“Yeah, well, at least I don’t sell rotten peppers to people!”
It seemed like her entire group gasped.
Carmen leaned in close to me. “You’ve gone and done it now, chickadee. You basically pecked an eye out.”
“Say that to my face.” Peppina leaned in closer to me, daring me to say it again, but closer to her face for some reason.
I leaned in some, opened my mouth to repeat my words, but a chili pepper seemed to rise from the bin and smack her in the forehead. Surprised, she blinked. Surprised myself, I looked to my right, and Maggie Beautiful had a taunting smile on her face. I wasn’t sure how it happened, but chill peppers just started flying in all different directions. I got smacked in the mouth with one. The intensity of the flying peppers reminded me ofLa Tomatina, the tomato throwing festival in Spain, but the peppers were holding their own, in terms of not exploding.
The soldiers who were watching over us were trying to stop it, creating a wall, an invisible line between them and us, waving their hands.
“Ah! Ah! Ah! Signora!”
“Signora!”
“Per favore! Signora!”
“Mamma mia!Signora!”
The other soldiers were attempting to pick the peppers off the street, setting them back in the bins, but it seemed like they were only reloading ammo for the war.
I was so caught up in my target, Peppina, since I was her main target, too, that I thought I’d started to float when my feet were suddenly dangling above the ground. Rocco. All our men. They were lifting us in the air, about to turn in the opposite direction, going back to thecastello.
Rocco got caught in the crossfire, his temple taking a direct hit. I felt him still, like he had no idea how to respond to a pepper smacking him.
“I have been hit,” he said. “By a pepper.”
In the moment, I was too caught up in catching my breath to speak, but the sight of him and what he’d said had stuck. It would come back to me later.
Luca strode in, spoke to Peppina, making a motion to her bins—the peppers had hardly been bruised—and we left. Not before I noticed one of the men set money down on her stall.
At thecastello, the women all met in the kitchen, and when we looked at each other, we all started screeching with laughter. We weren’t laughing over the actual pepper fight. We were laughing at the looks on the men’s faces when they charged in to get us. These men were so serious, so their clueless reactions were a delight.
The entire time we prepared dinner, one of us would start laughing out of the blue, probably thinking about one of the men getting whacked with a pepper. That was when Rocco’s face and his, “I have been hit. By a pepper,” came back to me and I laughed so hard, I couldn’t catch my breath.
I had to be thankful, though—at least it wasn’t a candelabra. The peppers might have stung, but that thing…I was lucky I didn’t die.
After the pepper fight, it seemed like the men wanted to get us away from that area of the island and take us to a more secluded spot. We took boats further out to a private beach away from Aria Island. Another small island called Sirena Island. The restaurant delivered fresh seafood straight from the sea to the bobbing boats. There was a covered area where its patrons could sit on a bench under an awning while gazing out at endless miles of sea. Dolphins were plentiful. and they frolicked in the water like they were showing off.
It had been a long and sun-filled day. Rocco had gone swimming with me, sat on the beach to dry with me, ate seafood withme—we shared, feeding each other—and guzzledbirra. The cold hops seemed to be the perfect antidote to the overwhelming heat.
I’d never had a day like that one before—one that had felt so complete.
It was like I was still floating weightless in the water. “Monday Again” serenaded us quietly from the box speakers attached to the restaurant. My hair was crusted over with salt from the water, my skin tingling from the sun but feeling so soft as a warm breeze sighed over us, and I closed my eyes to the glare, resting my head against Rocco’s chest. His voice was in my ear as he spoke to his brothers at the table. My hand was on his thigh, and one of his arms was around me protectively as my fingertips stroked his skin.
We had slipped into such an easy rhythm, a rhythm that felt so natural, like we’d had it forever, yet each touch felt so new and exhilarating. It was the kind of thing that even the most secure of hearts fear the ending of even before it truly begins—that was how good it was.
Conversation and laughter completely died at the table.
My eyes slowly opened.
Romeo stared at Rocco, and Rocco stared at him. I looked between them, trying to figure out what had happened. Seemed like maybe Romeo had flung a nut at Juliette’s open mouth for her to catch, but it somehow hit Rocco on the forehead instead.
I squeezed Rocco’s arm, and his eyes glanced down to mine. He sighed, looking up. A second after, he opened his mouth. It seemed like Romeo wanted to look to the left, to the right, wanting confirmation from everyone else at the table that aliens hadn’t invaded his brother’s mind and forced him to open his mouth. But he went with it. He flung the nut, and Rocco’s mouth snapped shut over it.
Immediately, I started clapping. “Good catch, Fausti!”
He grinned at me and then kissed me on the forehead. “Anotherbirra,” he said, nodding to my empty bottle. Situating me in a different spot, he rose to grab it. As he passed Romeo’s table, he squeezed his shoulder. But there was hesitation therebefore he made contact. I watched him walk away, his powerful shoulders rolling. That slight bit of…fun... had unnerved him a bit.
