café counter. “I think this would be a great experience for him as well.”
“Darius?” Peyton’s eyes stretched wide as she, too, turned to look at the reporter. “I don’t know if recruiting him would be such a great idea. He’s going to think you’re playing matchmaker again.”
“I know.” Ramona sighed. “He’s so paranoid. I think it’s the investigative reporter in him.”
“Is he right?”
Ramona held Peyton’s gaze. “What if he is?”
Peyton was both amused and incredulous. “Then I think you and your friends are going to be very frustrated. Darius isn’t interested in me.”
Why does that thought depress me?
Ramona gave her a secret smile. “What if you’re wrong?”
CHAPTER 5
Alonzo’s doorbell rang just before seven o’clock Sunday evening. The sound reverberated in his chest, causing his heart to skip a beat and his thoughts to scatter. Doreen . The time had finally come: November second, the Day of the Dead.
Hosting this celebration for Doreen and their friends was one of the most important things he’d ever done in his life. What if it backfired? Alonzo wiped his damp palms on the seams of his black denim pants, then crossed to his front door. He took a moment to gather himself before pulling it open. Doreen stood on the other side. She took his breath away. She always did. Her smile made his head spin and his body warm.
“I’m glad you came.” Alonzo offered her his hand and helped her across the threshold.
“So am I.” Her voice was warm but a little tentative, as though she wasn’t completely confident of being here.
Alonzo drew her to him to greet her with a kiss. Her coat was cool against his jersey and pants. He drew her closer to share his body heat, then lowered his head to hers. Her lips were soft and sweet, her body yielding in his embrace. Her mouth parted, allowing his tongue to steal inside. Her slender arms slipped over his chest to twine around his neck. Alonzo’s body heated.
With a groan of regret, he stepped back. “You make me lose track of time.”
Doreen opened her eyes and found his gaze. A sexy smile curved her lips. “You say that as though it’s a bad thing.”
“It could be awkward when our guests arrive.” Alonzo took her hand and led her farther into his house.
His modest furnishings were a sharp contrast to her bright and cheerful home. Doreen had teased him repeatedly about his lack of decorating vision. He thought he’d been practical, but she was right. His living room’s dark brown recliner, sofa, and area rug lacked the warmth of Doreen’s pink-and-white furnishings.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Doreen’s attention settled on Alonzo’s dining room table.
“That’s the altar for our Day of the Dead ceremony.” He studied his creation. How would she view it?
He’d spread a gold cloth over the mahogany table. On the center of the table, he’d stacked a purple box on top of a larger red box. He’d arranged glasses of water around the table and lit white votive candles in glass holders. He’d scattered gold, pink, and white marigold petals across the table and over the stacked boxes. A cross stood on one side. The scents of fresh flowers and incense filled the room.
“It’s lovely.” Doreen’s voice was almost reverent.
“Thank you.” He kissed the back of her hand before releasing her.
“Is there anything left to do?” She dragged her gaze from the altar.
“No, thanks. We can wait for the others to join us. I’ve got everything covered.”
He hoped. He had a lot riding on the success of this event. What if Doreen didn’t understand what he was trying to do? What if she misjudged him?
“I’m a little nervous.” Doreen’s laughter was self-conscious. “But I’m looking forward to this ceremony.”
“There’s no reason to be nervous, mi amor. This ritual is meant to invoke happy memories only. And to make the dead feel welcome and loved.” Then why did he feel anxious?
Alonzo
“Darius?” Peyton’s eyes stretched wide as she, too, turned to look at the reporter. “I don’t know if recruiting him would be such a great idea. He’s going to think you’re playing matchmaker again.”
“I know.” Ramona sighed. “He’s so paranoid. I think it’s the investigative reporter in him.”
“Is he right?”
Ramona held Peyton’s gaze. “What if he is?”
Peyton was both amused and incredulous. “Then I think you and your friends are going to be very frustrated. Darius isn’t interested in me.”
Why does that thought depress me?
Ramona gave her a secret smile. “What if you’re wrong?”
CHAPTER 5
Alonzo’s doorbell rang just before seven o’clock Sunday evening. The sound reverberated in his chest, causing his heart to skip a beat and his thoughts to scatter. Doreen . The time had finally come: November second, the Day of the Dead.
Hosting this celebration for Doreen and their friends was one of the most important things he’d ever done in his life. What if it backfired? Alonzo wiped his damp palms on the seams of his black denim pants, then crossed to his front door. He took a moment to gather himself before pulling it open. Doreen stood on the other side. She took his breath away. She always did. Her smile made his head spin and his body warm.
“I’m glad you came.” Alonzo offered her his hand and helped her across the threshold.
“So am I.” Her voice was warm but a little tentative, as though she wasn’t completely confident of being here.
Alonzo drew her to him to greet her with a kiss. Her coat was cool against his jersey and pants. He drew her closer to share his body heat, then lowered his head to hers. Her lips were soft and sweet, her body yielding in his embrace. Her mouth parted, allowing his tongue to steal inside. Her slender arms slipped over his chest to twine around his neck. Alonzo’s body heated.
With a groan of regret, he stepped back. “You make me lose track of time.”
Doreen opened her eyes and found his gaze. A sexy smile curved her lips. “You say that as though it’s a bad thing.”
“It could be awkward when our guests arrive.” Alonzo took her hand and led her farther into his house.
His modest furnishings were a sharp contrast to her bright and cheerful home. Doreen had teased him repeatedly about his lack of decorating vision. He thought he’d been practical, but she was right. His living room’s dark brown recliner, sofa, and area rug lacked the warmth of Doreen’s pink-and-white furnishings.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Doreen’s attention settled on Alonzo’s dining room table.
“That’s the altar for our Day of the Dead ceremony.” He studied his creation. How would she view it?
He’d spread a gold cloth over the mahogany table. On the center of the table, he’d stacked a purple box on top of a larger red box. He’d arranged glasses of water around the table and lit white votive candles in glass holders. He’d scattered gold, pink, and white marigold petals across the table and over the stacked boxes. A cross stood on one side. The scents of fresh flowers and incense filled the room.
“It’s lovely.” Doreen’s voice was almost reverent.
“Thank you.” He kissed the back of her hand before releasing her.
“Is there anything left to do?” She dragged her gaze from the altar.
“No, thanks. We can wait for the others to join us. I’ve got everything covered.”
He hoped. He had a lot riding on the success of this event. What if Doreen didn’t understand what he was trying to do? What if she misjudged him?
“I’m a little nervous.” Doreen’s laughter was self-conscious. “But I’m looking forward to this ceremony.”
“There’s no reason to be nervous, mi amor. This ritual is meant to invoke happy memories only. And to make the dead feel welcome and loved.” Then why did he feel anxious?
Alonzo
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