The Spanish Love Deception: A Novel

“And you said the desserts were nothing to write home about. Well, this chocolate cake tells a different story, pal,” I talked over my surprisingly amazing in-flight dessert. “Do you think I could ask for another serving?” I hummed in pleasure.

Heck, it was so good that I wasn’t even ashamed to do that.

Not even with Aaron occupying the lush first-class seat beside me. Oh yeah, because, apparently, I flew in first class now. I still hadn’t figured out exactly how I had let him ask—or rather demand—for an upgrade of my economy seat without even putting up a fight. But I knew it had included him throwing an arm over my shoulders and uttering the word girlfriend. Which, in hindsight, I knew it had blindsided me enough to somehow nod like a fool and place my passport on the check-in counter.

He lowered the newspaper he had been hiding behind and revealed a cocked eyebrow. “Pal?”

“Silence. I’m having a moment with my cake.”

He sighed and returned to his reading.

Holding my spoon in the air, I hesitated before taking it to my mouth. “You didn’t have to do that, you know? Paying for the upgrade of my tickets is too much.”

I heard a noncommittal grunt come from him.

“I’m serious, Aaron.”

“I thought you wanted to eat in silence.”

“I’ll give you back the money when we return from the trip. You are doing enough as it is.”

Aaron’s sigh followed my words almost immediately. “There’s no need. I’m a member of the airline’s Sky Club, and I have plenty of miles,” he explained as I finally took that last bite of chocolate heaven. “And as I told you, this is time we can use to prep.”

When I finally devoured what had just become the highlight of my day, I wiped my mouth with the napkin, placed it back on the tray in front of me, and turned to Aaron. “Which reminds me, break is over.”

He ignored me.

I poked the back of the newspaper with my index finger. “We have to get back to work. Come on.” Another poke. “Time to prep.”

“Do you have to do that?” Aaron pleaded from behind it.

“Yes.” I poked the newspaper a few times, making it impossible for him to keep reading. “I need your full attention. We have only gone through a few of my family members, and we are running out of time.” I tugged at one of the corners. “Do I have your attention?”

“You don’t need to do any of that.” He lowered the large black-and-white-colored pages with a brisk motion. “You always have my undivided attention, Catalina.”

That made my finger halt in the air.

“Ha.” I narrowed my eyes. “Cute of you to try to buy me with cheap tricks.” I leveled him with what I hoped was a serious look. “Don’t think you are going to get out of it, sweet-talking me into leaving you alone. The international relationships of the United States of America are not important right now.”

With a reluctant nod, Aaron folded it meticulously and set it on top of his tray. “All right,” he said, blue eyes focusing completely on me. “No distractions. I’m all yours.”

All yours.

My breath got stuck somewhere between my lungs and mouth. “Groom and bride?” I managed to get out.

“Gonzalo and Isabel.” He rolled his eyes, as if I could do better at testing him.

Challenging me.

“Trio of cousins, who you will not listen to a word that leaves their lips?” I paused and then tilted my head. “Especially if it starts with, Hey, do you want to hear something funny?”

“That would be Lucas, Matías, and Adrián.”

He hadn’t hesitated. Well, good. Those savages were dangerous; you never knew what would come out of their mouths. Or them in general.

“Parents of the bride and your supposedly future parents-in-law if you were serious about me, which you totally are?”

“Cristina and Javier,” he answered immediately. “I should be polite but address them by their first name, or they will be offended and think I’m a pretentious ass.” Aaron paused after repeating my earlier words exactly. He adjusted his big body in the more than spacious seat, making it look smaller and cramped. “Javier is a university History professor and speaks English fluently. Cristina is a nurse, and her English is … just not as good. However, she is the one I should be more wary of. Even when it looks like she doesn’t understand me, chances are, she is still weighing my every word.”

I nodded, secretly impressed. He was acing all my questions—for the second time. Not that I was surprised. He had proven in the past that his determination knew no limits when it came to success, no matter the task. Aaron didn’t half-ass things; he delivered the best results. Always.

Good. He was going to need all his determination with the Martín family and the rest of the wedding party.

But that didn’t mean I was completely satisfied. Not yet.

“Parents of the groom?”

“Juani and Manuel,” Aaron shot back quickly.

Nodding my head, I watched his mouth open, knowing what was going to leave out of it before it did. Those were the parents of the groom’s brother too. Who was my ex.

“Okay, next question,” I rushed out. “Cousin who you must avoid at all costs unless I am with you to control the situation?” Turning in my seat, I sat on top of one of my legs and faced him completely.

