Chapter Twenty-Five

Bianca

Exiting the taxi, Knox held my hand—a definite necessity because he’d insisted on blindfolding me, wanting our destination to be a surprise.

“Where are we?” I asked, hearing a lot of noise, but unable to make out any of it. One hand instinctively went to the strip of fabric covering my eyes.

He tapped my hand and tsked. “Not yet. You keep that thing on. We’re almost there.”

If this were the bedroom, I’d be perfectly fine with keeping it on—there was nothing wrong with having a little fun—but this was Paris, for crying out loud. I was dying here. But I didn’t want to ruin his surprise, so I decided to succumb and be guided.

He led me half a dozen steps and then stopped. “Okay,” he announced and his hands went behind my head to untie the blindfold. “Look up,” he commanded as it slipped from my eyes.

I gasped, my heart beating so fast, I feared it might beat right out of my chest. “Knox, this is the Eiffel-frigging-Tower. We’re eating at the Eiffel Tower?” This was bucket list kind of stuff, people! I’d always wanted to eat in the tower, especially when it was all lit up, but for all the times I’d come to Paris, I never had. Honestly, it always felt like something I wanted to share with someone special. It was like Knox knew. Man, he really was perfect, wasn’t he? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I knew we were going somewhere special when he showed up in a dark gray suit, but this was more than that.

Laughing at my reaction, he nodded. “Second floor. It’s the best I could do on short notice, but the reviews are excellent.”

Turning to eye him, I couldn’t stop shaking my head. “It’ll definitely do for a first date. How did you know I’ve never been here before?”

He stuffed the blindfold in his jacket pocket and took my hand. “I might’ve texted a sister or two,” he said, visibly cringing at the confession.

But I melted. I was a puddle right there on the ground outside the Eiffel Tower. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” I gushed. The urge to pull him down by his lapels so I could kiss him passionately was strong, but things were still so very new, so I resisted.

That aside, my mind was racing; I only hoped my sisters didn’t slip up on accident and tell Dad. He still thought Knox and I were squarely in the friend zone. That was definitely changing, but I really didn’t want him to find out until I was ready to tell him. It needed to come from me.

“It’s not weird?” he asked, obviously still nervous about texting my sisters.

Shaking my head, I insisted, “Not at all. I just hope Dad doesn’t find out.”

He groaned. “Don’t bring up Angelo.”

And that was the perfectly right response. Just what I needed to hear. In fact, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry, I just worry.” Meanwhile, was that a man over there taking our photograph? I peered around to see who else was nearby. Maybe he was photographing a celebrity or some other couple and I hadn’t realized it. Okay, it was official—I was being neurotic. “You don’t think he’ll find out, though, do you? Look at the guy over there with the camera.”

Following my gaze, he stared for a second before turning back to me, placing a kiss on my cheek. He fixed the strap of my blue dress, the back of his knuckles grazing the skin of my exposed shoulder and warmth spread throughout my body. “If he’s photographing you, it’s because you’re beautiful, not because he knows your father. Let’s go up. Dinner awaits.”

* * *

Knox

I was going to try to forget about the whole Angelo thing and hope Bianca could do the same.

This was our first real date and I didn’t want to taint it with talk of her father.

Just the sheer idea of Angelo sent a visceral reaction through my body. It was safe to say that no matter how much time passed, he’d always terrify me. I was man enough to admit it. It was all in his eyes—those dark eyes told a story of power like none other.

Instead, I was going to focus on the beautiful, magnificent woman here with me. It wasn’t that hard, though, because everything about her drew me in.

Bianca’s soft brown hair that was always styled differently.

Bianca’s pink lips and the way they turned up when I spoke.

Bianca’s curvy hips.

Bianca’s blue dress.

What was under that blue dress. . . .

I shook my head and reigned in my thoughts. Okay, that was better, but not exactly helpful since it seemed it was easy to regress into a teenage boy with raging hormones when I was around her and focusing on those things. But I didn’t want that for tonight. Tonight I wanted us to have a nice date, something she’d enjoy, something she might see in one of those movies she loved.

We stepped off the elevator and walked to the door of the restaurant.

It felt good to see the smile on her face and know I’d put it there.

* * *

Bianca

“Look at where we are.” Even I heard the amazement in my voice. It was childlike, like this was new to me, which it was, and I couldn’t deny how lucky I was to be here.

We were seated at a private table for two with a window view overlooking the city and River Seine, and nothing (I mean, nothing) could compare.

When I looked across the table at Knox, I found his eyes on me. “If you stare at me the whole night, you’re going to miss this incredible view.”

His gaze was intent on mine, and it was like he could see right through me. Normally that would scare me, but for some reason, with him, I never wanted him to look away. No amount of time would be long enough to look into his eyes and see the appreciation he had for me. No man had ever looked at me the way he did.

Finally, he responded, “I’m not missing anything. The view I have is undeniably more incredible.”

“Oh, Knox,” I gushed, my cheeks heating with his sweet words. If he didn’t stop, I would have to start fanning myself. Or. . . . “You know, if you don’t stop talking like that, I might want to skip dinner and go straight to dessert.”

