Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I rose to my feet and smiled as she walked toward me, a tall woman who was still petite in comparison to my height. I’d never been picky when it came to women, but I did appreciate a woman with legs for days, who was tall and elegant, someone I could kiss without having to break my neck.
She smiled back as she drew close, her hand moving to the shoulder where the strap of her bag hung. “Hey.” She came to a stop before me, aviator sunglasses covering her eyes from my sight. She was awkward again, like she didn’t know how to act around me, even though she’d already fucked my brains out.
I stepped closer to her, watching her reaction change behind the glasses, and slid my arm around the small of her back before I eased her into me and kissed her. A PG embrace suitable for the families nearby.
And I felt it—that same scorching heat.
Her hand automatically went to my forearm, and her posture changed. It softened, leaning into me like she was pulled by my presence. She sank into my lips a little bit, like she wanted to stay there.
I pulled away. “Come on. I’ll give you a tour.”
“Of Taormina?” she asked in surprise.
“Only the good spots.”
She hesitated again, growing distant like she didn’t belong there. “That’s awfully nice of you.”
“It’s small, so don’t sweat it.”
“Still, you don’t have to do that.”
“Oh, I’m not doing this for free.”
“You aren’t?” she asked.
I grinned, watching the understanding enter her gaze once she comprehended my meaning. “You’ll pay up later.” I nodded toward the main street, Corso Umberto, only accessible by pedestrians. “Come on.” The road passed all the souvenir shops and gelaterias and led farther into town and all the pathways that branched off it. “Our first stop—Bam Bar.”
“The granita place?” she asked excitedly.
“The very one.”
“Good. I’m starving.”
We walked together down the main street, and I pointed out all the spots I recommended—and the others that were considered tourist traps. Cannoli made without love because they assumed passersby wouldn’t know the difference. Souvenirs made in China instead of handcrafted items from the locals.
We strolled down a couple of streets, made our way slightly uphill toward the Greek theatre, and then emerged at the entrance to Bam Bar, a line of people already outside waiting for a table.
“Oh my god, it’s so cute,” she said. “I love the tables.”
With a sun in the center and Bam Bar written in yellow, the tables were custom made by a local dealer. All the restaurants and cafés had the same furniture, just with different designs and colors.
Instead of heading to the line, I walked up to a waiter who had just bussed a vacated table. “Emilio.”
He turned at the sound of my voice, and his tanned face immediately erupted in a smile. “Con, you’re back in town.” He returned the tray to the table he’d just cleaned and embraced me with a hand grab and a pat on the back. “How long you here for?”
“A week. Just visiting the fam. How’s your dad?”
“He’s good. On holiday in Egypt right now.”
“Holiday?” I asked. “I don’t remember him ever taking a vacation.”
“Well, he had a heart scare a couple months ago and had to put a stent in. Has a new appreciation for life.”
“I had no idea,” I said. “Glad he’s doing well.”
“If you’ve got time, hit me up.” He fist-bumped me. “We’ll hit the beach.”
I fist-bumped him back. “Sounds like a plan, man.”
He nodded to the table. “Take this one.” He winked and walked away.
I moved to the other side of the table and took a seat.
Aurelia joined me, hanging her bag over the top of the chair. We were covered by the awning, so we would be out of the sun and comfortable in the shade. She examined the table and touched the stone underneath her fingertips before she grabbed the menu. “Whoa, they have a lot of flavors.”
“They don’t offer those every day.” I turned in my chair and peered inside the restaurant, seeing the sign they posted with what they offered for the day. I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo before I set it next to her to see. “This is what they’ve got.”
“Oh.” She held my phone and read the selections. “The lemon and the yogurt sound good.”
I shook my head. “Those don’t go well together. I recommend the coffee and the almond. But if you’re looking for fruit flavors, strawberry and lemon pair well.” I’d eaten a lot of granita growing up, and the locals always mocked the tourists when they made poor selections. I was just saving her judgment from Emilio and the others.
“Since you’re the expert . . .” She closed the menu and set it aside. “I’ll take your advice.”
I smiled before I lifted my sunglasses onto my head, exposing my face now that we were in the shade. “Good choice, sweetheart.”