I admire the views as he works on his phone. There are certainly worse places to spend an evening.
“Hey, Giuseppe,” Austin says. “Could you pull over up there?”
Giuseppe obliges, and once the boat is against the side, Austin climbs out. “I’ll be right back,” he assures me.
Fifteen minutes later, I’ve learned all about Giuseppe’s family, including how his mom and wife fight like cats on a daily basis and how he has three sons and is trying to convince his wife for another baby so they can have a girl.
Just when I start to really consider whether Austin decided to leave me with Giuseppe for good, he appears around the corner, holding a big paper bag.
He hands it to Giuseppe while he climbs into the gondola. He gets all situated on the seat, then looks at me because I’m staring at him.
“What?” he asks.
“Have an enjoyable shopping expedition?”
He chuckles as he takes the bag from Giuseppe. “I promised you food and fireworks, right?” He breaks the little sticker holding the top of the bag together and pulls the sides apart, releasing an aroma that induces an enormous growl from my stomach.
He pulls out a container and opens it, releasing waves of euphoria only a creamy risotto could produce.
“I think I’m in love,” I say.
“Slow down, Mia,” Austin says. “We’re still getting to know each other.”
I shoot him a look as he hands me the food. We share risotto, gnocchi, and the most delicious cannoli I’ve ever tasted in the most beautiful place I’ve ever been. And yet, the second my appetite has been satisfied, my mind fixates on the conversation we never finished.
“So,” I say as we load the empty food cartons back into the bag, “should I expect you to ignore me once we’re back with the group?”
“Not ignore. Protect. You get why I was avoiding you now, right?”
“Yeah, I was just joking.”Not joking, and no, I don’t get it. I havesomany questions. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
“Of course.” He sets the bag down. “I think it’s for the best for both of us if we can keep things as simple and uncomplicated as possible on the tour.”
“Definitely.” So thisisn’tjust about me. But he’s right. Having things get weird between us—and everyone else, as a result—doesn’t sound fun. “So, if I’m hearing correctly, what you’re saying is that you liked things better between us when I pushed you into the pool.” I peer over the edge of the gondola. “How does a swim in a Venetian canal sound?”
“You push me in, you’re coming along with me.”
I wrinkle my nose at the sight of the discolored, mossy sides of the buildings that run along the canal. “You really would, wouldn’t you?”
“Absolutely. Or you could be nice to me… We can still be friends, you know.” His eyes search my face, pausing on my lips. It doesn’t feeljust friendly.“Just not more.”
“Gotcha.” Does this mean he wishes it could be more? Or is he letting me down easy?
Not like it matters. I mean, who am I kidding? Even if Austin and I agreed to be more than friends—whatever that means—what would I expect? The American dream? Suburban home with a white picket fence and neighborhood barbecues?
This is Austin Sheppard, for crying out loud. He has women throwing underwear on stage, issuing death threats based on dating rumors, and following his tour around continental Europe. For him, liking a woman might mean he wants to sleep with her and never see her again.
The light has started to fade, and Giuseppe is at it again, singingO Sole Mioat the top of his lungs. That’s probably why it takes a minute for me to realize it’s started raining again.
Austin and I exchange glances, then he looks back at Giuseppe, who waits until a natural pause in the song to put up a hand and say, “Five minutes,signore. Five minutes only.”
Try twenty-five minutes. I have to bust out Ye Olde Tiny Umbrella, and Giuseppe has to tell us where a blanket is. Which is how I find myself cuddled with Austin beneath it.
“Do you have another umbrella?” I ask Giuseppe.
His face screws up in an apology. “Scusa, signora, but no.”
Seems like a pretty huge oversight in an open-air boat. “It’s okay.”I’ll pretend snuggling with Austin Sheppardis an everyday occurrence.
