“What ifNational Geographicsaw your work and wanted to employ you exclusively?”
I stop following her, and she takes a moment to notice that I’ve lagged behind. Has she been talking to Leo? I narrow my eyes and study her, but she just lifts her brows and waits for my answer—which should come easily enough since I’ve been doing it for several years.
“I’d politely decline,” I tell her. I don’t add that I’d then ignore every subsequent offer by said publication owner.
“There must be something that would entice you to leave Urbino.”
“I’m leaving Urbino tomorrow, sosomethingdid entice me.”
She leans back against the church and watches me. I look around the piazza, finding nothing but glorious silence and empty tables. The need to kiss her shakes me so hard that I don’t even bother looking around before I lower my mouth to hers. She softens immediately, the wall behind her and my hands at her hips keeping her standing. She parts her lips just enough for me to try get my fill of the way she tastes. I want her so badly it hurts, but the sound of laughter forces me to pull away. Awareness sadly seeps back over me like I’m waking up from the most wonderful dream.
“Ava,” I whisper, stepping to her side and leaning against the wall so she’s hidden from the piazza’s view.
“Hmm?”
She turns her face toward me and I imagine mixing the color I see on her cheeks.
“Why do you want me to leave Urbino?”
She swallows—looks from my mouth to my eyes and back to my mouth.
“I pushed my flight back,” she says, ignoring my question altogether.
I let out a breath and feel every muscle in my body relax. That’s wonderful news. More time. More Ava.
“How long?” I ask.
Say a month. Say indefinitely.
“Three days,” she says, running a finger beneath my jaw. Her touch scrambles my thoughts as I try to process three days of extra Ava.
Seventy-two hours.
“That’s not enough,” I say.
She shakes her head and puts her hand in the center of my chest.
“It’s never enough.” She lifts onto her toes and kisses me softly, and it’s over before I have a chance to pull her against me.
“Show me the duomo,” she commands, heading back to the front of the church.
I rub at the place where she touched me beneath my jaw and turn to follow her, watching the way her ponytail brushes against the bare skin of her back. I’ve been there—felt that softness and can’t wait to go back.Madonn.I look to the sky and steel myself before following my temptation into the house of God.
QUARANTA
Ava
The three-and-a-half-hour ride to the Venice airport is a complete one-eighty from my first ride-along with James. One, I’m not spilling the secrets of my life to him as we curve through the hills topped with gorgeous villages that I wish we could stop at, stay the day, maybe even the month. And two, Tammy’s annoyingly symmetrical face appears over and over again between us, hovering over the center console like a pair of fuzzy dice hung from the rearview mirror. She messes with the air-conditioning, changes stations, asks James both impersonal and personal questions, and just generally seems to want to sit on our laps. For someone who has emphatically pushed me to jump into whatever this is with James, she appears to be making a maximum effort to keep our hands from grazing on the gearshift. Which makes me question what the hell is wrong with her?
But before I have a real chance to ask her, we are standing at the curb of the departures terminal at Marco Polo airport, holding onto each other as if I’m not coming home in less than a week.
“You know I love you, right?” she asks.
I nod into her shoulder.
“And if I could, I would always choose you over everyone in the world. You aren’t family, but you are the sister I’d choose.”
I push back from our hug and narrow my eyes on her face. The lines above her nose are so deep that she might get a headache.
