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I answer with a glare that doesn’t have nearly the effect I’d like. He grins, then turns toward the house and heads inside, while Clara rests her head on his broad shoulder with Squish pressed against her chest.
The boat glides away from the dock, cutting through the calm water toward the restaurant on the far side of the island. I place my arm along the back of the seat and let my gaze drift to Charlotte. The sea breeze pushes her long strands over her shoulders as she looks out across the horizon. The setting sun paints her skin in shades of gold, turning her into something almost unreal. Her floral dress clings to every curve before falling just below her knees.
The sight of her sends a warm rush through my chest, my heartbeat quickening. I drum my fingers along the edge of the boat, trying to distract myself.
“I can’t believe this place is real,” she says. “It’s like we’re living inside a painting.”
She turns to me, smiling.
It’s a smile that lands harder than most threats ever could.
“I’m glad you like it here.”
Her gaze sweeps across the island again. “Do you come here often?”
I shake my head. “Not nearly enough.” My eyes travel across the water, over the coastline, the villas, and the yachts anchored in the distance. “But being here…” I peer around. “It reminds me I need to make more time to enjoy life.”
She tucks some strands behind her ear in a futile attempt against the wind. “That’s a good mindset to have.”
The boat slows as we approach a wooden dock tucked beside a stretch of white sand. Beyond it, a mountain of stone steps climbs toward the restaurant.
I stare up at them and sigh. “I should apologize in advance. I forgot how many stairs there are.”
The captain secures the boat to the dock, and I step onto the weathered planks before turning back to Charlotte. Holding out my hand, I glance down as Charlotte rests her palm against mine, my fingers closing around hers as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
She steps out of the boat, and I should drop her hand and gesture for her to walk ahead, but every cell in my body feels alive as my thumb brushes over her knuckles. I tighten my grip and lead her up each step until we reach our destination. The restaurant is hidden within a grove of lemon trees overlooking the water below. Strings of fairy lights hang overhead, casting a warm golden glow through the branches. Tables are scattered throughout the enclosure, private enough to feel secluded without sacrificing the view. Musicians sit on one side, playing familiar melodies my mother would surely appreciate.
“Signore Alarie.” Edoardo, the owner of Bellissimo Limone, greets us with a broad smile as he extends his hand. “It is good to see you again.”
“Edoardo.” I take his hand and incline my head. “It’s been far too long.”
“How is your mother?”
I release his hand and immediately reclaim Charlotte’s. “She’s good. Keeping herself busy as a grandmother.”
His brows lift. “Una nonna?”
I nod. “I have a little girl, Clara.”
“A beautiful blessing.” His smile widens before his attention shifts to Charlotte. “And who is this bellezza?”
“This is Charlotte,” I answer, stepping closer to her as our joined hands press between our sides. If he were thirty years younger, I might have found it necessary to remind him exactly who I am.
Edoardo’s gaze drops to our hands with a knowing smile. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” she replies, smiling.
He gestures toward a secluded corner of the restaurant. “Come. Your table is waiting.” The farther we move from the main dining area, the quieter the world becomes.
The table sits beneath a canopy of fairy lights, tucked away from the rest of the diners.
Private.
Just the way I requested.
Tall candles flicker atop a crisp white tablecloth, their flames dancing in the evening breeze. A stone wall lined with terracotta planters overflows with vibrant blue plumbagos, while lemon trees create a natural barrier between us and everyone else.
I pull out a seat for Charlotte, and once she’s settled, I slide the chair forward and take my own seat across from her.
