Page 170 of Raspados & Regret

I lick the chamoy from his thumb.

Slowly.

Not obscene enough to get arrested but just enough that Junior makes gagging sounds and my tía says, “Ay, Fabián,” in a voice that means she is judging me but also amused and also still going to make me take home leftovers.

Elías’s eyes darken behind his glasses.

“Papi’s getting bold,” he murmurs.

I shrug. “I’m working on my public displays of affection.”

“That’s what we’re calling this?”

“Educational, huh.”

“Very.”

His fingers curl lightly against my palm, and I don’t let go.

“Anybody ever tell you how hot you look holding a toddler?” Elías looks me up and down, and for a second I think he’s going to grab my hand and drag me to the trailer.

My brain stutters and starts thinking about me holding a tinier baby, a baby that could be ours. How sexy he’d look reading to our kid, helping coach soccer games, being the dad I never got.

Elías leans closer, shoulder against mine, nudging me out of the daydream. “You okay?”

I look at him and smile, reaching down to give his hand a squeeze. “I’m good. Got a little caught up in my head. You know… you’d make a pretty hot dad.”

His expression softens. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I huff, laughing. “I know we’re not there yet, but… um, is that something you ever think about?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “I mean… sometimes I guess. But I know it’s a process, and I never really thought I’d find a guy that would want kids.”

“I want one someday,” I whisper, quiet enough that my tia won’t hear me say it. “So maybe you could think about the idea of that with me?

His smile breaks open, and all I want to do is kiss him.

So I do.

Right there at the booth, under the lights, with the market buzzing around us and both our families pretending not to stare. The kiss is quick because we’re still working and my tía will throw a spoon at me if the line backs up.

But it is enough.

Enough for Elías’s fingers to tighten in mine.

Enough for someone in line to cheer.

Enough for Junior to yell, “Finally,” like he has not had a front-row seat to our entire relationship and several crimes against public decency.

I pull back.

Elías looks up at me with that soft, smug, dangerous face I have loved longer than I was willing to admit.

There.

The word.

Loved. Love.