Making You Mine
Authors: Elizabeth Reyes
MAKING YOU MINE
(The Moreno Brothers series #5)
By Elizabeth Reyes
Making You Mine By Elizabeth Reyes
Copyright © 2011 By Elizabeth Reyes. All rights reserved including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover art
©
Dundanim
Dedicated to three people. My parents who without your wisdom, support and unconditional love I would not be the person I am today. And to Tia Mague. You will forever be in my heart. Amor eterno, e inolvidable
.
The Hangover
It took a few minutes for the blurry room to come into focus. That’s when Salvador Moreno realized he wasn’t dreaming. The agonizing throbbing in his head was real. He turned his body slowly and very cautiously so as to not further the strength of the pounding. Something jerked in his stomach and his mouth began to water. “Oh, shit.”
He froze, willing the nausea to go away. After a few moments it did. He glanced around, assessing his predicament. Two things were clear: he was buck-naked and he wasn’t home. Then it dawned on him—the bachelor party. No, he wasn’t home. He wasn’t even in California. He was in none other than sin city. Las Vegas.
Sal sat up, inching his way to the side of the bed, careful not to stir up trouble in his stomach. He blinked hard when he saw them. As if it would make them go away, he blinked again—still there—a pair of panties—a very sexy pair of black panties. They adorned the floor just off the side of the bed.
Panicked, he tried to remember what happened the night before, but everything was a blur. One thing he
did
remember was that he and his buddies weren’t supposed to leave the casino. Not with the amount of bars and clubs readily available here at the Hard Rock Café, where they were staying. They could party their asses off without ever having to step foot outside the casino doors.
The only thing he recalled were the first few hours of drinking at the bar, then at a nightclub. After that, things got choppy. The round of shots kept coming. But he didn’t remember any girls. Hooking up was the last thing on his mind.
Glancing around the room for any other clues, he noticed the folded note on the nightstand. His name was hand-written on the outside. He stared at it for a second, before reaching for it. Almost afraid to open it, he held it and squeezed his eyes shut. The thrumming of the blood pumping through his veins continued in his ears.
Opening only one eye, he glanced at the note and flipped it open.
Went to get us some real coffee. Be back in a few! XOXO
.
His stomach did a flip and he thought he was going to be sick. Who the hell had he brought back to the room with him? He stood up and began to pace, running his fingers through his hair. Fuck the headache—what the hell had he done? But he couldn’t forget the nausea that easily. It was brutal and it came without warning.
He rushed to the restroom and threw up. With the water running while he rinsed his face he hadn’t heard the door open.
“How you feeling?”
Sal spun around, and the room spun with him, causing him to nearly lose his balance. It was a good thing he held on to the vanity for support, because his legs almost gave out on him when he saw her. This was even worse than what he’d imagined.
Three Months
EARLIER
As usual, Grace barely made it to class on time. Her morning interview had gone on longer than she expected. And for what?
Sorry but we’re looking for someone more experienced
. With her years of cooking in Mexico, she had more than enough experience. Who cared if she was still in culinary school? Some of the required classes she took were such a joke. Her cooking skills were far beyond them.
Joey leaned over as she took her seat. “Miss the bus again?”
She frowned while pulling her notebook out of her backpack. “No. The stupid interview went on too long.”
“Not good?”
She shook her head.
Joey reached over and squeezed her hand. “Well, don’t give up. It’ll happen. You’ll see.”
Grace didn’t even bother trying to smile. She was so frustrated. Joey was the only friend she’d made in culinary school in all three years she’d attended. She met him when she first started and he was now one of the most loyal and loving friends she’d ever had. At first, she had a huge crush on him, until she found out he was living with his long-time boyfriend.
When she met his boyfriend Taylor, she fell in love with him, too. Joey and Taylor were perfect for each other. Now they were her two best friends. Finally, she’d found friends her age to talk to and hang out with since she’d moved here from El Paso.
Just two years after she graduated high school, her mom met a trucker from California. Within a month, they were married and Grace and her younger sister Rose were hauled out to live in California. Neither had been happy about it, especially Rose, who was just about to finish middle school at the time. Since then her mom had divorced and remarried. She was on a roll with the truckers. Grace was now determined to make a name for herself and get her and her sister out of her step-father’s clutches.
She put on the reading glasses she’d bought at the drugstore on her way to class and turned to Joey. “What do think?”
“Since when do you need glasses?”
“I don’t, but I’m hoping they’ll make me look older. I have another interview after class.”
He gave her a look. “They’ll know how old you are as soon as they read it on your application.”
She tried not to smile, but she didn’t respond. Joey knew her too well. “Grace?”
“Hmm?”
“You didn’t lie about your age did you?”
She pretended to be completely absorbed in what she was reading, but the truth was that the glasses made her dizzy. Blinking hard, she continued to stare at the blurry notebook in front of her.
Joey nudged her. “I can’t believe you. You don’t think they’ll find out when you have to show them your I.D.?”
She pulled off the glasses that had begun to give her a headache and rubbed her eyes. “I don’t have to show them. It’s already filled in on the application. I just changed the year so they’ll think I’m twenty-three.”
“Oh, please!” He waved a hand at her. “Honey, you don’t even look your age, much less two years older.”
She turned to him disheartened. “Really?”
“That’s a good thing. Why would you wanna look older?”
“Because so far every stupid restaurant I’ve applied to, has taken one look at me and dismissed me, like there’s no way I could know what I’m doing. If I could just get my foot in the door and show them what I can do, I know they’ll give me a chance.” She pulled her long hair up in a bun and put the glasses back on. “How’s this?”
He smiled. “Adorable—but twenty-three—no way.”
Her shoulders dropped. “Well, I don’t care. I think I can do this.” She lifted her chin. “I’ll walk in there with confidence. All I need is one chance to prove myself. Then I can tell them the truth about my age and it won’t matter.”
Joey shook his head and started writing in his notebook. “Where are you applying now?”
She leaned over and whispered, “Moreno’s, in La Jolla.”
“Why are you whispering?” he whispered back without even looking at her.
Grace glanced at the girls in the front row of the class and continued to whisper, “Because,” she gestured to the girls with her pen. “they’re always going on and on about the guys that run the place.” She rolled her eyes. “The three
dreamy
brothers. I don’t want them to hear, and think that’s the reason I’m applying there.”
Joey turned to her. “Why
are
you applying there? That’s like thirty minutes away by a car. Even longer for you, since you’ll be taking the bus.”
“Are you kidding me? Do you know what working at a restaurant like that would do for my résumé? It’s totally worth the time it’ll take me to get there.”
Joey smirked. “Are you sure the
dreamy
Moreno brothers are not why you’re going all the way out there?”
She rolled her eyes again and immediately regretted it. With the glasses on it gave her a headache. She pulled them off, squeezing the bridge of her nose. “Trust me, I’m not looking to get swept up by some
Mr. Suave
. The way they talk about them, that’s what they sound like. With only one left on the market I’m sure he’s quite full of himself, probably loving all the attention, too. No thanks.”
“Sounds like you’ve been doing a lot of listening.”
“No,” she said, too quickly, then smiled at him and admitted, “Well, yeah, but only since I heard them mention how young the brothers are and how they run the show now—not their parents. I figured maybe they’ll be more open-minded than some of these older, unbending jerks I’ve interviewed with.”
