Page 36 of Built of Flames
She huffed out a laugh at that. “Not hardly. Practical, maybe. Okay. I’m going to waffle over what to wear for a minute, then I’ll walk over.”
The Martinez house was only a few blocks from the duplex. Mitch snatched her hand as Bella started to turn.
“Hey. First, I’m going with you. I’ll wait in the car if you like, but I’m not letting you go alone. Second, it doesn’t matter what you wear. All you need is you. Third. I think there’s ice cream in the freezer for after.”
That earned him a genuine smile. Then she reached up on her toes and kissed him lightly. “Thank you. That’s all exactly what I needed to hear. Give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll be ready to go.”
She grabbed her small duffle bag and headed up the stairs. To his bedroom. He wanted to follow her, toss her onto the bed and not leave it for days and days.
She had to do this for herself first. And he did have to work in the morning. But he still wanted her there. In his bed. Wherever his bed would be.
For the rest of his life.
Playing With Fire
Bella leaned over the console of Mitch’s car and kissed him. “For luck.”
“Send me a one letter text if you need me. Any letter. Don’t worry about it making sense or writing words.”
This man made her heart fill, and she had to kiss him again. “Thanks. Hope I don’t need it, but I appreciate the support.”
“You’ll be fine.”
He didn’t hurry her out of the car. Like he hadn’t hurried her to make the decision. Sure, he’d brought it up, but he hadn’t pushed.
She was falling further into love by the day. With a shaky smile, Bella opened the door and stepped out. She could do this. Had to do this.
Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, Bella walked up to the front door. She’d lived her first twenty years in this house, but she wouldn’t ever simply walk in.
When their mom had been alive, the house had often been full of laughter and fun. She’d welcomed their friends and the cookie jar had always been full. Bella continued to make her cookie recipes to keep those memories alive.
There weren’t many matching memories with her dad. He was like a shadow in her memories of her mom. Always there, but on the sidelines.
It was weird. He’d never been abusive, never hit either of his kids. He didn’t yell or intimidate. But he’d been in the background. Working.
She wondered what his memories held.
Bella knocked and waited. It wasn’t long before she heard the lock disengage and then the door swung open.
Juan Martinez filled the frame. He hadn’t changed much in the past few years. A little more gray in his thick head of hair. A few more lines on his face. But his body remained tall and strong.
She watched the curiosity morph into surprise and then shock. Then his features settled into wariness. When he spoke, his voice shook. “Isabella?”
“Hi, Dad.”
For a long moment, they looked at each other, then he held open the door. “You want to come in?”
She nodded and walked into her childhood home. So much remained the same. The couch her mom had chosen. The framed photos she’d hung on the walls and put on the tables stood in the same places. No cookie aromas scented the air, but her mom’s presence was still there.
Bella walked to a photo she’d forgotten. She’d been too young to remember the picture being taken, but it had hung in the front foyer as long as she could remember.
Her mom was pushing Christo on one swing while her dad sat on the swing beside it with Bella in his arms. Juan held her so carefully and looked with such love at her mom.
They’d been a happy family. Her mom’s death had changed everything and Anna would hate that.
Bella brushed her fingers over the photo. “I miss her.”
Her dad hadn’t moved from his spot at the door. He grunted in what sounded like agreement. Then he moved to the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got coffee on.”