In an attempt to see how he worked under pressure, I schooled my face with my most assertive expression.

Aaron’s jaw twitched, and he looked distracted.

Dammit. Was he hesitating? He couldn’t.

An objection was about to leave my lips when he recovered, beating me to speak. “Charo.” The name of my cousin sounded different from Aaron’s lips, the word adorned with his strong American accent.

And I would have instantly criticized his pronunciation, if not for what he did next and the shock that it induced in my body.

His arm rose in the air, his big hand reaching for my face very slowly. My eyes bounced from that hand to his face, finding his gaze fixated somewhere to the right of my lips. And then, before I could stop what was about to happen, his thumb made contact with my skin. Very softly.

He was brushing my cheek. Very close to my mouth.

All and every complaint died and went up to heaven the moment his finger swiped over my skin.

He started talking again, looking engrossed by the motion of his thumb. “Charo,” he repeated distractedly.

While I … I simply remained frozen in place. Feeling how that simple contact against my skin seemed to awaken little fires all across my body.

“You said I must run away from a red-haired woman with inquisitive green eyes and little to no shame. And that would be Charo.”

How such a gentle contact could scorch my skin so effectively was something that I … couldn’t understand. My lips parted, a shaky breath leaving them.

Only then did Aaron’s eyes look up and meet mine.

My blood swirled, rising to my neck, my cheeks, my temples. Spreading out as I held his gaze, the blue in his eyes turning a little darker.

When Aaron looked away, just as he retrieved his thumb, I felt myself relax. But it was short-lived because as soon as my gaze fell down and found his hand as it hovered in the air, I discovered with horror that there was a smudge of chocolate on his thumb.

Both of which had been on my face less than a couple of seconds ago.

Oh Lord.

And yet, what almost knocked me off my seat and to the carpeted floor of the aircraft turned out to be something else entirely. Not the knowledge of learning I had been talking for a small eternity with cake hanging from my face. Nope. Or the knowledge I had done that in front of Aaron, who would probably use that against me in the future. No. What almost knocked me on my ass, if not for the seat belt, was Aaron leading his finger to his mouth, parting those lips that were so often pressed in an unamused line, and wiping the chocolate clean off his thumb.

Chocolate that he had just retrieved from the corner of my mouth.

A riot of emotions burst inside my belly as I watched his throat gulp it down, appreciation flashing through his face.

And I … holy shit. I just stared at him, completely … enraptured. Utterly shocked.

I should have been appalled. But I wasn’t. My brown eyes were now fixated on Aaron’s mouth, noticing how all the heat that I’d felt in my face traveled around my body to all kinds of interesting places, all the while keeping my eyes where they were. On his lips.

Out of my peripheral vision, I made out how Aaron cleaned his hand methodically on the napkin that rested on my tray.

“You were right; the cake was that good.” He cleared his throat, as if nothing had happened. “As I was saying, we should avoid your cousin Charo.”

When my gaze somehow managed to make it back to his eyes, I felt all kinds of hot, bothered, and weird.

“You stressed how important it is that Charo doesn’t suspect us. Our deal.”

Barely listening to what he was saying, I watched his hand lift in the air again. Then, his thumb was brushing the commissure of my lips one more time. This time, feeling twice as intensely. His touch twice as gentle. My eyes fluttered closed for an instant.

“I think you got all the chocolate.” My voice was so breathy that I barely recognized it. “Thanks.”

“Just wanted to be thorough,” he answered quietly as his gaze bounced from that goddamn spot close to the corner of my lips to my eyes. “Next question?”

“Best man?”

I squirmed in my seat, uneasiness replacing all the earlier tingly warmth. Perhaps because that was a topic that didn’t wake up the fuzziest of feelings in me. Or maybe because of how unsettled I was by what had just happened. I couldn’t be sure, but I held my breath as I waited for his answer.

“Daniel.” Aaron’s gaze held mine, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “He’s your ex and the groom’s brother.”

I nodded my head once, unable to do much more than that.

Aaron rearranged himself in the seat, dipping his head so we were at eye-level. “You haven’t said much else about him. Is there anything besides that, that I should know?”

He regarded me quietly, almost expectantly, and I could really tell I had all his undivided attention. Just how he had said earlier. Although this time, it wasn’t a trick. The need to open up to him and tell him everything manifested itself, making me doubt myself.

