Chapter 24

I smile atthe Swedish couple raving about the olive oil, but my mind keeps wandering to Lorenzo. I haven't seen him since I left his bed this morning, after the best sex of my life. Not that I expect him to blow off work and hang out in bed with me all day, but I was hoping he'd at least pop into the shop and give me one of his panty-dropping grins. Get a grip, Summer. He runs an extremely busy olive farm. You're keeping it casual. He warned you his work would take priority, which is why he wanted to be friends.

But I can't help smiling as I think about him. I like him, a lot. I have another month left here, and then what? I glance at Nina, who is busy applying lip liner in the mirror. She would shit a brick if she knew Lorenzo and I had slept together.

The Swedish couple gives me their address to ship them some olive oil. They are our last appointment for the day, and it's my turn to stay until six, helping in Stella's gift shop after they leave. I clean up the dishes and fill the sink with warm, soapy water.

"Do you have plans tonight, Nina?"

"Sí, I'm going to dinner with Angelo."

I cringe, wondering if she has any idea he invited me on a getaway next weekend. Dr. Bianchi definitely likes to keep a couple of women in his pocket, and I'm relieved I dodged that bullet.

"Why do you keep staring off into space, smiling? It's weird." A sour expression mars her pretty face.

"Can't a girl just be happy?"

"Dà fastidio—it's annoying."

I wipe down the counter, ignoring her. I refuse to let her cloud roll over my sunshine. She and Angelo deserve each other. "Have fun on your date, Nina."

"Grazie, I will." She collects her things, waving her hand in the air on the way out. "Arrivederci."

I dry the dishes before heading over to Stella's shop. For the thousandth time today, I wonder what Lorenzo is doing and if he's been thinking about me as much as I've been thinking about him.

Waking up in his arms, his tongue and lips on my skin, was better than any fantasy I'd conjured up in my sex-deprived brain. We didn't make plans this morning to reconnect today when he dropped me off at my house, and now I'm wondering if I should text him again. Jesus, it's only been eight hours. Don't seem so needy.

"Bongiorno, Summer." Stella smiles at me.

"Bongiorno, Stella. What can I help with this afternoon?"

"If you can unload the box over there." She points to a box by the Italian dishware.

"Certo."

"Splendido. And can you go tell Fiore her eight-o'clock reservation canceled? Grazie." The keys on her wrist jingle as she walks away to help a customer looking at Fiore's cookbooks. I head back to the kitchen and wave hello to Fredo, who is covered in flour. He points to the galley where Fiore is stirring something in a bowl.

"Ciao, Fiore!" I call out. She looks up and smiles.

"Ciao, Summer! Have you come to help me cook?" Her eyes twinkle with mischief.

I laugh and sidle up next to her. "Oh, no, that would probably make your customers never come back. Mmm, that smells wonderful. What is it?"

"I'm making strawberry shortcake. It's my brother's favorite."

"Oh, that's nice. Is he around?" I glance over my shoulder, hoping he's standing there.

"He's been tied up in meetings all day."

I lean against the counter and cross my arms. "Your mom wanted me to tell you your eight p.m. canceled."

"That's a relief. We're overbooked tonight as it is." She pours the batter into a pan, her lip curling into a smile. "Are you looking for someone?"

My ears burn at being caught staring out into the courtyard. "Just waiting for someone."

"That someone wouldn't happen to be my brother, would it? Did you find his apartment okay?"

"Yes, I mean, no. I didn't…go out." I chew my thumbnail, uncertain whether I should tell Fiore about last night.

"Ah, I see. That's a shame." She grins knowingly while she mixes batter in a bowl.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Certo. What is it?"

"When you go out with an Italian man, is it normal for them not to call you or come see you the next day?"

She chuckles. "I wouldn't know, Summer…"

"Oh crap, I'm sorry."

She swats my side. "I'm teasing you. Sí, questo è normale."

"What do you think the protocol for dating an Italian man is? You know, if you were interested in them." Oof, I sound like the biggest idiota. I scrub my hands down my face. "American men contact you the next day…well, the polite ones do and ask if you can go out again."

Fiore thinks for a moment before shoving the batter into the oven. She turns to me and folds her arms over her chest, checking her hip into the counter. "If he doesn't have the testicoli to call you the next day, then he isn't worth two tortellini."

