“Apologies.” He gave her a chagrined smile and rubbed at the back of his neck like he used to always do. “The crowds are a concern, and I don’t like to sit for too long.”
“I remember,” she murmured.
Their gazes caught and held. His blue eyes held a longing that made her stomach give a happy leap.
There were many memories, and all of them but their last fight and the way her mother had loathed him were good. Could the pain of fifteen years be overridden? The memories of being alone and yearning for him weren’t good.
At that moment, the waiter came and presented the bill, thanking them and asking if they wanted wine or coffee to linger with the view. They declined.
As soon as Robbie paid, he stood and hurried to get her chair.
“Thank you,” she murmured. Interesting that her mother could call this man uncouth when he was as gentlemanly as any man she’d dated. He always treated Alice with respect and kindness.
“I know you declined wine or coffee, but … gelato?” He pumped his thick brows as they passed a refrigerator case containing a spread of frozen flavors a couple doors down from the restaurant.
“Yes, please.” She clapped her hands together, and that brought a twinkle to his blue eyes.
They sauntered over to the counter, a variety of colors displayed. She chose a scoop of limoncello on a sugar cone. Robbie asked for three scoops of Biscoff, Kinder, and Nutella in a waffle cone.
“Your flavor choices are like a teenage boy,” she teased as the girl handed over their ice cream and Robbie paid.
He grinned, obvious even through his beard. “I still love all the same flavors I loved at eighteen.” He gave her a meaningful look.
Her cheeks flared red, and she focused on licking her tart lemon flavored treat. It was refreshing and creamier than ice cream at home.
They waited for their guards to grab their own gelato, then walked slowly over the crowded and famed Ponte de Rialto or Rialto Bridge and along the wider streets to the main square, Piazza San Marco.
“I think we should have gelato after every meal,” he declared. “You have to admit it’s infinitely better than at home.”
“I’ll admit this is the best gelato I’ve ever tasted, but we can’t have it after every meal.”
“Why not?”
“If we do, I’ll gain twenty pounds in two weeks.”
“Nah.” He shook his head and glanced at her. “We’ll be moving a lot.”
“Spoken like a man who could gain twenty pounds and no one would notice.”
He shrugged. “You could gain fifty pounds and everyone would notice because you’d still have the best shape of any woman around.”
Alice’s eyes widened at him repeating the phrase he used to say. “You like my shape?” She shouldn’t have continued to ‘fish for a compliment’ as Natalie used to tease about, but she wanted to hear from Robbie that he was attracted to her.
“I love your shape,” Robbie corrected. He looked her over, and heat filled her chest and cheeks. “I always have.”
A large tourist group pressed against them and broke the moment. They had to weave through people in the busy square. Robbie shifted his gelato to his left hand and wrapped his right hand around hers, guiding her. The contact felt significant and thrilling, especially after his comments.
They made it to the southern end of the island and the docks. She finished her gelato as Robbie followed directions to a ramp that had a large white boat tied off. It looked to be able to accommodate fifty tourists, but they and their guards were the only ones on the tour today. A smiling young man named Geraldo was their tour guide. Their guards took up stations in the front and the back of the boat.
They started the tour circling the west end of the island, then coming around to the north and entering the Grand Canal. They weaved through the interior of the island, passing many boats, most bursting with tourists snapping photos on their phones. Alice wished she had her own phone to take photos.
Geraldo pointed out all manner of buildings, points of interests, history of Venice, and hotels or houses famous people had stayed in or been spotted near. He was delightful, and Alice was almost distracted from being so near Robbie. Almost, but not quite, as Robbie’s arm or hand brushed hers or his huge form overshadowed her. She’d always been confident in her own skin, but she wasn’t used to feeling small atfive-ten. Robbie made her feel feminine and attractive, and she knew he did love her shape.
Rialto Bridge was teeming with tourists as they glided under it. The boat slowed and idled close to the bridge and Geraldo asked, “Photos of my lovely couple?” He made a camera gesture with his fingers up by his eye, clicking as if they were taking a photo on an old school camera.
“Oh. I have no phone,” she said. It was weird to not have a phone and not have any work responsibilities, but she hadn’t thought much about it today.
Robbie pulled his phone out, opened the screen, and handed it over to Geraldo. The man gestured to them. “Get closer, beautiful lovebirds.”
