Chapter 20 #2
“Perfect.” He grabbed the keys for his truck.
“Absolutely perfect.” He hadn’t been going to bring a sidearm, as he had one locked in the glovebox.
But right now, he was second-guessing that choice.
On second thought, leaving a trail of bodies with their eyes shot out for glancing in her direction would not be helpful in maintaining the good relationship his family had with the locals.
He opened the door of the truck for her, lifted her in, and closed the door before getting in himself.
“Where are we going?” Jorja tugged at the seat belt a couple of times, but it jammed.
He reached across her to help her with the belt, bringing his face close to her neck.
Gunnar squeezed his eyes closed briefly.
Oh boy, her perfume was intoxicating… the good kind of heavy and not the ten-dollar bottle of whiskey kind.
As his fingers untwisted the belt, Jorja turned slowly to face him.
His fingers worked from memory alone as he was enthralled by breathing her in.
Their mouths were so close they were almost kissing, but not quite.
Damn.
Her lips are kissable.
Nope.
Get your mind out of the gutter.
He forced himself back to the task at hand and managed to free the seat belt and close it around her. There had to be a medal for not kissing a beautiful woman when the tension between you and her ramped up to nuclear… right? If there wasn’t, there should be.
The fifteen-minute drive out of town and up into the mountains to the pizzeria he’d found after a hike passed comfortably between them, with him pointing out landmarks and her chattering about how beautiful the views from the hairpin bends were.
“Wait until you see them on the way down,” Gunnar told her. “When the lights of the harbor are all lit up, it looks like the ocean goes on for miles.”
“It doesn’t?” she teased. “The ocean stops?”
“It does when you hit the shores of Sardinia.”
“Hah.”
Before he knew it, he was flipping on his flicker and turning down a narrow country road.
He found a parking spot between two smart cars.
Thankfully, his truck fit. But he figured with two cars that small on either side of him, he could lift one out of the way later if he needed to.
They weren’t much bigger than a go-kart.
They were greeted by the owner. “Ciao, Gunnar.” The older man kissed both of his cheeks and stepped back, still holding onto his upper arms. “It is good to see you,” Luciano said in halting English. He smiled at Jorja, but didn’t reach in to kiss her.
Gunnar chalked that up as another awesome. Because he really did want to eat tonight, killing Luciano for putting his hands on Jorja wouldn’t go over well.
Luciano went back behind the counter. “Would you like a table inside or on the terrace?”
Gunnar glanced at Jorja; he would defer to let her choose on this one.
“On the terrace, please.”
“Of course.” Luciano picked up two menus and collected a bottle of water before leading them out onto the terrace.
“I will give you this one.” He brought them to a table in the corner.
“I think you sit next to each other instead of having the table between you, yes?” As he spoke, Luciano removed the place settings from one side of the four top table.
Genius. He was a genius.
“Perfecto, grazie, Luciano.” Gunnar urged Jorja forward, putting her in the safest place on the terrace where he could protect her if necessary, then claimed the seat next to hers. “Luciano, may we have a mix of your famous local appetizers, please?”
“Of course, and to drink?”
“Jorja?”
“House white, please.”
“I will bring you a bottle.” Luciano lit the candles for them. “And for you, Gunnar? A beer, as is normal?”
“Yes, please.”
“It will be a couple of moments.”
Jorja peered at the menu. “It’s so quiet here.”
“I know, right?” He didn’t need to look at the menu. He already knew what he wanted to eat. But he’d settle for their seafood pasta. “La Spezia is one of the quieter towns, but when I come up here, I realize how much noise people make.”
“My Italian isn’t good enough to read the menu.” Jorja glanced up at him. “Will you order for me?”
“You trust me to do that?”
She nodded and smiled a thank you to Luciano who placed a wine bucket in the center of the table, along with the beer for him and a jug of water. “Yes.”
Gunnar took the menu from her, and handed them back to Luciano. “Will you ask the chef to make us two of his seafood dishes, please?”
“Of course.” Luciano glanced over his shoulder. “Your appetizers are coming now.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have ordered a main course.” Jorja glanced doubtfully at the table which was soon laden down with platters of bruschetta, cheese, jams, and sliced meats. “I don’t know where we’re going to fit everything.”
“What we don’t eat, Luciano will allow us to bring home for the boys. He’s probably ordering more food in there for them as we speak.”
