Her hand ran down my arm, her grip firm. Her chin lifted. “I’m not changing. There’s no way. This is it.” She sighed. “Enjoy it,” she whispered. “Just…enjoy me, Brando.”
Her words and the sound of her voice made my heart squeeze painfully in my chest.
I leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “I always do. Now,” I said, swallowing my pride, the need to keep her all for myself. “Where is your coat?”
Like the words had summoned her, the sound of heavy footsteps on cement met us. We both turned to find Eunice hustling toward us, waving a heavy coat—or was it a cloak?—that seemed custom-made for Scarlett’s gown. It threw off sparks of light from Eunice’s arms.
It seemed to compliment the look of mine too—a coat that could only be described as Phantom of the Opera-like. I’d refused to wear it at first, but all the women descended upon me like a bunch of hens fluffing up a rooster’s feathers.
You look so handsome, Brando. Straight out of a romance novel, but even better. Look at his hair. So soft and thick. Matteo is going to have hair just like him. I could run my hands through it all day. Black goes so well with his eyes, don't you think? Both dark, but the cloak still sets them off.
I had to check my pants to make sure I still had balls.
Scarlett had ultimately talked me into wearing it.
“You forgot your coat!” Eunice called out, her voice rising to make sure she was heard. “Be careful putting it on! You don’t want to get the bottom wet! Our girl will freeze.”
I stepped forward and took the thick cloak from Eunice, helping Scarlett into it. I thanked Eunice and she complimented the both of us, taking out an old film camera from her pocket and having us pose for a picture before we left.
Scarlett and I both laughed. Eunice had done that to Elliott all through high school when he attended dances.
Taking a piece of tissue from her other pocket, she dabbed at her eyes, then wiped her nose, watching us.
“Our masks?” Scarlett asked, gazing up at me.
“All taken care of. Unless you want to wear yours now.”
“No, better to wait.”
I scooped her up in my arms and she gasped, holding on tight to my neck.
“If you drop me in this water…” she threatened.
“Would I?” I smirked.
“You wouldn’t!”
“Ah, I don’t know…”
“Brando!” she screeched when I pretended to lower her. “It’syouwho will have to live with a wife who suffers from eye infections,or worse, for the rest of your LIFE! Pink eye is not pretty! And it’s contagious! I’ll rub it all over your pillow until kingdom come!”
Eunice waved her tissue like a handkerchief. “You two are so beautiful!” Wave. “Go! Have fun! Be good! Be mindful of all that water! Oy!”
Scarlett pulled closer, squeezing even tighter, ready to take us both down if I “accidentally” dropped her in the canal. Then I heard a definite sniff, her nose moving closer, so close that the coldness of it touched my hot skin and almost made me shiver.
“You’re fucking sniffing me.”
“Maybe.” She sighed, her breath smelling of mint, and did it again, this time pressing the tip even harder against my skin. “You smellsogood.”
“Describe it.” I looked down at her.
“Ohh.” She almost sounded drunk. She sniffed me again. “The sun—the beach—maybe a hint of citrus, orange.” Sniff. Sniff. “Whiskey. Or perhaps a really, really good bourbon.” Sniiiif. “And something unquestionably pure male.Eau de musk.”
My laughter echoed through the night as I stepped into the boat, making it rock. She groaned, hiding her face, afraid we were about to topple over.
Even the gondolier gave me a curious look—better be stable on those legs, ah?his silent statement screamed. Then he shrugged it off, readying his long oar for the ride.
Setting her down in one of the seats, covered in red leather and fringed with a fluffy crimson fabric around the headrest, I took the one next to her.