“No. That’s all.” I shifted in my seat, lowering my gaze to his hands, which were resting on his lap. “He’s my ex and Gonzalo’s older brother by a few years. Isabel and him met through us, when we started dating. And … that’s about it.”

If I were smarter, I’d tell Aaron the whole story.

But as of lately, I’d seemed to excel at making only stupid decisions. So, that was all I gave him.

In my defense, facing the catalyst of my current predicament was going to be hard enough. I did not want to spend my time talking about Daniel because that meant going back down memory lane, which had consisted of bad decisions and heartbreak.

So, no, it wasn’t something I was happy to casually chat about regardless of how crucial it was for the show we were about to put on. Even if a part of me refused to acknowledge just how small I would feel, showing Aaron that piece of myself, and even when I knew that I was lying to him. Lying again. It was a lie by omission, sure, but it had the potential to bite me in the ass later. Just like any lie would.

“You can trust me,” he said softly.

Maybe I could. But that didn’t mean trusting Aaron with that would ever come easy to me. That fragment of my life had been locked up for a long time—perhaps so long that chances were, the lock had grown rusty and withered and there was no working it back open. That would explain how I had gotten here. Somewhere across the Atlantic Ocean, sitting next to a man I usually struggled to share the same air with without wanting to throw something at his hard head, but who had somehow happened to be the one man in New York City in the position to fill in as my made-up boyfriend.

“What’s my abuela’s name?” I kept my gaze low, anywhere but on his face. I didn’t think I wanted to get a single clue as to what he was feeling at that moment. I didn’t think it would make me feel good.

“Catalina,” Aaron said my name with something that sounded a lot like pity.

I hated it. “Incorrect,” I snapped. “My abuela’s name is not Catalina, Aaron. You need to know the name of my only living grandmother.”

I was deflecting, but that didn’t change the facts. He really had to know the name of my abuela.

“So?” I pressed. “What’s my abuela’s name?”

Aaron dropped his head on the plush headrest, closing his eyes for a second. “Your abuela’s name is María, and she doesn’t speak one word of English, which shouldn’t trick me into thinking that she is harmless. If by any chance she shoves food in my direction, I’m to keep my mouth shut and eat.” Aaron’s words rolled off his tongue, as if he had been practicing this speech for weeks.

“Impressive.” I nodded my head.

He took a deep breath and looked at me, pleading. “We have gone through this a thousand times, and you are giving me a headache.” His eyebrows knit. “You need to relax. I need to rest. Let’s do that. Do you think you can be quiet for a few hours?”

“First of all, it was only three times.” I showed him with my fingers, just to be thorough. “And we are not even done with the last round of questions. And secondly, I am completely and absolutely relaxed. I am cooler than a cucumber, Blackford. I just want to be sure that you don’t screw up and mix up basic info. You are my boyfriend—” I stopped myself, hearing what had just left my mouth. “That is the part you will play in this whole Spanish love deception. My made-up boyfriend. So, you should at least know the names of my immediate family, so no one can sniff that you and I are not a real thing. And trust me, they’ll know if you so much as hesitate.”

That earned me a scowl.

“Yes. Do not look at me like that,” I told him, pointing my finger at his frown. “In Spain, cousins and second cousins are immediate family too, okay? Same goes for uncles, aunts, and great-uncles and great-aunts. Sometimes, neighbors too.” I paused in thought. “Oh, maybe we should go over the physical descriptions again—”

“No,” Aaron cut off my suggestion, his voice sounding more frustrated by the second. “What we need to do is rest. And if you don’t want to do that, then you should let me rest. Do you want me to be all grumpy when we land?”

“You are always grumpy.”

His scowl deepened. “Do you want me to be so tired that I’ll be extra grumpy and make a bad impression?”

“Is that a threat?” A gasp left my lips.

“No,” he said, taken aback by my accusation. “But it’s a possible outcome if you don’t let me sleep.”

“But it will be just one more time. It can be quick. Just first cousins?” I bargained with a pout.

Aaron sighed dramatically.

“Or maybe we should go over basic stuff, like my favorite color, the movie that makes me cry, or what I’m most afraid of.”

Aaron deflated in his seat.

I opened my mouth, but Aaron cut the air with his hand, stopping me. “Coral. P.S. I Love You. And snakes or anything that looks remotely like one.”

Well, that … was one hundred percent correct.

Then, he closed his eyes, shutting off the world. And me.

Rendered speechless, I rested my head on the seat, imitating him, as I told myself I didn’t want to think about how he had been right. On all of those three things. But the silence only turned every other thought and worry in my head louder and louder.

