Authors: Elizabeth Reyes
Romero (6 page)
“Is that your first shot ever, Narc?”
“My name is Isabel.”
He smirked. “Too long. But all right, is that your first shot,
Izzy
?”
It was better than Narc, and it wasn’t the first time she’d been called that, so she didn’t protest, staring at him as she sucked on a lime. “No, it’s not.”
His golden brown eyes seemed to sparkle in amusement as he poured more shots. The crowd that was there when they arrived had dispersed. Just Isabel and Valerie—who stood right behind her, talking to Alex—were the only ones still there, leaving Romero to scrutinize only her. She pushed her glasses up, trying not to stare at his impressive forearms as he poured the shots. “Take another one.”
Isabel stared at the shots in front of him—one for him—one for her. “I’m driving.” She lifted her chin.
“It’s early. You’ll be fine.” He took his shot and smiled at her.
She turned, hoping Valerie could get her out of this but both she and Alex were gone. Really? Already? After all they’d gone over on there way there? She hadn’t even noticed them walk away. Her shoulders slumped and she took the shot, immediately sucking on a lime. Romero grinned from ear to ear. “You see? And you were fighting it.”
“That’s my last one.” Her voice was a rasp. “I mean it.” She’d never understand why people enjoyed doing shots.
Romero set the bottle aside and leaned his elbows onto the bar. “So how come I’ve never met you? You and Valerie been friends long?”
Unlike most guys who tried being discreet, he did nothing to hide the fact he was taking her in,
completely
. She felt utterly invaded, the way his eyes went from her hair to her cleavage. They even spent some time on her hands. She tried hiding her unease with his bald-faced demeanor. “Years, we met in college.”
“College girl, uh? What are you doing now?”
Isabel still felt the burn in her throat from the two shots. “I’m a teacher. And you?”
She was used to limited eye contact when first meeting someone. Not Romero. He seemed to seek her eyes out, and then smile confidently. “I should’ve known.”
“What does that mean?” She’d heard this before. Even with her mom being a teacher, she knew most people’s image of a teacher—straight-laced, unattractive, mousy women, usually with a ridiculous bun in their hair.
“I’m just sayin’.”
“You’re saying what?” She lifted her eyebrow.
It was annoying the way every one of her statements or questions seemed to amuse him. “You
look
like a teacher.”
She felt herself warm inside. “And what exactly does a teacher look like?”
The corner of his mouth lifted as he blatantly looked her over again. “Sweet…and sexy, apparently.”
She felt the heat rush to her face and Romero smiled even bigger. “Did I embarrass you?”
“No,” she said too quickly. “You didn’t answer my question. What do
you
do?”
“I just started my own business this year.” He poured another shot and lifted it to her.
She shook her head.
Not even one more
. “What kind of business?”
He didn’t even bother with a lime after downing the shot he poured. “I’m in the security business.”
Of course
. “Like a bodyguard?”
“Somethin’ like that.” Isabel studied his stubborn jaw and the way he’d smirk at everyone he glanced at, like he had some kind of inside joke going with each one. She wondered if
she
was the joke. Here was this tough looking bodyguard, or whatever he was having some fun with the nervous schoolteacher at the bar. She was glad now that Valerie had convinced her to wear her hair down. Well, half down. The front was still up in a barrette, but she let the back hang loose.
Angel came by looking for something behind the bar.
“What do you need?” Romero asked.
“Water.” He bent down still searching. “Didn’t you bring bottled waters out here?”
Romero shook his head. “I’m in charge of the booze, son. Fuck the water.”
Angel frowned, shaking his head. “Useless.”
“Take a shot, Angel. You need to relax.”
Angel barely glanced at him and stalked away.
“So you’re in charge of getting everyone drunk?” Isabel noticed ever since her last shot, Romero’s eyes kept making their way back to one place, especially when she spoke—her lips. It unnerved her. Had he no tact at all?
“Yep, you ready for another?” He reached for the bottle.
“No. I’m not having anymore.”
“Sure you will.”
He was so damn sure of himself. “No, I
won’t
.”
“You will,” he said, looking up behind her with a smile. “Ready for another one, big guy?”
Angel and Alex walked up to the bar. Angel had a box of bottled waters and Alex held a box of some other kind of bottled beverage. Isabel glanced around but didn’t see Valerie. “Where did Valerie go?”
Then she saw it. Alex looked visibly shaken. He wasn’t the same Alex as when they’d walked in.
Great.
Something happened already. “I’m out.” He said, his jaw tight.
“What?” both Angel and Romero said almost at the same time.
“I gotta go to the restaurant. I’ll be back.” He walked away without even glancing at Isabel.
“That guy works too much,” Romero said.
Isabel searched around the backyard. She hadn’t even noticed how many more people had arrived. Every table in the big backyard was just about full and there were many people still standing. Then she spotted Valerie. She stood at the opening of the canopy that covered the entire backyard. Something was definitely wrong. She slipped off the bar stool, grabbing her purse.
“Where you going?” Romero asked.
“To see about Valerie.”
“Bring her over here.”
Isabel pressed her lips together as she hurried to Valerie. Yeah, that’s exactly what Valerie needs—to get drunk and stupid, just in time for when Alex got back.
***
“Will you move?” Romero made way for Angel to finish dumping the bottled waters into the ice chest next to the bar. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Isabel. His first impression of her when he saw her walk up to the bar, he knew she’d be uptight. He was right—definitively not his type, if he even
had
a type. But he knew for sure uptight schoolteachers weren’t it—or at least he knew
he
wasn’t
their
type.
