Names I Call My Sister Read online

  He sandwiched it between his own. As she stood, his eyes trailed all over her and she flashed hot with the image of those big, rough hands gliding up her hips.

  Oh, there was no way she was letting Dori in on her fun.

  “I get the first dance,” he said and let her go.

  “You’re too late,” Sela said, joining Dori as the old-fashioned lamps lining the walk flicked to life.

  “I have thirty seconds left,” Dori said flatly.

  “What if I don’t want to share?”

  “More like you’re afraid you’ll lose.”

  Bitch. Dori tried to use that Jedi mind shit on her, but this time it wouldn’t work. “I don’t think he’s your type,” she said through a tight jaw. “Or that you’re his.”

  “Mom is looking for you because Dad saw you leaving with him.”

  Afraid they would be overheard, Sela grabbed her sister’s arm and yanked her back toward the hotel. “Can we talk about this somewhere else?”

  Dori jerked back. “Not that way.”

  Sela didn’t have to ask why. “Pete followed you? What did he say?”

  Dori’s eyes shot out death rays as she jerked Sela away. They took the long way back to the lobby, through the shops and up a secret staircase that dropped them off behind the lobby bar.

  Sela half wished she’d been the fly on the wall when Pete and Dori met face-to-face. She liked Pete okay, mostly because no other man had the balls to stand up to her sister. But he’d destroyed Dori when he left her.

  When they swept through the door of the ladies’ room, Dori stopped so suddenly that Sela crashed into her.

  “What the hell, Dori?” she blurted, then realized that Dannie was holding court in the lounge with her bridesmaids, mother, and a nun.

  Dannie looked like a Ralph Lauren photo spread with her sculpted blond up-do, swanlike neck, elegant facial bones, and the graceful slope of her white shoulders.

  Someone cleared their throat.

  “Congratulations,” Dori said, ever the diplomat.

  Dannie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. What did we do to you? Sela would have asked if Dori hadn’t yanked her into a stall.

  “Here’s the deal—” Dori started, locking the door.

  “But I want to know what happened with Pete,” Sela insisted.

  “Nothing.”

  Sela rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to play anymore. Eric is mine.”

  “You started this and now you’re going to see it out.”

  “You can’t make me.” She tried to push Dori out of her way. But she didn’t work out as much as her sister.

  “What are you so afraid of?” Dori asked, a laugh tickling her voice. “Losing your touch, are you?”

  “Like you? I don’t think so,” Sela shot back.

  “You are absolutely unbelievable,” Dori said.

  Someone rapped sharply on the door.

  Dori and Sela dropped their anger like a hot potato.

  “Do you think it’s the nun?” Sela asked softly.

  Dori shrugged and called out, “Yes?”

  “It’s me. Let me in,” Grammy ordered.

  Dori opened the door, and Grammy forced Sela to wedge herself between the toilet bowl and the wall to make room.

  “What are you two arguing about? There’s El Tigre out there wandering around by himself, and Lupe the wedding hoochie is making eyes at him!”

  “Sela is welching on the game.”

  Grammy gasped with disappointment and outrage. “Mija,” she admonished. “Dori needs El Tigre to show up—” She snapped her fingers, forgetting Pete’s name.

  “Pete?” Sela asked, and Dori’s eyes turned stony with frustration.

  “He has a fiancée,” Grammy said.

  Sela wilted with guilt. Now that changed things. She didn’t mind showing up to Robbie’s wedding without a date, but this was bad for Dori. Really bad.

  Suddenly, she started thinking of all the things her big sister had done for her. How she’d never asked one embarrassing question about the gloves Mom made her wear…that Dori got angry at Robbie on her behalf because he hadn’t let her play a song for him and Dannie…that her sister had come out to warn her about Mom…

  Sela frowned. She hated being the bad sister. So if Dori needed Eric to show up Pete, then she should at least give her the chance to win him, which of course Dori never would.

