“So why only Mexican girls?”
His mom turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow as she piled the food onto his plate. “They don’t have to be Mexican. But it’s just better if you stick with your own culture. At least stick with Latinas.” She set the plate in front of him. “And hopefully to the ones whose parents were born in their country, not the second generation Latinas. They’re just as bad as non-Latinas—too Americanized—too modern for their own good.”
Hector rolled his eyes now, ready to chuck this theory in the fire pit along with the “the younger the better” theory. “And what does that mean? Too modern for their own good?”
He grabbed a tortilla and started rolling it up already, doubtful that his mom would have a valid argument for this one either.
After setting a glass of milk down for him, his mother sat across from him and picked up the home profile papers. “Well, you mean aside from the obvious? They don’t cook.”
She said that with so much conviction Hector laughed. Figures his mom would think that would be a deal breaker.
“And?” he looked up from dipping his tortilla in his chili verde.
His mom frowned. “Mijo, they’re just too liberal about everything. You wanna nice girl that still has some of the same good old-fashioned values you grew up with. You stray away from what you’re used to, and you’ll be treading into unknown waters. They are brought up believing and being told things Latinas are not told. Like that it’s okay to jump from one man’s bed to another’s just like that because men do it all the time. This equality stuff is constantly shoved into their modern-day heads. Some things are still sacred, and behaving that way is still frowned upon in our culture. Well, my era. And while I don’t have any daughters, just as I harp to you and Abel, I would like to think women like me from my era in my culture are also passing their beliefs and morals down to their girls.”
And there you had it. Another one of his mother’s theories completely deflated. Although he’d met enough of the sweet Latinas his mother spoke of, he’d also met plenty like Leticia and Miriam. His mother’s suggestion that only the Latin world still held morals was ridiculous.
Even he and Abel were perfect arguments against that. While his mother had managed to instill most of the morals and values she harped on about so often, neither Hector nor Abel had any qualms about engaging in a few acts his mother would certainly protest, so long as the girls were all for it.
Charlee was another contradiction to his mother’s belief. He frowned, realizing that once again he was thinking about her, even as infuriating as that afternoon had been for him. It didn’t make sense.
Uncontrollable desire was something even the most innocent would have a hard time masking. Hector had felt it in her kisses. It was exactly what he was feeling with every stroke of her tongue in his mouth. But the depth he’d felt in her kisses wasn’t because of the level of skill she possessed. It was just the opposite. If he had to guess, that might’ve been her first time doing something that arousing, and except for that heavenly moment his mouth veered downward to her neck, it’d only gone as far as kissing. Even then, her entire body had come alive, but not as he was used to. There was something so chaste about her body’s reaction to what he did to her, and he hadn’t even done much.
That’s why he’d been so stunned about her forgettable comment. What he felt when he kissed her was hands down new to him, and almost two weeks later it was still so fresh in his head. All he had to do was close his eyes and feel it all over again.
He stood up, once he’d polished off his food. His mother asked the same thing she asked both him and Abel every single time they finished eating. “Did you get full?” Hector nodded, placing the plate in the sink. “You got real quiet there all of a sudden.” Hector glanced back at his mom’s inquiring eyes. “Is there a reason why you were asking about girls that were not Mexican? Are you seeing one?”
His mom was a sly one. Too bad she was wrong. “Nope,” he said, rubbing her shoulders as he came up behind her. “I was just curious.” He kissed her on the head. “I’m gonna go to the gym for a while.”
“I thought you were there all morning?”
“Yeah, I was, but I still have some paperwork to do in the office.”
It was partly true. He did have some work to do but nothing that couldn’t wait until the next morning. He just didn’t feel up to sitting around watching T.V. because he knew he’d be plagued with thoughts of the inevitable. He only hoped Walter had already worked out and left. It’s why he’d come home first and taken his time eating. The last thing he needed tonight was to hear the guy go on and on about Charlee.
Chapter 16
For as long as Charlee could remember, Drew had done the very thing she was now doing—tried to turn a negative into a positive. Ever since lasts weeks’ outburst from Hector at school about her talking to Ross, Drew was trying to convince Charlee that, once again, this was a good thing. That it only confirmed even further the very thing that Drew had been talking about just prior to going back for her paycheck: Hector had a serious thing for Charlee but didn’t do commitment.
Only after seeing how crazy it made Hector to see Charlee with Ross, Drew now had a plan—a plan Charlee refused to take part in.
“I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult, Charlee. You agreed there was no doubt about it. He was jealous.”