I looked at Matteo.
No doubt.
It was what I wanted.
During lunch, since mom was talking little, I told her how Matteo had taught me how to ride a Vespa in Tuscany, how to ride a bike in an orchard grove, how to swim in the Mediterranean in Sicily, and how to drive a car.
She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “That’s really nice,” she said.
The excitement in my voice compared to the dullness in hers was so apparent, the table went quiet, and we said our goodbyes not long after. Magpie squeezed my shoulder before we left, a supportive touch, and Matteo drove us to our villa in the walled city.
It even had streets and everything.
No one said anything as we ventured deeper into the city. My thoughts were everywhere in the quiet. I wasn’t sure why mom was being as quiet as she was. I was craving my husband. Interested in Luca’s private city. And…a nap wouldn’t hurt.
All in all, emotional whiplash.
When we stopped in front of an Italian cottage that could have made the front page of an architect’s digest, I sighed.
“Am I staying with you?” Mom pulled on the headrest of my seat from behind, her fingers getting stuck in my hair.
“My grandfather has extended an invitation for you to use one of the guest’s properties, but if you’d rather stay with us, you’re welcome to,” Matteo said.
“I’d rather stay with my daughter,” Mom said, and it was curt.
Matteo nodded, and after he got out of the car, mom said to me, “What are we waiting for?”
“This,” I said when he opened my door and gave me his hand, helping me out of the SUV. Then he opened the door for mom, and she hopped out before he could offer her his hand.
If he noticed how she was acting, he hadn’t said anything to me, or even looked at me, communicating his confusion with his eyes. He set his hand on my neck and steered me toward the side of the cottage, where a vintage-looking convertible car was parked in the drive, a big red bow around it.
“Whoa!” I smiled. “What’s this about?”
“For you,” Matteo said.
“No way!” I ran to it, running my hand along the silver hood. It was a pure silver, more matte, with black tires. The top was down. “I love it, Teo! It’s the same kind of car we saw in San Diego—the one I told you I loved. Oh!” I started laughing. “You were paying attention.” When it passed us in San Diego, I’d asked him what kind of car it was. A 1968 Porsche 365.
“When it comes to you, I miss nothing.” He tapped his temple, then the spot over his heart.
“I know,” I breathed, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Teo. I love it and can’t wait to drive it.”
The connection between us started to move like a warm tide of stars, and I felt myself being pulled into his orbit. When I went to him, wrapping my arms around him, he wrapped me in an embrace that brought me home.
I peeked at mom. “What do you think?” I smiled.
She smiled at me, but then tapped the hood. “Are you going to beallowedto take it out of this private city?”
“I-ah,” I stammered, looking for the right words. “Are you tired?” I asked her.
“I am,” she said. “Canyoushow me to my room?”
The Italian cottage was even more perfect on the inside than it was on the outside. It was more quaint than ourcastelloin Tuscany, but I fell in love with how close we all would be as soon as my feet touched the floor. There wasn’t a thing I would change. It even had a private garden outside with numerous blooming flowers and a small vegetable and herb garden.
The kitchen…a chef’s dream. It was all updated, with a massive stovetop and a long, wide island with copper pots hanging over it. An expensive looking ceramic rooster was on the counter for decoration. Tiles that looked hand-painted depicted some type of religious scene.
I couldn’t wait to learn how to cook!
I hadn’t had a chance to learn yet. We’d left Tuscany before Scarlett and Apollonia had gotten their hands on me and showed me more than a thing or two in the kitchen. I wanted to learn all of Matteo’s favorite dishes. Scarlett promised to teach me.Oh! Tuscany.My chickens. I made a mental note to call Apollonia and find out how all the ladies were doing.