“You bring doggy bags home for your brothers?”
“Sure beats having them here.” Gunnar grinned at her.
“They don’t need to be studying our every move and making smart ass comments.
” He loaded up a piece of toast with some jam and cream cheese and offered it to her.
His heart rate jumped when she wrapped her fingers around his wrist and took the offering from his hands.
Crap, I didn’t think that one through.
Fabulous, there are kids out here, and my cock is hard as a fucking rock.
“Minx,” he murmured and topped up her glass with some more wine.
“Would you like to try some?” She held the glass to his lips.
“Only a sip. I’m driving, and with the beer, I don’t want to be over the limit.” He sipped from the glass. “It’s good.”
“I love how the house wine here is as good as a twenty- or thirty-dollar bottle at home.”
“Right?”
By the time they’d finished their main course and the plates were cleared away, Gunnar was happy, mellow, and chilled out. “I have an idea, if you’re game?”
“If it involves running or anything more than rolling me down a hill, I don’t think I’m gonna make it,” Jorja replied. “I’m stuffed. Happy, but stuffed.”
“No room for dessert?” he teased.
“Um…”
“Give me a sec. I’m going to ask Luciano for something.” He swept the hair back from her face and rested his forehead against hers for a heartbeat and got to his feet.
“Everything is okay?” One of the servers, Luciano’s grandson, was right there almost as soon as he stepped through the door from the terrace to the main restaurant. “Are you ready to order dessert?”
“Yes. I promise everything is good.” This right here was why he loved coming here.
They treated every guest like they were family.
He was hoping that extended to his request. “About dessert, is it possible for us to take it down into your beautiful garden and eat it on the grass while we look at the stars?”
“Your woman would enjoy this?”
He nodded. “Yes, very much.”
“This is problem. She may ruin her pretty dress.” The server tapped his chin with his fingers. “I will ask my nonna for a blanket. One moment.” He didn’t wait for Gunnar to agree but hurried off to find his grandmother.
Gunnar leaned against the counter. From here, he could see Jorja through the window. She sipped on her wine and smiled to herself. He wondered what put it on her lips. Was it too much to hope that he was the cause?
The server returned with a bundle in his arms. “My nonna, she told me the perfect place for you in the garden. If you follow me, we can collect your lady.”
“Thank you very much.” Gunnar smiled to relieve Jorja’s uncertainty; he could see it on her face as they walked to the table. “Will you come with me?” He held out his hand with his palm up. “I have something I’d like to share with you. I promise it’s not far.”
“Yes.” She placed her hand in his and he helped her to her feet. But this time, instead of releasing her, he tugged her into his side and placed one arm over her shoulders. He felt her shiver. “Are you cold?”
“No, I promise,” she reassured him. “Just a weird feeling.”
Yeah, he felt it too.
They followed Luciano’s grandson out into the family’s own private garden. Gunnar whistled when he saw the view all the way down the valley to the coast. “Wow.”
“It’s beautiful, no?”
“It is,” he agreed and took the blanket from the boy. “Where would you like to sit?” he asked Jorja. “Pick your spot.”
She pointed to a spot where they could see the lights of La Spezia laid out before them. “Here, please.”
“Perfect.” He shook out the blanket and laid it on the ground, then helped her sit. “Want me to take off your shoes?”
“I’m not sure if I should. I may not want to put them back on again.”
“I’ll carry you back to the truck if that happens,” he promised.
He picked up her legs and put them in his lap before working on first one buckle and then the other.
“You can see my house from up here.” He took off the shoes and held them up to study the heels.
“You were correct,” he told her seriously, “these aren’t stabby heels, but you forgot to mention that they are stompy ones. ”
“They are good for stomping, aren’t they?” She took the shoes from him and tossed them to one side. “I haven’t needed to make sure of that yet, though.”
“Good, because if it gets to you needing to stomp someone with your pretty shoes, then I’m going to need weapons, and that might mean you’ll have to be the one to call Remi and ask him to bring me bail money.
” He massaged her feet, then cursed himself for being an idiot when her happy sigh made his balls ache.
“Your brother will be thrilled, I’m sure.”
He snorted and they grinned at each other until she lowered her lashes, giving them both some relief from the sexual tension which amped between them with every minute which passed.
She turned back to the view. “Where is your house?”