He just hadn’t expected her to be fun. He’d never met someone whose facial expressions did so much telling. From the moment he called her
narc
, he noticed it. Everything he said or did, her face had so much to say about it. From the way her eyebrows pinched in, to the way her eyes opened wide at some of his comments. And her lips were something else. The way she pressed them together suddenly, then fell open in the next instant. He’d also never seen anyone blush so instantaneously. Her face turned beet red in a blink of an eye. It was highly entertaining.
“Don’t even.”
Romero turned to look at Angel, who glanced at Isabel, then back at him. “What?”
“Sarah said she’s a brain—not for you.”
“What? You don’t think I’ve banged a few brains in my time?” He tried not to show how annoyed Angel’s comment made him.
“Easy,” Eric said, as he walked up to the bar.
Romero glanced at Eric then glared back at Angel. Angel laughed. “Trust me, she’s not your type. She’s got some class. Don’t go embarrassing her either. Sarah said she’s shy.”
Romero shook off Angel’s comments when he saw Isabel was on her way back to the bar without Valerie, and smirked. “Too late.”
Both Angel and Eric followed Romero’s wicked smile. “Be cool,” Angel warned.
“Always,” Romero said, pouring himself a beer from the keg.
Angel walked away holding several bottles of water in his hands. Eric asked for a cup and Romero handed it to him. Isabel seemed down when she reached the bar. “Where’s Valerie?”
Isabel took a seat at the bar. “She went to the ladies’ room.”
“You mean restroom.”
Her eyebrows pinched. “What’s the difference?”
“We’re at someone’s house, not a public place. So there is no ladies’ or mens’ room.”
She pushed her glasses up, frowning. He stared at the design on her French tip nails that he noticed earlier. He reached for her hand, and found it was soft, just as he expected. She flinched at his touch but didn’t take her hand back. He pulled her hand gently to him for a closer look. This close, he saw it was the letter M in calligraphy. He glanced up at her but didn’t ask. It obviously didn’t stand for Isabel. He let her hand go and she glanced around, not offering an explanation.
“You wanna beer?”
Her lips twitched slightly. “You have wine?”
There was another ice chest off to the side, with some wine bottles chilling. He’d never been into wine, or into chicks who drank wine. He glanced back at her as he pulled two bottles of wine out. White and pink—was the only distinction he saw. She asked for the blush, which he assumed to be the pink, and poured her a glass.
He noticed the keychain that hung out of her purse with the San Diego Padres emblem. “So you’re a fan?” He gestured to the keychain after placing the cup of wine in front of her.
She frowned. “I was, but after the year they had last year… I dunno. The Diamond Backs are starting to look good.”
“What?” Romero stared at her in disbelief, loving the way her startled eyes opened wide. “You don’t just turn your back on your team when they have a bad year.”
“
One
? They’ve had like three or four in a row.” She sipped her wine.
Romero shook his head adamantly. “You from the San Diego area originally?”
“Laguna. I moved to La Jolla after college.”
“Close enough. Number one rule for a true sports fan. You’re born to your team. Choice was never an option. And even if you move away, that’s your team forever. You carry the keychain around daily. You should know that.”
Isabel laughed and he finally got to see what her face looked like lit up. All her cute expressions had slowly given away that she wasn’t as uptight as he initially thought—now that sweet smile that brightened her entire face was another tell-tale sign. He gulped hard. She was something else.
“No, I didn’t know that. Thanks for enlightening me.” They talked for a while longer about The Padres. Then he asked a few random questions about where she got her nails done and they made small talk about the horrible parking at the mall, but after seeing her bring the tip of her thumb to her mouth for the second time, the M on her finger stared at him. He finally asked something that actually interested him. “So who’s the M for?”
Her eyes did the asking.
“The M on your nail.” Romero handed her a second glass of wine.
“Wow, this is a lot,” she said, taking the cup. “Maybe I can pour half of it in another cup for Valerie.”
He watched her take a sip and he waited, taking a swig of his beer. She glanced around, looking antsy.
“Izzy?”
She looked back at him. Again she didn’t even have to speak, her eyes expressed her confusion.
He couldn’t help smiling. “The M on your nail. Who’s it for?”
She brought her hands up to look at her nails again. “Oh, my name.”
“Your name’s Isabel.”
“My last name is Montenegro.”
Romero took a big satisfying drink of his beer then said, “Ms. Montenegro. Is that what your students call you?”
She nodded. “Romero is your last name, right?”
“Yep.”
“So how come you don’t go by your first name?”
He shrugged. “Never have.”
“Why?”
“Long story. I just don’t.” He turned away from her questioning eyes. “You sure Valerie didn’t leave?”
“No, I’m driving. She didn’t bring her car,” she sighed. “But she
is
taking long. I hope she’s okay.”
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
She seemed apprehensive but finally said, “I think she was upset about something she and Alex talked about.”
“Ah,” Romero nodded, remembering all the drama those two had gone through over the years. “The never-ending booty call.”
“Is that what he calls it?”
“No.” He smirked at her murderous glare. “It’s what
I
call it. Those two have been going back and forth forever. They should just get it together or get it over with.”
“Well it’s been over with for a year now.”
“Hmm,” he chuckled, bringing his cup to his mouth.
“It
has
been,” she insisted.
“So why is she still getting upset about something he says?”
Her lips pressed shut. Romero couldn’t help feeling smug as she glanced away. Then her expression changed—softened. “That must be Sal.”
