Her Christmas Wish. Cindi MyersЧитать онлайн книгу.
future is going to look like,” Eric said. “The same as my parents’ and my brothers’ and sisters’ before me—I’ll marry a nice girl from the neighborhood, have a bunch of great kids, though maybe not as many as my parents, and spend my weekends playing ball with the children, barbecuing in the backyard and working on projects around the house.”
“Sounds nice,” Marty said.
“It will be nice. It’s a good life. But first I have to get through med school and internships.” When he was Dr. Sepulveda, his family would see he’d made the right decision.
Maddie rolled her eyes.
“What?” Eric asked.
“You guys,” she said. “You’ve got everything all neatly planned out, but life doesn’t always work that way. Sometimes the right person comes along when you least expect it.”
“Like you and Hagan,” Eric said.
“Well…neither one of us was interested in getting married and planning a future together when we first met,” she said.
“What changed your mind?” Marty asked.
“I guess love did. We went from not wanting to think about the future, to being unable to imagine one without each other.”
“You’re reading way too much into this,” Eric protested. “I saw a girl I liked and invited her to a barbecue. That’s it.”
“I’m just saying, you can never be sure about these things,” Maddie said. “I’ve never seen you this excited about a girl you just met.”
“You haven’t known me that long, either.” Yes, he was attracted to Alina, and he wanted to know her better, but no way was he ready to settle down. He and Alina could have some fun together, and right now, that was all he needed.
Chapter Two
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to come with you?” Marissa asked as she and Alina headed toward Eric’s house Sunday afternoon. “After all, I wasn’t invited.”
Alina checked the directions Eric had scribbled down for her and flipped on her right blinker. “I can’t go to a barbecue at a strange house, with people I don’t even know, alone,” she said.
“I guess not.” Marissa nibbled her lower lip. “Do you think there will be other cute guys there?”
“How should I know?” Alina made the turn, then slowed, reading street signs. Fall had come to the Gunnison Valley in a blaze of yellow, orange and red. Aspens and cottonwoods painted the landscape in fiery color, and already scarecrows and pumpkins and other decorations were beginning to show up on front porches.
Eric’s neighborhood was one of older, comfortable homes, mixed with newer residences. Children played in front yards and raced bicycles down the street. Alina smiled at a dark-haired little boy who waved at her from the end of his driveway.
“Maybe Eric has brothers who are even better-looking than he is,” Marissa said. “Though that’s hard to imagine. The man is hot.” She made a show of fanning herself.
“He’s okay,” Alina said. Her grandmother would have warned she’d be struck down by lightning for telling such a lie.
“Okay?” Marissa laughed. “Croatia must be full of amazing men if Eric only rates okay.”
“Maybe Eric is a little more than okay.” A thrill raced through her at the words. Eric was most definitely special if her initial attraction to him was any measure. If he were blond getting together with him would make a better story, considering Baka Fania’s prophecy, but then, life seldom worked out so neatly.
Alina told herself she was too modern to believe in old superstitions, but doubt pinched at her whenever she thought of her dear grandmother. Baka Fania had never been wrong about any of her predictions. She had foreseen each of Alina’s sisters’ husbands: the big Russian her eldest sister, Radinka, had wed, and the redheaded Scottish businessman her other sister, Zora, had married. Zora had laughed when Baka Fania had announced she would spend the rest of her life with a redhead. Very few Croatians had red hair. “Besides, I hate redheads,” she’d protested.
But the very next year, Baen McKay had come to town, and Zora had known immediately that he was the one. “You can’t fight what was meant to be,” she told everyone, and they all agreed that happiness could be found if you paid attention to Baka’s predictions.
If Baka Fania said Alina’s husband would be blond, where did that leave handsome, charming, dark-haired Eric Sepulveda?
It left him safe, she decided. She wasn’t going to marry Eric, only have a little fun.
“I think you missed the turn.”
“What?” Alina snatched the directions from Marissa’s hand and studied them. “It says to turn on Clarkson,” she said.
“Clarkson is about a block behind us.” Marissa pointed behind them.
Grumbling to herself, Alina turned the car around and headed back. She knew the right house the moment she turned onto the street, which was crowded with cars, trucks and vans on either side of the low brick ranch on the left side of the cul-de-sac. She pulled her compact car into a space half a block away and shut off the engine.
“Maybe we should have brought something with us,” she said as she studied the people who streamed into the house. Many of them carried coolers or covered bowls or platters.
“It’ll be okay,” Marissa said. “There are lots of people here. I bet they’ll have plenty.” She opened the door, but when Alina didn’t move, she paused. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to come in?”
“I’m a little nervous, that’s all.” Ever since they’d set out this morning, a curious energy had raced through her body, leaving every sense hyperalert. She couldn’t shake the feeling that today was really important—the kind of day that could change her life forever. Marissa might not understand, but Alina came from a family that respected intuition. When you had a grandmother who was known as a seer, people in her culture took it for granted you had a few gifts of your own.
“Come on,” Marissa said. “You can’t just sit out here. The sooner you get past the introductions, the sooner we’ll start having fun.”
“You’re right.” Nervous yet wanting to know what lay ahead, she followed Marissa across a yard strewn with children and toys. They followed a group of people through the open front door. She had a brief impression of comfortable furniture and rooms full of people before they emerged into the sunlit backyard. Mexican music blared from a radio balanced on a card table on the deck, while a group of men gathered around an enormous barbecue pit in a back corner. Voices spoke in Spanish and English, and the air was redolent with the aroma of smoking meat and spices.
“Alina!”
Eric strode toward her. Dressed in faded jeans and a black polo shirt, he was easily one of the handsomest men in attendance. He caught and held her gaze as he moved toward her, and briefly she forgot about everything except him and her wildly pounding heart.
“I’m glad you could make it,” he said. He surprised her by pulling her close for a quick, strong hug.
“Thank you.” She carefully—and somewhat reluctantly—extricated herself from his embrace. “It’s good to see you, too.”
The sharp pain of Marissa’s elbow in her side reminded Alina they weren’t alone. “This is my friend, Marissa Alvarez,” Alina said. “She’s a nurse at the hospital. I hope you don’t mind I brought her along.”
“No, that’s great. This is my friend Marty Padgett.”
For the first time Alina noticed the man standing next to Eric. She stared at him, and might have stopped breathing for a second. Marty was tall and broad and very blond, with a face like an angel.
“Hi,