That earlier emotion was back, making me feel squirmy and nervous and causing me to lose control of the little restraint I usually tried to keep up around Aaron.

“I just want to make sure everything goes perfectly.” My voice came out weak. “I’m sorry if I am giving you a headache.”

Aaron must have heard something in my confession even if I wasn’t sure my words had been loud enough to reach him over the buzz filling the cabin.

His eyes snapped open, and his head turned in my direction. “Why are you so sure I will mess up?”

That question seemed sincere. And that only made the knot in my chest grow.

Did he think all I worried about was him failing at remembering my tía-abuela’s name?

The real impostor was me, not him. “It’s not that.” I shook my head, unable to find the right words. “I … I want them to believe I am happy.”

“Are you not happy, Catalina?” His gaze searched mine with that intensity of his that I was slowly starting to believe would eventually expose all my secrets.

“I guess I am,” I exhaled, sounding more somber than I wanted to give away. “I think I’m happy. I just want everyone else back at home to believe that I am. Even if the only way to accomplish that is this way”—I waved my hand between the two of us—“if you look the part. If we do. Only if everyone back home believes that I’m not lonely and single because I’m broken.” I could see him piecing something together, so I filled in the silence. “We need to make them—all of them—believe that we are deeply, utterly, and completely in love. If they find out about our arrangement, they won’t let me live it down. It will be humiliating. Probably a million times worse than attending the wedding alone and having them pity me until the end of my days.”

If they discovered that I had convinced someone to act as my boyfriend, someone who wasn’t even a friend, I would only manage to confirm what they’d already believed about me. That I was the broken, stuck, and pathetic Lina they saw.

Aaron’s eyes sparked with what looked like understanding. As if something had finally clicked together. The truth behind my motivation perhaps? I hoped not. But whatever it was, it was short-lived because we were interrupted.

His attention shifted to the flight attendant hovering right above our heads.

She directed a radiant smile at him. One he didn’t reciprocate. “Would you like something to drink, Mr. Blackford? Miss Martín?”

“Two gin and tonics, please,” he said without so much as a second glance to the flight attendant. “That okay, baby?”

My head reared back at that last word. Baby. “Yes, sure,” I whispered, feeling my cheeks heat immediately.

Okay, that had … that had been … I had never been baby to anyone. And judging by the quick flutter in my stomach, I had kind of liked it. Oh boy. I had actually liked hearing that. Even if it had been fake.

“Thank you, erm …” I stole a glance at the flight attendant, who was eyeing Aaron in an appreciative way. “Thank you, boyfriend.”

The woman nodded at us with a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be back with your drinks.”

“You know,” Aaron started in a hushed voice once she was gone, “you are worried about me messing up and mixing up dozens of Spanish names that I’ve heard for the first time today, and yet you overlook that calling me boyfriend will probably give it all away rather quickly.”

“Dozens of names?” I hissed. “More like a dozen.”

Aaron cut me a look.

“A couple dozen, tops. But you might be right,” I admitted, earning a shocked look from him. “What pet name would you like me to call you?”

“Whatever makes you the happiest. Just pick one.”

In that moment, the effect of the baby came back with a vengeance. “I don’t know,” I said, kicking that one out of my head. “I guess one in Spanish makes sense. Bollito? Cuchi cuchi? Pocholito?”

“Bollito?”

“It’s little bun.” I smiled. “Like those bread buns that are spongey and shiny and so cute that—’

“Okay, no.” He frowned. “I think it’s better if we stick to our names,” he said, taking both drinks from the attendant who had just reappeared and placing mine in front of me. “I don’t think I can trust you to pick one in Spanish without knowing what it means.”

“I’m very trustworthy—you should know that by now.” I brought a finger to my chin, tapping it a few times. “How about conejito? That’s little bunny.”

With a long sigh, Aaron let his massive body fall deeper into the seat.

“You are right; you are not a bunny.” I paused. “Osito?” I made a show of looking him up and down, as if I were testing the name on him. “Yeah, that one is way more fitting. You are more of a bear.”

What was very close to a groan got stuck in Aaron’s throat. He lifted his glass to his lips and almost downed half of it. “Just drink and try to get some sleep, Catalina.”

“Okay.” I turned away, snuggling in my seat and taking a sip of my drink. “If you insist, osito.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Aaron finishing up the rest of his gin and tonic.

Not that I blamed him. We were definitely in need of some liquid courage if we wanted to survive this.