“Jenny and Jack? Shouldn’t it be Jack & Diane?” It was an old-school song that came on Capo’s old-man radio station.
“Jenny and Jack are the female and male names for a donkey.”
Capo was right. When Donkey II came to the Jenny he was after, he stopped and nuzzled her, making her get closer to the edge than the rider looked like he was comfortable with.
I turned around, taking a few pictures, always in awe that my feet where anywhere other than New York. “I can’t believe I’m here. In Greece.”With you.
“Me either,” he murmured.
His response and the sound of his voice made me turn to look at him. The look on his face echoed his tone: reflective.
“You’ve been here before,” I said. Though he hadn’t been to all the places we had, he had been to Greece.
He shook his head. “With you. My wife. You’re different.”
“I am.” I felt a little self-conscious suddenly. His comment was blunt compared to his tone before. “Different.”
“Different from what I expected for a wife,” he said. “As a wife.”
“Oh.”
He grinned. “You took to it faster than I thought.” Then he reached over and took my hand in his, bringing my knuckles to his mouth. Warm air flowed over them from the breath he took. “You’re a true companion,” he said in Italian.
You took to it faster than I thoughtwere the words from his mouth, but what I could’ve sworn I felt was,You took tomefaster than I thought.
Before I could respond—if I could; there was nothing fucking cheesy aboutthat—he nodded behind him. “Come. You don’t want the shops to close.”
With that, I said goodbye to Donkey II, the warmth of the sun and Capo’s words lingering in my bloodstream even after the sun went down.
10
MARI
Iwas curled up tight in a little cocoon made of fresh blankets and the softest sheets I’d ever felt. Capo was next to me, giving off body heat that made me feel even more comfortable than the bed. The cabin was on the cool side, but his warmth perfectly matched it. It made the air tepid, and my perfume and Capo’s cologne swam through it.
A smile lingered on my face, thinking of the wedding we’d crashed before we left Santorini. I didn’t think Capo would be game, but after it came out of my mouth, he shrugged, tightened his grip on my hand and pulled us into the crowd. I’d been wearing a thin maxi dress that flowed with the wind, soft against my skin, and I must have danced for hours. We left the island later than expected, and the smile was still stuck on my face. I fell asleep with it, my cheeks hurting, like all the muscles in my body, but in the best fucking way.
I was dreaming of standing close to the edge of the mountain, the ocean below me multiple shades of blue. With a gasp, I started to free fall, but I was yanked from the dream before I could hit the water.
“Storm,” Capo said.
I blinked at him, trying to get my eyes and my mind to adjust, not sure where that had come from. His grip on my arm was firm. I was halfway on the bed and halfway to the floor—Capo was the only force stopping me from colliding with it. He grabbed me more firmly, like he’d reached out right before I toppled over, and pulled me next to his body again.
It took a moment for me to wake up fully. In the background, a song I’d been listening to earlier was on. Not one of his, but mine. I’d been trying to memorize the lyrics to it.
Then I remembered what he’d said.
“Storm?” I repeated, my voice soft and sleepy sounding.
The cabin made a noise like it had joints, and they were straining. Then the yacht heaved, and the eerie creaking fell silent. I felt the swell of the—wave?—in my stomach, and my heart started to beat faster.
“We ran into it. Wasn’t expected.”
“Oh,” I said.
Capo had said the private island we were headed to was nine or so hours away. We were probably halfway there. Hopefully close enough that we could swim if we went under. I hadn’t felt the water under my feet since I’d stepped aboard, but I could feel it then. We seemed to be rising and falling.
“Ung!” The yacht seemed to tilt to the right, and I rolled right over Capo. He caught me again before I was introduced to the floor.
