When the announcements are complete, the music starts again, and Camilo informs us that it is customary for us to dance with each other’s partners.
He’s a sweet a dancer as he is a man—not nearly as R-rated as Dean was the first time I danced with him, but not as prim and proper as Cooper was, either. As Camilo and I swing and dip together, I gather the courage to ask a question that’s been nagging at me for a long time.
“Sorry if this is rude, but I have to know. Your pack and the Jax Pack… you just seem to have so much… money.”
Thankfully, Camilo only laughs. “I can’t speak for those idiotas, but we earned our wealth, fair and square. We are a people of the water as much as the land. Have you heard of Celestial Tides, mija?”
I frown, trying to place the phrase. I vaguely recall seein