I nod at her sage advice. "You're right. Grazie."

"And if we're talking about il mio stupido fratello Renzo, then I'll make sure he has food poisoning for the next decade. Sí?" Fiore smiles brightly and I can't help but giggle.

"Uh, let's hold off on that plan for now."

"If you're sure…"

I wave and hurry back to Stella's shop before Fiore can pry into Lorenzo and me or prematurely give him food poisoning.

‘Summerita! It's yourmother. I haven't heard from you in a while and I wanted to check in. Weren't you supposed to be back by now? I know Italy is keeping you busy. You're probably knee-deep in grapes at a vineyard somewhere. Anyway, I had to borrow your car, but don't worry, I put gas in it. Oh and I got a note from your HOA, but nothing I can't handle. Talk to you soon.'

I stare at the phone after listening to Barbara's message. Did she not remember our conversation yesterday? I replay it and listen to her voice. She's upbeat and sober as far as I can tell.

"Ugh!" I fall face-first down on my bed, groaning. Cara warned me it was a bad idea to let her live at my place, but I didn't listen. I keep waiting for her to change, to grow up and be a responsible adult. It's a hard pill to swallow, knowing she might never be. I made a promise to Grams when she was sick that I would always keep an eye out for Mom, but when do I put my needs first? When will I ever be free from feeling responsible for her?

I should leave Italy and go take care of stuff back home, but that's the last thing I want to do. I've just found Lorenzo and I'm happy.

There's a light tap on the doorframe. I quickly pull myself together and sit up.

"Do you always moan face-down on your bed?" Lorenzo asks, leaning against the open door, looking fucking spectacular in a navy suit with his white-collared shirt open, revealing his tan chest.

"What are you doing here?"

His smile slips a little, a show of hurt flashing in his eyes before they shutter. "I wanted to see you today, tesoro. I can leave if you don't want company."

"Sorry, I do." I take a deep breath and blow it out. "I'm just frustrated. I'm glad you're here."

He takes off his jacket, folds up the sleeves of his shirt, and sits down next to me. He smells woodsy and clean. I want to crawl into his lap and beg him to make me forget about my problems back home. Instead, I straddle his lap and lightly kiss his lips. The freedom to be able to is an adrenalin rush.

"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to see you today. We had some issues in Spain, so I was in meetings all day."

"What kinds of issues?"

"Worker strikes, that kind of thing. Hopefully it's resolved now. My brother will let me know in the morning." He leans in, returning my kiss. He looks as tired as I feel. "I've missed you so damn much today." He cups my cheek. "Want to tell me why you were wallowing?"

I'm embarrassed to tell him what a disaster my mom is, and how much heartbreak and anger she causes me, so I swallow it down. "Worker strikes back home." I smile ruefully and bump his shoulder. "Nothing I can't handle."

His brow furrows as he skates his hands up my thighs. "Do you need to go home?"

"No," I say too quickly. "No, it will be fine. I'm not leaving Italy. You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

His grin is infectious as he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. "Bene. I have something to show you." He nudges my side and I slide off him. He stands up and reaches his hand out to help me up. He pulls me into his arms and gives me a gentle hug.

My heart stutters in my chest, the hug being just what I needed. Tears threaten to spill as my nose burns. I stare at his throat, wondering if he'd mind if I unbuttoned his shirt a little more so I could run my fingers over his silky skin. He's the perfect distraction to take my mind off Barbara.

He grazes his lips against mine. "Summer?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you have clothes hanging on the wall?"

Shit."Oh, that. Um…remember when I said I was redecorating? It's no big deal. Let's go."

He steps out of our embrace and walks over to the t-shirt and lifts it off the nail and blinks. "Tesoro, why is there a hole in the wall as big as my hand?" He quickly surveys the three other shirts I hung to cover up more damage. "Please tell me these aren't all holes."

"They aren't all holes."

He drops my favorite tee and walks over to another and lifts it off.

"Uh…so about that. I mean, who knew this plaster wouldn't hold a picture? I guess I should have known, considering it couldn't hold a door…I was going to fix it, but I don't know how to patch drywall."

"What picture?" he growls, walking over to look under another shirt.

