Holy cow.
I didn’t know what to do with that. I didn’t know how to process it. Ten years ago, I caught Cooter’s eye and back then I felt lucky. So lucky, I didn’t even look at another guy.
And by the time I might look, I wouldn’t. It was too late. I was too scared. I was in too deep.
So it never occurred to me they might be looking.
These thoughts so consumed my head, I was on the terrace and had just begun to turn the corner when I saw Luci cozied up to Sam, sitting very close, her head on his shoulder and I heard her say, “You mustn’t tell her. She’s too vulnerable.”
I stopped and took a step back, rounding the corner, my breath flying out of me.
“Luci –” I heard Sam begin but Luci cut him off fervently.
“No,” she hissed on a whisper. “You cannot tell her of these things, Sam. Never. And I think you see that you must stop doing them.”
“I’ve told you more than once, girl, this was the last job.”
“Yes, you have, Sam, and you also told me that before this job,” she returned.
“This was for a buddy,” Sam replied.
“There will always be another buddy,” she shot back, her voice on the last word pure acid.
“Luci, girl –” Sam started on a growl but I turned, tiptoeing away and then not knowing where I was going. I couldn’t go back, interrupting an intense and private conversation I clearly was not meant to be hearing. But I didn’t know where to go.
So, even though I had half an Amaretto at the table, I went to the bar inside and ordered another one.
Fortunately, I could do this considering Amaretto was an Italian word.
Unfortunately, after I did it, I realized that I didn’t have my purse with me.
Damn.
I tried to figure out how to smile and sign language my way through telling the bartender I needed to run and get my purse when the bartender put the snifter on the bar, started pouring and I saw a bill slide across the bar to him.
I turned to see the man who had smiled at me standing beside me.
Uh-oh.
“You’re American,” he stated and I stared up at him, vaguely noting he was Italian, also vaguely noting he was very good-looking and not-so-vaguely noting I somehow had to get out of this but not knowing how.
“Uh, yes, –”
“The hair,” he explained, his head tipping toward mine. “I can tell by your hair.”
“Oh, right, well then –”
“And you are quite tall. American women are often quite tall.”
“Oh, okay, listen, I should –”
“And shapely,” he went on.
Oh man.
“Right. Thanks, I think, but –”
“I am Angelo.”
“Uh, hi, um –”
He leaned into me as the bartender swept his bill away and left my snifter where it sat.
Shit!
“And you are?”
“Well, I’m Kia, but –”
He leaned in further, I leaned a little back, hopefully making a point and failing when his eyes dropped to my chest and he murmured, “Kia, that is very pretty.”
“Uh –”
His eyes lifted back to mine then they went over my shoulder and higher then he paled and he leaned back right before an arm closed around my chest and a pair of lips brushed my shoulder before coming to my ear and I heard Sam whisper, “There you are.”
Oh man!
Then his lips went away from my ear and I heard him ask, “Somethin’ you need?” and my neck twisted and my head moved back to see his eyes locked on Angelo and not in a friendly, “I’m an American on vacation and thus will at all times act like a diplomat for my country” kind of way.
Oh man!
“Uh, Sam, honey, this is Angelo and he bought my drink because I forgot my purse,” I lied as I threw a hand out to Angelo then I looked to him and said, “Um, Angelo this is Sam, my, uh… special friend.”
Ohmigod!
Did I just call Sam my “special friend”?
Before I could spontaneously combust with mortification, Angelo, eyes on Sam, spoke. “I see.” His eyes came to me. “The lovely Kia, I will leave you to your friend. Enjoy your drink.”
Then he inclined his head at me, turned away and melted into the people around the bar.
Well, that was well done.
Sam turned me so we were front to front then his arms locked around me.
Uh-oh.
I was beginning to learn the feel of the different ways he could hold me and this felt like danger!
I took my time looking up at him.
Then my eyes made it to his face.
I was right.
Oh man.
“Sam –”
“He bought you a drink?”
“Sam, listen –”
“And you gave him your name?”
Shit.
“Sam –”
“You’ve got a drink at the table,” Sam pointed out, again talking over me.
“Sam!” I snapped.
“What?” he asked.
“I, well… I forgot my drink at the table.” This was a lie. “And the farewell with Celeste was kind of emotional.” This was not a lie. “So I needed one, like, STAT.” This was also not a lie but what he didn’t know was that he was talking to Luci about stuff I couldn’t hear, but I heard, so I couldn’t get to the one I already had. “And I was thinking about stuff so I wasn’t thinking I didn’t have my purse when I ordered it and before I could figure out how to sign language that to the bartender, Angelo stepped in and he let me say less than you normally let me say when you’ve got something to say and you keep interrupting me.”
“So you let him buy you a drink,” Sam stated.
“I’m not sure it was a ‘let’ situation since it all happened so quickly but, strictly speaking, yes.”
“The word for ‘no’ in Italian, baby, is no,” Sam leaned into me on the last word and I glared at him.
“I know that.”
“So, next time, use that. We’ll look up the Greek word for ‘no’ so you’ll be sure to know how to stop from letting that happen when we’re on Crete.”