  “Look, maybe you should—” She wavered, briefly meeting Dori’s hard gaze before her eyes fell back to the marble floor. “—talk to him. He actually has a brain to go with the body and the face.”

  Time slithered on its belly as Dori stared at her, probably analyzing every word she had just said.

  “Someone say something,” Grammy interjected. “I need to use the toilet.”

  “I want extra time because you took him outside,” Dori said.

  Sela’s confidence slipped as she took in her older sister’s tough yet elegant beauty. Eric might find her strength and intelligence more appealing. He might be one of those guys who liked women who could kick his ass.

  “Five more minutes,” Grammy said to Dori. “We’ll give you a handicap since it’s been a long time for you.”

  “A long time for what?”

  Grammy replied, “You know.”

  “I do not need a handicap.”

  Grammy turned to Sela. “You think you can take her on?”

  No. Well, maybe. “Equal rules,” Sela replied nobly. “That way the best girl wins.”

  With a disgusted glare at Grammy, Dori took Sela’s hand. “There might not be much left when I’m done with him.”

  Sela grimaced when Dori squeezed the bones of her hand. Her competitive spirit was up, and it was about to get nasty.

  Grammy laughed. “This might be a real Orihuela wedding after all.”

  Chapter 5

  She so did not need a handicap.

  With steam seemingly trailing out from her ears, Dori shoved the ladies’ room door open, nearly hitting a sunburned tourist in the face.

  She’d check this El Tigre out; see if he was all that Sela was making him out to be. More than likely he was just another loser in a long line of losers who’d dump Sela in a week or two. God knows it didn’t take much of a brain for a guy to figure out that her sister was an easy mark.

  Standing in the doorway of the ballroom, Dori took in a deep breath, falling back on her training. Slow the situation down and control it; don’t let it control you.

  Her gaze flowed over the faces. There he was. For the briefest second she caught a glimmer of “cop” in the way he leaned against the pillar with his arms crossed and his back to the wall. From there he could see everyone walking in and out of the room. The video crew that worked the wedding approached him but he waved them off.

  Why wasn’t he at his table?

  She made her way over.

  “Hi,” she said when she got close. He turned those eyes on her. She should’ve double-checked her deodorant situation before leaving the bathroom.

  “Hello,” he said politely, yet he was on guard. “You’re Sela’s sister, right?”

  “I’m Dori,” she answered, holding out her hand. When he said his name, she looked down at the V of his shirt and had a mental image of herself licking his skin.

  She cleared her throat. “Anyway, Sela had to deal with a family thing,” she said, still figuring out how to work him. “She asked me to tell you she’d be back in about twenty minutes.”

  He opened his mouth to reply when something caught his attention behind her. Those warm eyes iced over, and Dori followed his gaze to the doors. Dannie walked in with her entourage. A quick glimpse at him and Dori confirmed that he was staring at the bride.

  Before she could ask if he was a friend of Dannie’s family, he turned the charm back on her.

  “You two don’t look anything alike,” Eric said in a voice that was like the silken brush of a Hawaiian breeze. Dori saw that the warmth didn’t quite reach his eyes.


  “That’s an interesting bracelet,” she said, eyeing the brown beaded bracelet that slid out of his sleeve and over the dark skin of his wrist. “Where’d you get it?”

  “I got it in Cancun last year,” he answered. “I keep meaning to take it off but I keep forgetting to.”

  “Who gave it to you?” She kept her face as bland as possible, as if she were just making small talk.

  “A friend.” His tone warned her that he didn’t want to discuss it.

  Something wasn’t quite jibing with this guy, and she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  “Can I ask you a question?” she asked, forgetting about landing him in the sack. “Are you a police officer?”

  He jerked his chin back, thrown off by her question.

  “My ex was an officer,” she explained, “and there’s, uh, something about you that reminds me of him.”

  She bet FBI as she edged closer so a waiter could squeeze by.

  “DEA,” Eric answered. “Do I have it stamped on the back of my jacket?”