He shook his head, placing a hand on the table and extending it to reach for mine. Holding hands now, he replied, “As much as I want to do that with you, this isn’t about that. I did this to show you how special you are to me. How special you are, period. I want to enjoy tonight with you, to talk and laugh and have all the little moments we missed out on over the years. If I could go back and do it all again, I would. I missed you more than even I knew and I want this time around to be different.”

I could hear the sincerity in his voice and it was nice to hear, but I didn’t want him to get caught up in trying to right the past. “Everything happens for a reason,” I reminded him.

He shook his head and admitted, “I’m just glad this happened.”

“Me, too,” I said, letting my gaze fall to where his thumb was caressing the inside of my hand. It was sad, but no man had ever given me this much attention. Okay, so they’d given me attention , but not like this. Not like Knox did. This man fed my soul.

I wasn’t an overly emotional person, but if I was, there would’ve been a puddle of tears on the floor over the way he looked at me. “Why are you still single?” I questioned, more curious than anything how a man like him wasn’t snatched up by now.

He laughed, still holding my hand. “How long have you been waiting to ask me that one?”

I shrugged and wrinkled my nose. “Does it matter?” But if you must know, since London.

“No, I guess not. To be honest, there’s not one particular reason. I just haven’t really prioritized dating. Not the way it should be prioritized at least. Growing up the way I did, and after Rina left, I wanted to make sure I got my life together and had a good, stable job.” He cringed and tried to backpedal. “I’m sorry, it’s just that—”

“It’s just that she’s part of your past and that had an impact on what came after.” I nodded, trying to make sure he knew it was okay. “I get it,” I assured him, smiling.

He squeezed my hand and gave me a weak smile. “No more mention of she-who-shall-not-be-named.” Then he looked at me pointedly and added, “And he-who-shall-not-be-named.”

I laughed, knowing that second one was about my dad. “You got it. Although, it seems a little hard, considering he is my dad and she’s, well, your ex who I don’t think is going away anytime soon. But I have faith we can do it, at least for tonight.”

“Good.”

* * *

Knox

Bianca and I fell into an easy conversation as we waited for our order to be taken and then again when we waited for the lobster from our multi-course tasting menu to be served. And I was happy to report that we did not talk about either of those people we were trying not to talk about.

We did, however, talk about lobster. And at the very mention of it, Bianca smiled and placed a hand over her mouth, clearly amused by something.

It wasn’t long before she broke out into a full laugh, but she quickly waved a hand in front of her face to try to get serious. “Okay, so when I was little, my nonna was taking care of me. I don’t remember why. I think I was sick or something and had to stay home from school and she was the only one who could watch me. Anyway, she was cooking lobsters for my nonno and some of their neighbors.” By way of explanation, she spoke with her hands as she told the story—“They always made an abundance of food and gave the leftovers to their neighbors. Meatballs, lasagna, cookies, the list goes on.”

She took a second, closed her eyes and groaned, placing her thumb to her index finger and holding them over her lips as she blew a kiss. “Her Italian butter cookies were mouthwatering.”

“Butter cookies? I’ve never heard of them.”

She held a hand to her chest and gasped. “What? You must have. The stores all over the city sell them premade in boxes at the holiday time. They have nothing on my nonna’s, but that’s besides the point. She used to make an assortment of them. Some were topped with candied cherries, others she dipped in melted chocolate and before the chocolate set she’d add colored sprinkles. Let me tell you, they were to die for.” Moaning now, she continued, grabbing my hand with both of her hands, her eyes going wide. “But my absolute favorite version of her butter cookies were the ones she’d dusted in powdered sugar. They were everything.”

I smiled, loving how her whole face lit up when she talked about her family. It was so obvious that family really meant something to Bianca and the Morellis. It wasn’t just for show, they really were close and loved each other, something I think we all could’ve used more of in our lives. My family, on the other hand, was very different. But I didn’t want to get swept up in all that. “So butter cookies are your favorite?” I asked. I’d have to keep that in mind.

She pulled her hands back to her, placing them in her lap. “Oh, goodness no!” Never mind then. “Butter cookies are Maria’s favorite. No, no, no, really my favorite are rainbow cookies. Each cookie looks like a little slice of cake with equal parts red, white, and green almond-flavored layers. In the middle of each layer is a tart raspberry jam and then it’s finished off with a chocolate coating. The colors are the result of food coloring, of course, but it’s beautiful and delicious and moist,” she said, closing her eyes and rolling her lips.

God, she just said moist and closed her eyes. What’s she trying to do to me? Focus, Knox. This is important to Bianca and thus important to me.

“Fun fact: the recipe was actually made by an Italian immigrant in New York. I think they dyed it for the colors of their country’s flag. Anyway, we have them every year around Easter and that’s it. It’s like a novelty for us.”

“Why Easter?”

She furrowed her brows and looked upward for a moment before answering, “I’m honestly not sure.”

We both chuckled as the waiter arrived with our lobster and her eyes grew wide like saucers again, a smile crossing her face.

“All right, I have to hear that lobster story,” I said finally as the waiter walked away.

