She huffed a laugh. Until this spring, she’d been a married woman. Even if he’d caught her eye and flashed that molten smile, what could she have done about it?
“Come on.” He stepped back and reached for her hand again. “Tide’s starting to turn. We’ve gotta hurry to catch this spot. I don’t want you to miss it.” They strolled up the beach, pointing out sights along the way: a formation of pelicans diving with military precision, a joyful yellow Lab splashing into the surf, a trio of little boys giggling as they buried their dad in sand. A bittersweet pang pulled tears to her eyes. So many memories of happier days when her kids were small. But this was a happy day too. Her life had changed, but it wasn’t over.
They reached a wall of stacked boulders. “We cross here,” Matteo said while stepping into his Vans. “Better put your shoes back on.” Holding her hips from behind, he boosted her onto a limpet-encrusted rock. She scrambled over the top and dropped onto a small, deserted cove, no bigger than half a soccer field, ringed by jagged, pine-topped cliffs.
“It’s beautiful,” she exclaimed. “All these years coming to Trappers Cove, I never knew this was here.”
“Ivan’s Hollow. Unless the tide is all the way out, you have to climb the rocks to get in. Every summer, some idiot drives through at low tide, parks too close to the surf line, and loses his truck to the sea.” He dropped his backpack onto the sand and pulled out a checkered blanket. “You hungry?”
“Starving.”
While she nestled her butt into the soft sand, Matteo set out paper plates and two foil-wrapped sandwiches. “Ali Baba’s kebabs, the best on the coast. I wasn’t sure which toppings you like, so I got them all on the side.” He arrayed foil packets holding paper-thin slices of red onion, cucumber, tomato, shredded white cabbage, black olives, and slabs of feta cheese. A cardboard tub held garlicky tzatziki sauce, and another held spicy harissa. Cold cans of flavored seltzer water completed the feast.
“Yum!” She paused, bamboo spoon aloft. “Are you having garlic sauce on yours?”
“And onions. Don’t worry, I brought mints for after, just in case.” He waggled his eyebrows.
They loaded up their sandwiches and feasted, tossing bits of pita bread to the ever-increasing flock of seagulls who tap-danced just out of reach. When one got too aggressive, Matteo leapt to his feet and charged at the birds, flapping his arms like a deranged scarecrow. Danielle laughed so hard seltzer sprayed out her nose.
Chuckling, he dropped down beside her again. “We’re at the top of the food chain, baby.” He thumped his chest. “No one’s stealing our kebabs.”
She patted her middle and smiled. “Greasy, spicy, salty goodness. Brilliant choice, Matteo. Thank you.” She stuffed their wrappers into the backpack and leaned back on her elbows with a contented sigh. “Seems you’re always feeding me something delicious. You’ll have to let me cook for you.”
“I like that idea.” He reclined on one elbow and twirled a lock of her hair around his forefinger. “What’s your specialty?”
His smoldering gaze ignited a tendril of lust that meandered through her body and flared between her thighs. She fanned her skirt to hide her squirming. “Well, I make a pretty good coq au vin.”
The corners of his lips inched upward. “It’s a date. I’ll bring the wine.” He rolled away and dug into the backpack. “Speaking of—” He pulled out a leather-covered flask and two tiny metal cups. “Nocino. Walnut liqueur, good for the digestion. Uncle Sal swears by this stuff.”
She took a cautious sip—nutty, with sweet spices, and not too much alcohol. “Delicious.” She drained her cup, then stretched out, head pillowed on her folded arms, and watched cloud castles sail inland. The soft whoosh of surf and the press of midday heat soon had her eyelids drooping. Stifling a yawn, she rolled onto her side. “Don’t want to fall asleep and end up stranded by the tide.”
“I can think of worse fates.” He held up a little tin. “Mint?”
“Subtle, aren’t you?” Giggling, she took one and crunched it up.
“Well, I’ve only got two weeks to convince you.” He popped a mint into his mouth, stretched out on his side, and grinned.
Oh, that minty, garlic-tinged, playful, seductive, beautiful smile. The contrast between dark, close-trimmed whiskers and plush, dusky-pink lips completely undid her.
She sucked in a breath and almost smoothed the tremor from her voice. “Convince me of what?”
“To give this a try.” He pointed to his own chest, then to hers.
“You mean a little vacation fling?”
“No, bella. A woman like you could never be just a fling.”
She snorted—probably not the reaction he was looking for.
But instead of looking hurt, he chuckled. “Too cheesy, eh?”
“Just a little. But thanks for the compliment.”
“So.” He scooted closer on the blanket and rested a hand on her hip. “What do you say? Are you up for an adventure? You’ve got a ready-made escape clause.”
Mere inches away, his nearness made it damned hard to concentrate. “What do you mean?”
“Two weeks. When it’s over, you decide. If you got what you wanted, you leave me behind, knowing you made a lonely guy very, very happy.” His hand slid oh-so-slowly down her thigh. “If you still want more, we’ll figure out a way to make it work.”
