With a smirk, she drinks the last sips of her coffee before wiping her mouth with the napkin.
“Yup.”
When she stands up, my attention diverts to her party dress. Guilt sneaks up on me. “We could stop by your grandparents’ villa for you to change clothes.”
Chiara’s expression immediately turns dark. “No. It’s out of the way. The dress is fine. I wouldn’t mind buying ballerina flats though. These Gucci shoes aren’t the best for a touristic outing.”
She eyes the high-heeled footwear, and I wince in sympathy. They look like a torture device.
Chiara found more comfortable shoes at a small boutique in the hotel. I paid for them, despite her protests, but I wouldn’t back down on that.
“Doesn’t your cousin need his car back?” I ask her once we’re inside the vehicle.
“Nah. I bet he’ll be nursing a hangover by the pool the whole day. Besides, there are plenty of cars he can borrow if he needs to go somewhere.”
Chiara insists we don’t need the GPS since she knows the area well, so I gladly let her be my guide. Her sexy voice is much better anyway. Instead of leading me toward the most direct path to our first destination, she takes me on a scenic drive through the hills of the Tuscan countryside.
We stop by one of the many Chianti vineyards first, where we take a stroll among grapevines, olive groves, and wine cellars before partaking in a traditional Tuscan lunch, which consists of more cured meats and delicious bread. When asked where we wanted to sit, there was no question about outside, despite the high temperature. How could we deprive ourselves of the breathtaking view of the Sienese hills? I honestly could stay here forever, but not because of the scenery or the food. The company is everything. I’ve caught myself staring at Chiara several times when she was distracted, and every single time, there’s been a sharp twist in my chest.
I’m a grown man. I shouldn’t be feeling whatever the hell I’m feeling, but fuck if I’m not getting drunk on this euphoria.
We head to San Gimignano next, where we roam the maze of cobbled streets and small squares. Chiara insists we grab a gelato before we walk between San Gimignano’s famous fourteen towers.
The final stop is Pisa, and I go full-on tourist mode there, taking several pictures while pretending to be holding the leaning tower.
The day goes by too fast, and when we’re on our way back to Siena, I can’t help but feel a little glum. I turn to Chiara, finding her staring out the window.
“Did you have fun today?” I ask.
She glances at me and smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, loads. I’ll remember this day forever.”
“Me too.” I reach for her hand, bringing it to my lips to kiss the back of it. “Spend the evening with me in Florence.”
“What?” Her big doe eyes turn as round as saucers.
“My flight doesn’t leave until the afternoon. I can bring you back in the morning.”
She blinks a couple of times before she shakes her head. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
Chiara’s doubtful tone almost makes me stop the car so I can show her how much I want to spend another evening with her. This has nothing to do with the amazing sex. I don’t want to say goodbye just yet. I’m not ready.
“Yes it is. You don’t want to? You won’t hurt my feelings if you say no.”
Bullshit.
Her breathing seems to stop. She bites her lower lip, really making me want to pull the car over.
“Okay. Why not? I love Florence.”
Fuck yeah. I can’t help the smile that appears on my face. My heart is going a hundred miles an hour. I feel like a fucking teenager who just asked the girl of his dreams out and she said yes.
I wish I was younger and didn’t have this rotten crap fucking up my life. I’m not even officially divorced yet, and at the rate things are going, it will be a long and nasty process. I can’t bring Chiara into that mess. Shit, if it weren’t for that, I would say to hell with rule number two and beg to know everything about her. But that’s not the case, and wishful thinking is just a waste of time.
After returning to the hotel in Siena to collect my stuff, I ask Chiara what we should do about Max’s car.
“He won’t mind if we borrow it for another night. Besides, I need a car to get back to the villa.”
I’m not crazy about this arrangement. I hate taking advantage of anyone, so I ask Chiara to call her cousin regardless. She does so with a roll of her eyes, putting the conversation on speaker so I can hear the answer from the horse’s mouth.
“Yeah, man. It’s cool to keep the car for another day. It gives me the perfect excuse to borrow my uncle’s Ferrari,” Max says.
Chiara gives me a haughty look that says “I told you so” before taking the call off speaker mode and walking away to continue her conversation in private.
I watch her for a few seconds, noticing how tense she becomes. She keeps her voice low, even though I wouldn’t understand what she’s saying anyway. A couple of minutes later, she rejoins me, but the smile on her face is forced.
“Is everything okay?”
“As okay as it can be when my mother is involved. But let’s not talk about her. That would break rule number one, anyway.”
I reach out, pulling her into my arms to kiss the crook of her neck. When she melts against my chest, a sense of protectiveness takes hold of me. I wrap my arms around her body tightly, and I can’t help thinking how right this moment feels.
Chiara pulls away first and stares into my eyes.
“Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.”
