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He looks at the stack of books. “Seven.”

“What?”

“You picked up another one.”

I look at the books. Apparently I did.

Oops.

“Damiano.”

His eyes soften. “They make you smile.”

The simple certainty in his voice steals every argument from my mouth.

“I want to make you happy, vita.”

My heart squeezes.

Hard.

“There are worse things to spend money on than making you happy.”

For a second I can't speak. The cashier hands me the bag, but all I can do is look down at the books and then back at him.

Nobody has ever paid attention to me like this before.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Anytime, vita.”

Then he takes the bag from my hand before I can carry it myself.

Because apparently buying me books wasn't enough. He has to carry them too.

“Where are we going now?” I ask as we leave the bookstore.

Damiano glances over his shoulder. “You ask too many questions.”

“You don't answer enough of them.”

“See?” He points at me. “Too many questions.”

I roll my eyes.

His hand finds mine immediately.

Like it's the most natural thing in the world.

The Vespa ride is shorter this time.

A few minutes later we pull up near the lake. The skyline stretches across the water, the buildings softened by the spring sunlight until the city looks almost painted instead of built. Trees covered in blossoms move gently in the breeze, and two white butterflies settle on a patch of flowers nearby.

I sigh happily. “I love spring.”

“That's exactly why I brought you here.” He nods toward the trees in bloom.

We settle down on a patch of grass overlooking the water.