The Here and Now (Worlds Collide The Duets #2) - LL Meyer Page 0,1

most dominant personality. Scott’s always chuckling about something she said or did; he calls her his little gangster-in-the-making.

Lastly, there’s his youngest sister, Carmen, age 8. She’s a bit of an enigma. Scott says she’s very quiet and responsible, the one who can be counted on to make good decisions.

My phone vibrates again.

Scott: We’ll be there to pick you up between ten and eleven.

Ellie: Ok, I’ll be ready.

After a moment of hesitation, I type out another message.

Ellie: I love you. Sleep well.

Scott: I love you too, Opal. Dream of me.

A smile blooms across my face and I can’t resist sending one more.

Ellie: Oh, I’m sure I will…hopefully something along the lines of what we did last night.

This sets off an hour or so of intermittent sexts and playfully dirty jokes while I tidy up my apartment and get ready for bed . . . and I couldn’t be happier. Hopefully fate isn’t planning any more surprises for either of us because, right now, our joint curve ball is hovering in a sweet spot that I could definitely get used to.

The knock on my apartment door the next morning sends the butterflies in my belly into a riot. While I managed to get a reasonable amount of sleep last night, I woke early and the morning’s wait has dragged by like molasses. Chucking all pretense of decorum, I rush to the door and get a glimpse of Scott and the tops of three dark heads through the peephole.

“Hi,” I say breathlessly as I pull the door open. My gaze starts with Scott and then lowers to take in the girls who are lined up in front of him. The awkward pause dissolves when I smile and stick out my hand to the first girl on the left. “Hi, I’m Ellie. You must be . . . Carmen?”

She just stares up at me until Scott nudges her gently from behind. “Uh, yes, I’m Carmen,” she says softly, cautiously reaching for my hand. We shake.

“Tío, está bien bonita,” says the girl in the middle. She’s beautiful.

I laugh. “Y tú . . . eres Daniela, ?verdad?” All three of them gasp as I shake Daniela’s hand. You’re Daniela, right?

“Papá,” Rosa squeaks, turning wide eyes on Scott. “Habla raro.”

Again, I laugh, completely charmed. Loosely translated she thinks my Spanish sounds funny. I realize I should tone down my accent. “Perdón,” I apologize with a much more Latin American pronunciation. “Se me olvidó que mi acento suena chistoso. ?Está mejor así?” Is it better like this?

They all nod, giggling up at me. I extend my hand to Rosa and introduce myself, sticking to Spanish.

Scott clears his throat, jerking my attention up. “Is it okay if we use your bathroom?” he asks in English, his lips pressing together with mild irritation. Oh shit, should I not be speaking Spanish with them?

“Oh, of course,” I step back and after they all remove their shoes, I lead the girls through to the bathroom.

“One at a time,” Scott calls from the living room. “And don’t forget to wash your hands.”

I hover in the hall for a moment, unsure if I’m supposed to wait with them. “Just holler if you need something, okay?” I ultimately tell them.

Scott’s leaning his hip against the patio door, looking out, but he turns as I enter the room. Hastening forward, I whisper, “Did I do okay?”

He scoffs, reaching for my hip to pull me close. “No, you didn’t.” My stomach swoops with dread, but then he laughs. “You didn’t even say hello to me.”

I give him a half-hearted whack to the bicep. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s not, I know. It’s awful.” His nose nuzzles along my neck where I feel his smile against my skin.

The soft titters floating from down the hall and the sound of the toilet flushing tell me we don’t have much time left, but when I try to pull away, Scott refuses to let me go. Deciding to follow his lead, I relax into his reassuring presence. “So, um, no Spanish then?”

“What? Why not?”

Lifting my head from his shoulder, I try to decipher his confused expression. “You seemed annoyed and you answered me in English.”

“Oh, no. It’s not that. I don’t like that the little punks are pulling the bathroom trick so they can come in and snoop around.”

I blink. “That’s a thing?”

He snorts. “Oh, it’s a thing all right. They know they’ve got me because I can’t say no.”

“That’s genius.”

“Diabolical genius, maybe,” he says with humor, making me think he’s actually proud