She smiled at me and fuck, the urge to keep her smiling tugged at me.
Reina loaded her fork up with spaghetti and opened her mouth wide, closing her full lips around her fork, giving me a glimpse of the playful side of her. My dick strained against my jeans as the sweetest moan escaped her lips.
“Really?” Lacey asked, taking a bite herself to see what all the fuss was about. “It is pretty good.”
“I don’t cook much but I’d love the recipe,” Reina added, finishing her beer.
“It’s pretty simple,” Lacey said, lifting her coke to take a sip. “How come you don’t cook?”
Reina shrugged her shoulders. “It’s just me, by myself,” she replied, moving the food around in her dish before reaching for my beer, claiming it as her own. “I guess I don’t see the point in making a mess for just one person.”
“Funny, he says the same thing every time I badger him about cooking for himself,” Lacey said, throwing me a look.
“She worries about her old man,” I remarked, nodding toward my beer. “Want another or are you good with that?”
Reina’s cheeks reddened as she sipped my beer, lowering it slightly so I could watch her lips move in their reply.
“I’ll have another, please.”
“So polite,” I mused, deciding I really wanted to strip her of her politeness, fantasizing of all the dirty things I could get her to say.
I pulled my shirt over the erection bulging against my jeans and hoped I hid my shit from Lacey as I stood to grab us a couple of beers.
By the time I had returned, Lacey and Reina were in deep conversation. I paused in the doorway and listened, marveling how my daughter got more information out of Reina in the time it took me to grab a beer than I managed in six weeks.
“No family,” Reina stated. “I never met my father, I’m not even sure my mother knew who my father was. She was young when she had me, only sixteen, but she was a wild child, kept my grandparents on their toes until she broke their hearts.”
“How’d she break their hearts?”
“She overdosed. I was five when she died and my grandparents raised me,” Reina revealed, her voice barely a whisper.
“I’m sorry, Reina,” Lacey said.
“Nothing to be sorry about, Lacey. Anyway, my grandparents were wonderful, really great people who wanted the best for me. I think they saw me as a second chance at getting it right and tried to right the wrongs of my mother. They were big on school and pushed me to go to college. I graduated with an associate degree, and we all know that’s not worth much but to my grandma? Forget it! She thought I was on my way to being the first female president. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it was as worthless as toilet paper, so I went to a few continuing education classes and obtained a certificate in paralegal studies.”
“Was she proud?” Lacey questioned.
“She was over the moon, and Nonno called me Marcia Clark when I got my first job in a law firm,” Reina said, laughing at the memory. “They were really great.”
“You must be so close to them.”
“I was,” she said, fondly remembering the two people who raised her. “They passed a few years ago. My grandma first and then six months later my Nonno passed,” she continued, releasing a breath. “He was never the same after she died; even his doctor said he must’ve died of a broken heart.”
The room grew silent, and I walked around the table behind Reina. I looked at my daughter who sadly stared at her plate and leaned over Reina, placing the beer next to her plate before giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. Regret filled me, realizing I had pegged her all wrong. She wasn’t some prissy bitch born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She was nothing like the woman I thought Danny would’ve been with, and for the first time I wondered about their relationship.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and I removed my hand, taking my seat again. I turned to my daughter and asked her about the college courses she was taking that were costing me an arm and a leg.
I felt Reina’s eyes on me as I diverted Lacey’s questions away from her. Lacey rattled on about term papers, boring professors and deciding on a major. I chanced a glance toward Reina and she smiled at me, her eyes thanking me for the reprieve and mine thanking her for the piece of her she had shared with us. By the time we cleared the table and made coffee, Reina seemed very comfortable and not the awkward woman I initially met.
We had pie and I commented on how Reina’s was better—she blushed and Lacey insisted she make it for her some time. I don’t remember enjoying many birthdays in my thirty-eight years but I’ll remember this one and when I do I’ll remember Reina’s smile, Lacey’s laughter and the unfamiliar peace that settled over me.
Reina glanced at her watch and frowned.
“You have work tonight?” I asked.
“No, I just didn’t realize how late it was. I should get going,” she said.