Debbie’s hands stilled. Shadows darkened her eyes. “I don’t know what he’s going to do,” she said softly. “I’m just waiting.”

“I don’t understand,” Tina said.

“Sometimes I don’t either,” Debbie said. “But I think it has something to do with his being a policeman…and not getting married. What do you think?”

Tina threw her hands into the air and let loose with a string of Spanish. Debbie sat on the bar stool, stunned by Tina’s volatile outbreak as tomato juice ran down her elbows and onto the floor.

“You’re leaking,” Rick said, as he swiped a paper towel across Debbie’s arms and then down onto the floor. “And we can hear you in the other room, chiquita.” He leaned down and softened his criticism with a kiss.

Debbie looked down in surprise at the juice on her arms and jumped up, hoping that none of it had gotten on her clothing. She breathed a quick sigh of relief. She’d been spared.

“Now that you’ve cursed the four corners of the earth, my love, when can we expect our food?”

Tina made a playful swipe in Rick’s direction and shoved him away. “Get out of my kitchen. You eat when we’re through and not another minute before.” Then as he tried to make a graceful exit, she called after him, “Pour yourselves a little tequila. Soften up that fool you call a partner. Maybe my spicy cooking and this pretty woman will make him come to his senses.”

Rick’s eyebrows arched. His mouth pursed and a knowing expression came on his face. “Now, I know what set you off. You know what I’ve told you. Matchmaking doesn’t become you. Just let well enough alone, okay?”

Tina ignored him. “We eat in a few minutes. Go back to your Olympic games.”

Debbie smiled at the interchange between the pair. It was obvious from the way Rick touched Tina’s cheek and then her belly before he left that the love between them was strong. If only Cole could see, if only he’d let himself realize that marriages can work…and do.

*  *  *

The meal was finally served. And if Debbie thought the first bite was hot, she was totally convinced by the last one that Tina Garza had no spices left in her kitchen. She’d obviously used them all in her cooking.

“It was too hot?” Tina’s dark eyes mirrored concern as Debbie downed another glass of water.

“I’m not sure.” Debbie grinned. “But I think it took all the hair off my tongue.”

Enrique looked up from his meal and, for the first time since their arrival, took notice of the woman with his Uncle Cole. “You have hair on your tongue?” he asked with interest, and ran his finger across his own, testing the surface.