“It’s hardly going to happen on Crete.”
“You been to Crete?”
I shook my head.
“Greece?”
I shook my head again.
“Right, well, head’s up, Greek men are known world-wide as accomplished players and they like blondes and, my guess is, they really like blondes with legs that go on forever, asses that, just from lookin’ at ‘em, they know they want in their hands and –”
“All right, all right,” I interrupted him, “your point is made.”
That was when his face got super close and his arms held me in a warning! way.
I was not wrong and I knew this when he said, “Good. Then I’ll take this time to be certain you totally get my point. Italy, Crete, Bangladesh or Skippy’s, I buy your drinks. No other man does. You don’t give them your name to be friendly or at all unless I’m standin’ right beside you and they get where I’m at. Now do you get where I’m at?”
I didn’t answer him. I was stuck at something he’d said in the middle of acting like a Neanderthal.
“Skippy’s?” I asked.
“What?”
“You said Skippy’s,” I told him.
“Yeah.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a crab shack close to my house that Gordo and I hung at and now where Luci and I hang at.”
I stared at him.
He was an ex-football player. He was an ex-commando. Ex-football player commandos hung at bars called “Thor’s” or “Jethro’s Fire Rocket Barbeque” or “Hellhound Roadhouse”.
Not “Skippy’s Crab Shack”.
“You hang at a place called ‘Skippy’s’?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Skippy’s?” I repeated my question with fewer words.
<
br /> “Uh… yeah,” he repeated his answer with another syllable and a lot less patience.
“Is its full name ‘Skippy’s You Can Eat ‘Em but You Gotta Wrestle ‘Em First Crab Shack’?”
Sam had no answer for that; he just stared down at me.
Then he didn’t answer but instead asked, “Right, how the fuck am I pissed that I go to find my woman and see some guy in her space, find out not only did she let him buy her a drink but she gave him her name and I make myself clear about how I feel about that and instead of her confirming she gets me, she’s talkin’ about Skippy’s and for some fuckin’ reason, instead of me pushin’ she gets me, I wanna laugh my ass off?”
He sounded disgruntled.
Since I didn’t have an answer and I also didn’t want to make him more disgruntled, I decided to shrug.
Sam tipped his eyes heavenward and sighed.
I bit my lip.
Sam tipped his eyes back to me and stated quietly, “No, Skippy’s is just Skippy’s, the best fried crab sandwich you’ll find on the eastern seaboard and I say that with authority seein’ as Gordo and me put some research into that. And no, Skip does not make you wrestle the crabs before eatin’ them. Now, honey, takin’ us back, do you… get me?”
“I get you,” I whispered.
He stared down at me.
Then he muttered like he was talking to himself, “I don’t know if I want her to figure out she’s fuckin’ gorgeous so she isn’t so fuckin’ clueless when a player marks her or if I’m glad I finally got one who looks as good as her and has no fuckin’ clue.”
“Are you wanting me to participate in this discussion or are you having a conversation with yourself?”
“Your participation isn’t required,” Sam replied.
“I didn’t think so,” I mumbled, my eyes sliding away.
That was when I felt Sam’s body shaking and I looked up to see him grinning. Then one of his hands went to my jaw, he tipped my head further back and, to my shock (but it couldn’t be said, displeasure), he laid a hot, wet, deep, heavy and long one on me.
I was holding on tight and breathing erratically when he lifted his head, muttered, “Now they get me,” then he turned me, tagged my drink and walked me back to the table.
I drank my half Amaretto while I chatted with Luciana and while we chatted, Sam had one of his arms draped around the back of my chair, his torso toward me (and in the direction of Luci), his other arm draped across my lap. Then, when I was into my second Amaretto, Luci needed another drink so Sam got up to get her one.
But before he did, his hand gave my thigh a squeeze that caught my attention, my head turned to him and he caught my eye, the eye catch meaningful I just didn’t know what it meant. I felt my brows draw together and tipped my head slightly, his gaze cut swiftly to Luci and back. Light dawned, I gave a slight nod then he gave my thigh another squeeze and took off.
I turned to Luci to see she was watching Sam leave.
Then she turned to me and announced, “I very much like you two together.”
I smiled at her.
Then I whispered, “I very much like us together too.”
She smiled back.
Then she scooted her chair close, turned into me and confided quietly. “Sam very much likes you two together too.”
I pulled in a soft breath then shared, “I’m beginning to get that.”
She studied my face a moment then deduced, “He is breaking through.”
“It would be hard not to, considering he’s using a sledgehammer.”
She threw her head back and laughed and I did it with her (without the throwing my head back part).
Then, with a smile on her face, she righted her head but her eyes went to the lake and she murmured, “Our boys, they are not subtle.”
My heart skipped.
Our boys.
Before I could say word one, she did.
“I was at a party when I met Travis. I was very confident, which was what I liked to think. My father said I was vain. Back then, I think I was. Young, I had so much attention, I liked it. I saw Travis across the room and I chose him. In that day, back then, that was all I had to do. I chose them and they came to me and I made them dance. I caught his eyes and he came to me. I tried to make him dance,” her eyes slid to me and her smile was small and melancholy when she whispered, “Travis Gordon was not a man who danced.”