"I was in the art gallery under your apartment, and I bought a print because, holy cow, those paintings are pricey. And I wanted to hang it in here because I love it so much, but every time I'd put a nail in the wall, it would crumble."

His eyes crinkle. "So, after the second time with little success, you decided to keep trying?"

"Well, by that point, I was frustrated."

"Where's the picture?"

I point to the picture leaning against the wall by the window. He walks over to it and stares at it for a moment. "This one is your favorite?"

"Yes. I love how the artist uses the colors, and his brushstrokes are so powerful. It reminds me of the farm. It's kind of like the one in your apartment."

"Sí. That's the old tree on the property." He looks up and smiles.

"I knew it!"

"Hmm, it's interesting that's the one you chose." He looks at the picture for a moment and turns abruptly. "Ready to go?"

"You're not mad about the walls?"

"I'm not happy about the walls, but they can be fixed like everything else in this house." He kisses my temple before guiding me downstairs. "No more redecorating, okay?"

"Sí, okay."

Lorenzo pulls theMaserati into his designated parking space at the farm.

"Why are we here?" I ask.

He glances over at me and winks. "You'll see." We walk hand in hand toward the olive grove. "I asked Fredo for a little help," Ren says.

"What kind of help?" I carefully pick my way in my sandals as we walk through the rows, nightfall coming on fast as the dusky skies sink into the horizon.

"Remember the oldest tree on the property where I like to come and think? The one in the painting?"

All I can do is nod. I'm awestruck by the scenery in front of me. The old tree is lit with what has to be a thousand fairy lights. It's dazzling and spectacular, and I'm humbled he planned this all just for me. I grab his hand and squeeze it. A blanket is spread underneath the canopy with a picnic basket.

"Lorenzo, this is so beautiful."

"I thought we could have a picnic dinner under the stars tonight."

"How did you get the lights out here?"

"Magic." He beams. "And a generator."

I chuckle and sit down on the blanket. He follows suit, removing his socks and shoes. He opens the picnic basket and takes out two boxes. "Are you hungry?"

"Starving," I admit. He uncorks a bottle of red and pours me a glass. "I can't believe you did all this. I've never been on a picnic before."

"How is that even possible? You never went on one when you were little?"

"No, I didn't have the most conventional childhood."

"Tell me about it." He passes me cutlery and a box. Fiore's cooking smells mouthwatering as I lift the cardboard flap and my stomach clenches in anticipation. I don't really want to think about my mom at this moment, so I give Lorenzo the quick version. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.

"I've never met my dad. My mom had me when she was a teenager. We lived with my Grams." He looks up when I pause and the warmth shining in his eyes makes me feel safe. "My mom left when I was three and was in and out of the picture. Grams is the one who raised me, and when she died a couple years ago, I lost my entire world."

"I'm so sorry, tesoro. I was very close to my Nonno Rossi, so I understand the loss."

I shrug. "So yeah, that's my story in a nutshell."

"Where's your mom now?"

"In California. She wasn't around much growing up, but I see her more now that Grams passed away." I furrow my eyebrows. I see her when she needs something from me. I fold the hurt and tuck it away in that deep, dark place no one can get to. "Grams was too busy working at the diner to help make ends meet, so no, we never had picnics, but I have lots of other fond memories of her." I twist my fork in my pasta. "Family is so important here. I didn't grow up with cousins or siblings, aunts or uncles. I was a latchkey kid that had to become independent at an early age. It was pretty much just me and Grams…and now it's just me." I shrug. "My best friends Cara and Damien are more family to me than my own mother."

Lorenzo glances at me. "Famiglia is important, but not in the way you are thinking. It's not about how many cousins you have, or aunts or uncles. Famiglia are those you can count on no matter what. Through thick and thin, through quarrels and times of peace, famiglia will always be that rock you can cling to. La mia famiglia è la tua famiglia. My family is yours." He reaches over and gently brushes his thumb down my cheek.

"Grazie, Ren. That means so much to me." I take a deep breath. "You asked me when we first met, why am I here…I don't really know, to be honest. I came to Italy to find adventure, possibly fall in love." I blush at my admission and glance over at him. He gives me a small smile.

"I felt like something was missing in my life, like I was stuck in the same old monotonous routine," I continue. "I was scared life was drifting by and I hadn't truly lived. Grams was always living paycheck to paycheck. I didn't want to be like that. I chose a safe, honestly boring life for myself. Coming to Italy was the one wild thing I allowed myself. And…"

"And?"

