourdes took a spot on the couch, and Juan glanced back at her. Sheâd probably seen the movie at least a hundred times, but she had her legs curled under her, ready to watch it again.
She smiled at him, and at that quiet, cozy moment, they seemed like a family.
But they werenât, he reminded himself. He was only a guest in their home.
He focused on the movie, on a romantic adventure with a redheaded mermaid and songs and dialogue the girls knew by heart.
Nina insisted on telling him everything before it happened, and Paige swooned over the dark-haired prince and shuddered every time the sea witch appeared.
It was a fairy tale on land and sea, a story Lourdesâs little girls couldnât resist.
Juan suspected the movie ended with a happily ever after kiss, but he didnât get the opportunity to find out. Nina and Paige fell asleep before the love-and-marriage finale.
He figured it was just as well. He didnât need to get sappy over a cartoon.
He turned and looked at Lourdes. âI can help you get the girls into bed.â
âThank you.â She rose and knelt to pick up Nina, leaving Paige in his care. The child stirred in his arms, but didnât waken. Nina flopped her head over her momâs shoulder, grinned groggily at Juan and went back to sleep.
That family notion came back, but this time he let it linger.
The twinsâ room was as pink as their pajamas, with chenille bedspreads and Barbie dolls in every corner. He saw a few Ken dolls lying around, too.
Suddenly he got a familiar feeling.
Over Barbie and Ken?
That didnât make a whole hell of a lot of sense. Unlessâ
Unless what? There had been a young girl in his life? A daughter?
No way. He knew he didnât have kids. What about a little sister?
Yes, he thought. A sister.
Still balancing Paige, he pulled back the covers and placed her in bed,
âIâll have to empty this first. I guess Cáco didnât have time to do it earlier.â
âNo problem. I can help.â
He put away silverware and she went for odds and ends: a mixing bowl, a glass pitcher, two mismatched serving plates.
As Lourdes stood on her toes and attempted to open the cupboard above the stove, Juan came up behind her.
âLet me do that. You can barely reach it.â
âNo, itâs okay. I canââ
He leaned into her, and suddenly she couldnât talk. Couldnât breathe. Couldnât think.
His fly brushed against her rear.
Juan froze, and Lourdes remained on her toes, poised like a plastic ballerina in a jewelry box, waiting for someone to turn the key.
To play a song. To make her dance.
He breathed against her ear, and her nipples went hard, almost as hard as the ridge beneath his zipper.
Neither said a word. They didnât dare.
Obviously he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
Finally he backed away, leaving her wobbling on her toes.
Now what?
Should she turn around? Act casual?
She steadied herself on her feet and faced him.
In the silence, they gazed at each other.
Will you lie down with me? Will you kiss me?
Yes, she thought. Yes.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, and she crossed her arms, pressing them against her breasts, shielding her distended nipples.
âWe better finish cleaning the kitchen,â he said.
She nodded, then moistened her lips and tasted her own saliva.
Maybe it was safer that he was moving into the bunkhouse.
Much, much safer.
Â
The twins padded the floor with a blanket and decided Juan had to lie directly in front of the TV with them, their faces practically pressed to the screen. Both girls wore pink pajamas, and their pigtails had been combed out, leaving waves in their hair. They smelled like buttered popcorn and apple-scented soap.
As the animated feature started, they snuggled closer, making him feel sort of dadlike.
Lourdes took a spot on the couch, and Juan glanced back at her. Sheâd probably seen the movie at least a hundred times, but she had her legs curled under her, ready to watch it again.
She smiled at him, and at that quiet, cozy moment, they seemed like a family.
But they werenât, he reminded himself. He was only a guest in their home.
He focused on the movie, on a romantic adventure with a redheaded mermaid and songs and dialogue the girls knew by heart.
Nina insisted on telling him everything before it happened, and Paige swooned over the dark-haired prince and shuddered every time the sea witch appeared.
It was a fairy tale on land and sea, a story Lourdesâs little girls couldnât resist.
Juan suspected the movie ended with a happily ever after kiss, but he didnât get the opportunity to find out. Nina and Paige fell asleep before the love-and-marriage finale.
He figured it was just as well. He didnât need to get sappy over a cartoon.
He turned and looked at Lourdes. âI can help you get the girls into bed.â
âThank you.â She rose and knelt to pick up Nina, leaving Paige in his care. The child stirred in his arms, but didnât waken. Nina flopped her head over her momâs shoulder, grinned groggily at Juan and went back to sleep.
That family notion came back, but this time he let it linger.
The twinsâ room was as pink as their pajamas, with chenille bedspreads and Barbie dolls in every corner. He saw a few Ken dolls lying around, too.
Suddenly he got a familiar feeling.
Over Barbie and Ken?
That didnât make a whole hell of a lot of sense. Unlessâ
Unless what? There had been a young girl in his life? A daughter?
No way. He knew he didnât have kids. What about a little sister?
Yes, he thought. A sister.
Still balancing Paige, he pulled back the covers and placed her in bed,
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