  She laughed, flipping through her mental files of whom she could call to verify his ass. Not answering his question, she asked instead, “So are you a friend of the groom?”

  His eyes narrowed. “A friend of the bride’s family,” he said.

  Just as Dori was getting warmer, she spotted Pete watching her from his table. His fiancée wasn’t there beside him.

  Her thoughts screeched to a halt and then crashed into each other.

  “Oh, uh…” she muttered, trying to claw her way back to clarity.

  “How did you know I was a cop?” Eric asked, and she looked up at him with blinking eyes.

  “Well I…” She laughed because it was the only thing she could think to do. “Sorry. I forgot what we were talking about.”

  Her face flared. Damn it, she’d been doing so well. She’d been in control of the exchange and fucking Pete threw her off.

  Eric turned back to her, having looked over his shoulder at Pete. “Is he the jealous type? Because he’s coming this way.”

  She didn’t think twice. “Nice meeting you.”

  “Wait a second. You didn’t answer my question.”

  But she was already on her way out the door.

  Sela frowned when she watched Dori walk away from Eric, his eyes lingering on her swaying hips.

  “What is she doing?” Grammy asked. “Where is she going? Is her time up?”

  Dori had been with him for less than five minutes. Sela looked for Pete and found him following Dori.

  Sela opened her mouth, about to say something along the lines of “Oh crap,” when angry fingers bit into her upper arm. She nearly tripped as her dad yanked her close.

  “What are you up to?” he said through clenched teeth, smelling like whiskey. “What were you doing in the ladies’ room?”

  His anger hit her like a punch in the stomach, leaving her no breath to even ask how he knew they had been in the ladies’ room. Over his shoulder she saw Dannie watching from the bridal table, where she sat like a medieval queen.

  “Dad,” she teased in an effort to gather the pieces of her scattered control. “I had a rip in my nylons.”

  “You better. I told you and your sister once before”—he stabbed his finger at her face—“do not ruin your brother’s wedding. No men, no drugs, no alco—”

  “I’d nev—”

  “Do not interrupt me!” Heads turned in their direction. “I mean it. I’ve had enough of you and your little games. Let us enjoy one special day without you trying to make a spectacle of yourself.”

  Just as quickly as he’d grabbed her, he turned and walked off, pulling down the lapels of his jacket.

  “Mija,” Grammy said finally recovering, having been just as shocked as Sela. “Are you okay?”

  Sela nodded, holding the tender spot on her arm. Her father strode across the ballroom, shaking hands and smiling like he hadn’t just yelled at her.

  Tears smarted her eyes as humiliation washed through her. Far across the ballroom, her mom watched as Dannie’s mother chatted blissfully. With the twinkling candles and the eruption of English garden flowers on the white-clothed tables, Sela felt as if this were a horribly surreal dream.

  She made eye contact with her mom, and then her mother went back to her conversation.

  “There he goes,” Grammy said, pointing to Eric, who slipped out to the lobby.

  “But it’s Dori’s time.”

  “She ran off! Go get El Tigre!”

  Sela caught up with him. His smile unfroze the ice particles that had formed in her stomach.

  “Family drama?” he asked.

  For a horrifying moment she wondered if he’d seen her with Dad.

  “Something like that.”

  “What happened?” He gestured at the red marks on her arm.

  Relief loosened her stiff shoulders. He hadn’t seen.

  “An overly affectionate uncle,” she lied, wishing she didn’t have to.

  “I have an aunt like that. Creeps me out.” He held up a pack of cigarettes. “You mind?”

  Night draped its shadows over the formal garden in the center of the hotel. Over the sounds of the jazz pianist playing “Tenderly,” people chatting and laughing, she made out the distant grumbling of the beach.

  “I might want a taste,” she said.

  He lit up and she took it from his fingers. His lips moistened the tip, and the sweet smoke tasted so good.

  “Thank you.”

  “I met your sister. She’s something else.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “She’s tough as hell.”