"And…I think being here has taught me to appreciate the beauty surrounding me. Not just the landscape, but the people, the language, the food." I smile, setting my fork down in the box. "I was lost when I came here, but Italy has shown me what happiness could look like."

Lorenzo moves the picnic basket and our boxes and pats the blanket. He lies on his side and I mirror him, resting my head on my hand.

"Sorry," I say, "I didn't mean for this night to be about deep discussions."

"I don't mind. I'm getting to know you. I want to know more about you."

"What was your childhood like here?" I ask.

"It was moments of pure joy interspersed with hard work and school. My family is lucky we never struggled, and we had the best education. We had support from my grandparents and never felt unloved. But with privilege comes responsibility. From a young age, my brother and I were groomed to take over the family business. It was our destiny. My father oversees a lot still, but he wants to fully retire in the next year. So, I've been selected to take over the Italian Rossi business while my brother controls Spain, and my father's younger brother, Lucian, runs California, but he wants to retire soon, so Gio is in line to take it over. Although, he needs to mature a little before that happens."

I laugh. "Yes, Gio likes to party."

Lorenzo chuckles and nods in agreement. "Growing up here was wonderful, but there was always that heavy weight of responsibility. ‘People are watching you, Lorenzo, make a good example. Don't disappoint us, don't screw up'." He sighs. I comb my fingers through his hair, his dark lashes framing smoky green eyes. "It's in my blood to grow olives. I made a promise to my nonno to carry on the Rossi name and I intend to keep it. It's tradition…one I take seriously. It's one reason my ex, Gabriella and I, broke off our engagement."

"Ah, Gabriella."

"You're not anything like her." He looks at me with a tenderness that makes my heart do funny things. He lies on his back and closes his eyes. "Fiore and Gabby were like oil and water. Fiore thought she was all wrong for me. Turns out she was right. Gabby didn't understand the responsibility I held for the company, the promise I made to Nonno. She wanted me to drop everything and cruise the Med or go with her friends to Cannes for a week. She didn't know the meaning of hard work because her father gave her everything. That wasn't my reality. Truthfully, I was hoping she'd want to settle here and start a family, but that wasn't in the cards for her."

"Do you want a family with loads of children?" I smile, but my stomach clenches. Something akin to jealousy fires up inside of me as I think of the unknown woman he'll marry and produce a minivan of children with.

He turns his head and squints. "Do you want a family with loads of children?"

I pause a beat, thinking of my relationship with Barbara and how I would be such a different mom if given the chance. "I want a family. I don't think I'm able to have loads of children. I'm thirty-six, so…"

"Hmm, there's still time. You could have un bambino every nine months and have five by the time you're forty, possibly forty-one, if you need a quick break." He chuckles as my eyes widen in horror.

"That sounds awful." I laugh and lie on my back to stare up at the night sky.

His fingertips brush against mine. "Tell me what makes you happy, tesoro."

"Hazelnut gelato always makes me happy."

"Mmm, noted. Fiore's strawberry shortcake makes me happy."

"I know. Your sister likes to point out your favorites to me."

His fingers slide against mine and he pulls my hand to his chest, his heartbeat thumping steadily. "Really, and what else did she say I like?"

"Bolognese, Italian red wine, olives…maybe, me?"

He props himself up on his elbow and runs his hand over the curve of my hip, his eyes dropping to my lips. "Definitely you. Ti voglio bene."

He captures my lips in a tender kiss that makes my toes curl.

"Le vere storie d'amore non finiscono mai. You've bewitched me, body and soul." He pulls away, but I grab his shirt and guide him back to me, wanting more than just a sweet kiss.

He slides his tongue leisurely over mine, his hand gliding up my thigh under my dress, leaving a trail of goosebumps. He squeezes my thigh, groaning against my lips. Sitting up, he gently peels down the top of my sundress. He cups my breasts and leans down, slowly sucking on the tender bud, making me ache. He lavishes the other as my skin flushes with desire.

"You drive me crazy…pazzo." His lips trail up my neck as I arch into him. "Wild, Summer."

"In a good way, I hope."

