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“Yeah.”

“Better?”

He thinks about it for a second. “Different.”

I smile. “Diplomatic.”

“Learning.”

I laugh softly. “Is Italy a lot different from Wyoming?” I ask after a while.

“Little bit.”

“Just a little?”

“No horses.”

“There are horses in Calabria.”

He turns his head. “Good ones?”

I gasp. “Excuse me?”

His mouth twitches.

“You've been here less than a day and you're already insulting my homeland.”

“Asked a question.”

“You questioned the quality of our horses.”

“Sensitive subject?”

“Very.”

He looks back at the water and I catch the smile before he can hide it.

Asshole.

Another wave crashes against the shore and I rest my chin on my arms. “Did you really hate today?”

“No.”

I turn toward him. “That was very convincing.”

He shrugs. “Didn't hate it.”

“Jude Hawthorne, world traveler.”

“Don't push it.”

I laugh, then quiet settles between us again.

I look toward the stars. “Thank you for coming.”

He doesn't answer immediately. When I glance at him, he's already looking at me.

“Wanted to.”