  Sela couldn’t help but respond to that gravelly voice. If he had a southern accent, he’d sound just like Johnny Cash.

  “So are you from the bride or groom’s side of the family?” he asked.

  “The groom is my brother. The bride is the spawn of Satan.”

  He laughed. “I know her brother, so…” He flicked off some ash. “Why do you call her that?”

  “Let’s just say that she’s got my parents fooled into thinking she’s a virginal saint.”

  “Really?”

  “Sorry. If you’re a friend of her brother’s—”

  “I don’t know her that well. Hey, what’s this?” He picked up her left hand and peered down at her ring finger, with its tattoo.

  “I haven’t much luck in the marriage department,” she explained, not mentioning that she had three to back up that claim.

  “Me neither,” he said as if letting her in on a secret. “I almost proposed last year. We were on a trip to Cancun, but I found out she was seeing another guy when she called him from our hotel room.”

  “Yikes.”

  Without any warning, he pressed his lips against her tattoo. Nuzzling her hand, he kept his eyes locked into hers, silently asking if this was okay. She took a step closer, his hot breath exciting her.

  Closer, his eyes willed her, and closer she went, until his hand slid under her hair and his shoulder was pressed between her breasts. His fingers lightly clutched the back of her neck as she sniffed the woodsy, almost peppery tang of his cologne.

  “What would you do if I kissed you?” he whispered against her temple.

  She ran the tip of her tongue between her lips, dying to taste him but holding out just a bit longer to build the thrumming anticipation.

  He hummed appreciatively and his fingers tightened their hold, locking her into place.

  As he lowered his lips, she whispered, “We should’ve gone somewhere more private.”

  When his lips met hers, she sucked in her breath as if she’d touched fire. His chin had a fine bristle that weakened her knees. Her restraint vibrated, wanting to break loose as their kiss went deeper, wetter. Her hand landed on his shoulder, when she really wanted to cup him and stroke him. His hip pressed against her stomach, and she could see with blinding clarity those hips working him in and out of her.

  It would be so good, so sweet.

>   “We better stop,” he said, slightly out of breath. “Or I won’t be able to walk.”

  “Where were you planning to walk to?” she teased.

  “Somewhere more private.”

  Chapter 6

  “We’re not doing this,” Dori warned Pete when he found her.

  “Just let me say what I need to say,” Pete said, catching her at a dead end in one of the hallways in the old part of the hotel. “And don’t knee me in the balls while I’m doing it.”

  “I should snap your neck. What the hell are you thinking, following me?”

  “I’ve been wanting to see you ever since you came—”

  “You’re pathetic.”

  “You’re an idiot if you think flirting with Eric Cervantes will make me jealous.”

  “Wha—Wait. You know him?”

  “Enough to tell someone I—” He cleared his throat. “He’s a great cop but he’s not a happy guy.”

  “Why?”

  “For one, I don’t think his ex-girlfriend invited him to her wedding.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He stared at her for a long while. “Dannie. His ex-girlfriend. You didn’t know?”

  Obviously. “What else do you know?”

  He shrugged. “Rumor around the sewing circle is that he gave up everything for her—promotion, career, you name it. And then she left him.”

  Dori steadied herself. She had to find Sela. She had to find Eric.

  “Wait a second,” Pete called after her.

  She threw her hand up in a gesture of dismissal.

  “I need to say good-bye. Before I marry Suz.”

  She froze.

  “Will you let me?”

  She heard the hushed tread of his shoes on the thick carpet. Then his heat settled against her back. His familiar scent wafted around, eliciting memories of her hands and her lips exploring his skin, the sounds he only made with her, the way he liked to blindfold her and position her any way he wanted.

  “I sometimes think that…” He couldn’t finish. She willed herself into a statue as his hand came up and his fingers gently curved over the top of her shoulder.

  “I love Suz. Don’t get me wrong. But she’s not you.”

  Dori spun around and his arm came up protectively. She caught it and yanked it down, attacking his mouth with hers.