The Spanish Love Deception by Elena Armas

Author:Elena Armas [Armas, Elena]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Published: 2021-02-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

I stood with my hands on my hips, getting a little lost in the palette of blues and greens that painted the view before me.

When people thought of Spain, they thought of jammed beaches under the merciless summer sun. They thought of tables loaded with jars of sangría, pans stuffed with paella, and a payload of tapas. They most likely thought of some dark-haired dude serenading the evening with impossibly masterful fingers stringing a guitar too. And in a way, they were not completely wrong. One could find that in Spain. But it was only a small part of what represented my home country. One that sadly didn’t even cover ten percent of what it offered.

The small city where I had come from stood on the most northern coast of the peninsula, wedged between the often fierce and ivory Cantabrian Sea and a range of emerald mountains.

Contrary to general belief, the country wasn’t bathed in sun throughout the whole year either. Particularly not the northern regions. Nope. The north of Spain was known for granting its inhabitants the chance to experience all four seasons in the span of a few hours, any day of the year. Which made possible for the vegetation to grow wild and lush, engulfing pastures and hills and creating an image very few thought of when it came to Spain.

So, yeah, summer wasn’t all that great in the north. But surprisingly, today the sky was clear, and the breeze from the sea was gentle. It brought me back to a time when, in days like these, we would try to make the most of it, as if our life depended on it. From dawn till dusk. Isabel and me. Las hermanas Martín. The Martín sisters.

Taking a peek at the group of people who had gathered today for the Wedding Cup, a little part of me wondered what was going on inside of Aaron’s head. What had been his first impression of the place that had seen me grow up? Of my people?

Introductions had gone better than good. If Spaniards were known for something, it was their openness and hospitality. Nobody had seemed to bat an eyelash at my fake boyfriend. Not more than the awkwardness of having a guiri—what we called tourists—and therefore having to use their rusty English.

Only the youngest generation of both the bride and groom’s families, their partners, and some of our closest friends were here. Except for our barbaric and free-spirited cousin Lucas, who no one knew where he had disappeared to this time. And the best man—otherwise known as Daniel, my ex, my first and only relationship, or the man my family believed I had never gotten over. He had not arrived yet.

“Aquí está mi hermana favorita.” My sister’s voice reached me a heartbeat before I was tackled from behind.

“I’m your only sister, idiot. Of course I’m your favorite.” I wrapped my hands around her forearms, which were resting on my collarbone.

“Forget about technicalities. You are still my fave.”

Sticking my tongue out, I looked at her over my shoulder.

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