I didn’t know what to do, whether to touch her, take her hand but before I could do anything, she looked back toward the darkened lake and kept talking.
“He walked away. Five minutes he spoke with me then he tipped his chin up at me, said, ‘Enjoy your evening,’ and walked away. I thought it was a game. It wasn’t. Three hours we were at the same party and he didn’t look at me again. I thought he was trying to make me come to him while I was trying to make him come to me. Then I saw him leaving and he didn’t even glance my way. I knew then he was not going to come to me and worse, he was not playing any games. And it occurred to me that if he left, I would never see him again. And, I don’t know, I found I simply could not let him go.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “So I followed him.”
She fell silent.
I waited.
She spoke again.
“I caught him outside, walking down the sidewalk. I had on very high heels and I was nearly running. If I had… if we didn’t have…” she pulled in an unsteady breath, “it would have been quite humiliating if things did not turn out the way they did. But he heard my heels, he stopped and I made it to him. Immediately, he asked, ‘Done with that shit?’” I watched her profile smile another small, wistful smile. “What could I say?” She turned her head to me. “I said, ‘Yes’.”
I smiled at her and mine was small too and probably melancholy.
She looked back to the sea.
“Right then, he said, ‘Tomorrow night, I’m taking you to dinner. If you make an excuse, I’ll know it’s a game and offer rescinded. With that bullshit in there, you bought that. Now, are we going to dinner?’” She paused then whispered, “‘Offer rescinded’. So Travis.”
“I take it you said yes,” I prompted softly when she didn’t go on for awhile.
She nodded and looked at me. “Oh yes, cara mia, I said yes and that was the most important word I said in my life until a year later when I said the words, ‘I do’.”
I felt tears sting my nose and was about to reach for her hand when she suddenly twisted to me and reached for mine, grasping it tight, moving into my space and her other hand came up to cup my cheek.
“Three hours, I played my game, three hours,” she said quietly, quickly, vehemently. “You must know what I would do to get back those three hours with my Travis.”
My hand grew tight in hers and I whispered, “Luci –”
Her face got closer. “Do not be foolish as me, Kia, do not waste even three minutes with a good man. Do not.”
“Honey, maybe we should talk about you,” I suggested carefully and this was not a fishing expedition for Sam, this was Luci and me and Lake Como and Travis Gordon having a lock on her heart from the grave, so tight, it was never letting go.
“No, you are off to Parma tomorrow then Crete and I am not going home to North Carolina for two months. I have little time with you and I need you to learn from my mistake, Kia, I need it.”
“Luci, that’s what I think we should talk about.”
She shook her head, determined to stay on her subject. “Sam is a good man.”
“I know.”
“And anything can happen tomorrow.”
“Luci, please,” I lifted my other hand and took hers from my face then holding both of hers in mine between us, I shook them, “nothing is going to happen tomorrow and –”
“The future is always very bright, Kia, until suddenly, one day, it becomes nothing but black.”
Oh God.
“Luci –”
“Do not be angry at him but he has shared with me about you. Not much and not
much more than what I have assumed from hearing you talk to Celeste on the phone. And I care for Sam, very deeply, he was Travis’s friend and he was mine and after I lost Travis, I… I don’t… well, I don’t know what I would have done without him. We have grown even closer since and I want him to be happy. But I would not steer you or any woman wrong to make that happen. But he is a good man, through and through, Kia. He will take care of you. I know this to be true. Let him take care of you, cara, let him make you happy and while he’s doing it, you make him happy too.”
“Luci, honey, we just met a few days ago.”
She looked me straight in the eye and declared, “You know.”
I pulled in breath.
She went on. “And he does too.”
“I –”
“And I did too. And Travis told me, many weeks later, he looked across that room and saw me and he knew. And when he approached me and I was not what that looked promised him I’d be, he was very disappointed. But, three hours later, he was filled with joy because when I ran after him, he knew he was not wrong.” She shook my hands. “And he was not. Nor is Sam. Nor are you.”
I held her eyes, they were fretful and I did the only thing I could do.
I gave her my promise.
“I won’t waste a minute, Luci. I promise.”
Instantly, she smiled gleefully, released my hands but put hers on both sides of my head, pulling me forward, she kissed one of my cheeks then the other then she pushed me back and demanded, “You must inform me the minute Sam proposes and I will immediately speak with Massimo.”
I blinked through a heart spasm and a belly plummet. The latter was at the thought of Sam proposing. The former was at the mention of the fabulous designer known only as “Massimo”.
“Massimo?” I whispered.
“Why yes,” she replied, letting me go and whisking up the dregs of her drink then sucking them back, she replaced the glass on the table and informed me, “He designed my wedding gown. He adores me. We’re the closest of friends, outside Sam, of course. At my request, he would be delighted to design yours too.”
I was pretty certain I wheezed audibly at this announcement but Luciana didn’t hear it because at this point Sam returned with her drink. Then he sat next to me and wrapped himself around me again.