Beaming, she leaned forward, like she was prepared to let me in on some big secret.

I didn’t think I would ever stop loving her expressions, especially the look of pure joy on her face. And I realized, in that moment, I wanted to make sure Bianca always looked as happy as this. That the sparkle in her eyes never went away. If it meant listening to thousands of stories about her family memories, then I’d sit back and listen.

* * *

Bianca

When I was done telling the story of the lobster and my nonna, Knox’s eyes looked like they were going to bulge out of his head. “That sounds frightening.”

I laughed, taking a bite of my lobster. I swallowed before replying, “Honestly, I’ve told the story so many times, I’ll never get sick of seeing the look on people’s faces when I do.” My sisters probably hated it, though, because they could recite it, too, for how many times I had repeated it.

Knox’s eyes grew wide again. “The look is warranted. You just told me that the lobsters were alive and they were trying to crawl out of the pot, but your nonna, who was obviously as tough as nails, hit them with a wooden spoon and cursed at them in Italian. Did I miss anything?”

I held up a hand for affect, mimicking my memory of her with the wooden spoon and kept my voice low as I chanted, “ Scendere! Scendere! Scendere! ” hoping I wasn’t drawing the attention of other diners around us.

He leaned back in his chair, straightening his back. “Yeah, I got that the first time.” Then he asked, “What does that mean, though?”

“Get down.”

He laughed. “Fitting.” Then he nodded slowly, taking it all in. “All right, so it’s safe to say we know where you get your spitfire nature from.”

“That’s one of the nicest things you could’ve ever said to me. Honestly, I looked up to her and probably always will. Even though she’s gone, it’s like she’s still here with me sometimes. When she lost my nonno she was different, less sociable, though. So toward the end, I missed her before she was even really gone.”

Without hesitation, he said what he’d said once before, “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

When I rolled my eyes and tried to play it off, he leaned forward again and reached for my hands, taking one in each of his.

“I’m serious. You’re stronger than you think, Bianca.”

I didn’t always feel strong. In fact, thinking about the way I let my fear of loss hold me back sometimes, I felt quite the opposite. “We should probably finish this lobster, right?” As I asked the question, I went back to eating.

The truth was, I had lost too much for my liking. My grandparents’ deaths had made sense because they were old. They hadn’t been sick, but they hadn’t been young. They had lived a good and healthy life and made a lot of memories, shared beautiful ones with the entire family, their friends, and even neighbors.

But my mom. . . that was a loss that would never make sense to me.

None of that mattered, though. Not right now anyway.

I was in Paris, one of the most romantic cities in the world with a man who’d brought me to the heart of the city. Nothing would ever top this.

Everything else would forever pale in comparison to the way Knox treated me. Like a queen. Like I mattered. Me—I mattered.

If I could have written a letter to my younger self, I would have told her: you’re going to meet a man one day who genuinely cares about you and only you. He’s going to listen attentively, and be all the things you’ve always wanted and deserve. And it all happens because you allowed yourself to forget your fear of loss and give him a chance. Don’t worry, he’s worth it.

* * *

Knox

Putting my drink down, I cleared my throat. “So it looks like our international rendezvous will be coming to an end.”

Bianca leaned back and licked her lips. “It would seem so. But I’m actually happy to be going back to New York. I’ve missed it.”

“Everything will change.”

“You mean, we won’t be spending nearly every waking second together?”

“That.” I laughed. “And us.”

Her brows drew in. “What do you mean?”

“Well, your dad.” It had to be brought up, whether or not I wanted it to be. We had to figure out where this left us. Where we were going to go from here. “I know you want this, you said so last night, and I want this, too, but you told your dad we were just friends, which was true at that point. But do you see us remaining friends?”

She shook her head, biting her bottom lip. “Knox, I think we crossed the line last night when we kissed. And this”—she gestured around us—“is nice, but no friend would ever bring me here.”

“But I know you don’t want to lie to your dad.”

She cracked her neck as though feeling the tension of the situation. “You’re right,” she said. “I don’t want to lie to him. So when we get back, I’ll tell him the truth.”

“Are you sure? Because if you’re not ready, I understand. I’m not trying to push the issue, I just think it warrants a discussion.” I picked up my glass and took a sip before setting it back down on the table. “You know I’ll stand by you one hundred percent no matter what you choose to do.”

She leaned forward again and extended a hand across the table. I took it in mine and rolled one of her rings around her finger before leaning forward to plant a kiss on the top of it. I looked up as I did and her lashes fluttered, the corners of her lips curling upward.

“I want to be able to go on a date with you without worrying someone will catch us and say something to my dad, or my dad himself will catch us. It’s too nerve-wracking and, as hot as it can be, sneaking around and hiding our relationship isn’t something I want.”

I nodded my agreement. “I feel the same way.”

She squared her shoulders and winked at me. “Then it’s settled, when I get home, I will tell my dad that we’re exploring our feelings for one another.” Then she shrugged casually as she turned back to her plate. “What’s the worse that can happen anyway?”

“He could forbid it,” I joked and followed her lead, turning my attention to my plate.