"In a I will die a sudden death if I can't be inside you right now, kind of way. Ho bisogno di te. I need you."

"I don't want you to die," I murmur, his hands sliding up my thighs under my dress. He pushes my panties aside, and I moan as his finger dips into my wet heat.

"So ready for me, cara mia. Così caldo e bagnato. So hot and wet," he says, pumping his finger. He adds another. His fingers move expertly, bringing me close to the edge.

"Oh God, I'm so close, Ren."

I whimper when he drags them out of me and tugs off my panties. He sits back on his heels and gazes at me splayed out underneath the twinkling lights. "Bellissima."

He spreads my thighs before I can blink, and his mouth is on me in one swift move, his tongue swirling against my soft folds. My fingers drive into his hair and I unabashedly yank him closer. I want to break apart into a million pieces and have him put me back together again.

I'm jumping from one plateau to the next, building upward until I hurdle off the cliff and burst like a firework. My orgasm comes swift and hard as I cry out his name. He sucks on me until I come all the way down off my high. Unzipping his pants, he grabs a condom from his pocket and rolls it on. He lifts me up in his lap so I'm straddling him. I slowly lower myself onto him, my dress floating around us once I'm completely seated.

"Tesoro…" he growls, grabbing my hips and pumping in and out of me, my breasts bouncing with the movement as he loses control. I meet each of his thrusts, feeling like a queen on her throne as I stare down into his glazed eyes. My legs shake as I get close once again, and I gasp when his lips close over my nipple. His thumb circles the tight bundle of nerves, and it's too much as I fall apart once more, the twinkling lights above me glazing into nothingness.

He follows suit, quickly coming after me.

"Jesus, Summer. I lose all control when I'm around you," he pants, kissing my bare shoulder.

I graze my fingers over his stubble. "I like that I make you lose control."

He pulls the top of my sundress up, kissing the swells of each breast, and then disposes of the condom while I pull my panties back on and smooth out my dress.

I look around at the grove of olive trees and the twinkling lights as music floats down from Fiore's café. "I can't believe we just did that out in the open. What if someone had come walking by? What if the diners from Fiore's restaurant could see us? What if—"

Lorenzo chuckles, pulling the strawberry shortcake out of the basket. "No one was coming down to the grove tonight, I promise you."

"Yeah, but they could have seen the lights…they could have heard us."

"Cara mia…" He passes me the shortcake and a fork. "…don't worry. Fiore's diners can't see down here. As for the others, well, when the boss sends everyone home, no one is sticking around, I promise."

"You sent everyone home tonight…for me?"

"Sí." He takes a bite of shortcake and groans in pleasure. My nipples tighten in response. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Thank you, that was incredibly sweet. Especially after the day you've had."

"Well, I also had Fiore threatening bodily harm if I didn't do something nice for you after not being able to talk to you all day." He throws me a smirk.

"Gotta love sisters."

"Lei é una ficcanaso."

"Hmm." I stare at his beautiful mouth and want to kiss him again. Thank goodness for nosy sisters. "How did you get the scar on your lip?"

"Ahh, I wish I had a good story, but I don't. Angelo gave it to me."

"Your cousin?"

"Sí, when we were teenagers. We were fishing with friends, and there was a girl."

"Ha, there's always a girl."

"Yes, it seems that way with Angelo and me. Anyway, we ended up getting in a fistfight over her because she couldn't choose between us, and he shoved a fishhook in my lip, ripping it. He got the girl."

I cringe just thinking about it. "Well, he didn't get this one."

"I think I would have had to move out of the country if I had to see you two together all the time."

"You two have never seen eye to eye, have you?" I ask.

"No."

I watch him devour his shortcake and my heart does a somersault in my chest. Hooks remind me of pins, and I suddenly remember all the safety pins in the drawer. "By the way, thank you."

"For what?"

"I saw all the safety pins in your parents' powder room. There must be a hundred."

Lorenzo rubs his jaw, his cheeks flushing. "Well now I won't have to spend hours looking for one."

"Haha, okay. I appreciate the gesture."

"Anything for you, tesoro."

My heart pounds wildly as I lean in for a kiss.

"Cara mia…" He pauses, his stormy eyes piercing into mine. "I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for while you're here."

"Me too." I peer back up at all the stars in the sky. Me too, Ren.