Chapter 6
Chapter Six
M y early morning started with me bounding out of bed. Maybe last night’s spa treatments had reinvigorated my body. My mind too seemed sharper. It was like I was seeing things clearer, or at least with more clarity. I showered, and still smelling the lovely coconut shampoo from last night, I opted out of my regular morning ritual of washing my unruly curls.
Hopefully I won’t regret that decision later.
Down in the restaurant, I sweet-talked Gunta into making a cappuccino for me and an espresso for Roman in takeaway cups. Despite his usual scowl and never-ending complaints of being too busy and too tired, Gunta agreed. Maybe it was my dazzling smile that impressed him. I ate a slice of toast on the run as I hustled my group out the door to the bus that I assumed Roman would already have parked down the street.
With everyone I could find in the restaurant and lobby moved on, I grabbed the two takeaway coffees and headed for the bus to do a body count. Roman was hauling a suitcase the size of a Mini into the luggage hold, and I had a quick peek at his butt as he did it. Okay, so maybe not so quick. But there was no harm in that. Based on the expressions on Paula and Carla’s faces, who were standing nearby, they were enjoying the early morning show too. It seemed even lesbians got a buzz out of checking out Roman’s butt.
I didn’t blame them. It was a mighty fine European attraction to start the day with.
I chuckled at my own tour-guide joke. With a smile on my face and a spring in my step, today was going to be a great day. “Hey, ladies, how are you both this morning?”
They flashed their cheeky smiles. “Great, thanks.”
“And you?” Carla asked, twirling her hair around her finger.
“I’m great too. Can you head on up and grab a seat? We’ll get going soon.”
“Okay.” As she bounded toward the bus door, Paula’s high ponytail swung from side to side like she was twelve years old.
Roman re-emerged from the luggage hold, and I offered him his coffee. “Morning. Espresso with one sugar for the worker.”
“ Grazie .” Grinning, he reached for the cup. “You read my mind.” When he ran his tongue over his lip, my morning got even better. “You seem happy.”
He noticed! I smiled. “Thank you.”
He leaned with his back against the bus. “Why?”
“Why?” I cocked my head. Oh, there were so many reasons why. Watching Roman drink his coffee with the sun shining on his face was just one of them. I could watch him do that every single day and not get bored. “Why not?”
He ran his hand through his hair. “No reason. It’s just . . . you’re not normally a morning person.”
I frowned at that. “I’m not?”
“No. ”
Huh. Nobody had ever told me that before. “Well, this is the new me.”
“I like the new Daisy.”
I turned and slapped my own ass. “Me too.” As I walked away, I could picture the stunning grin on his face.
“Hey, come back here and do that.”
“Gotta go do a body count.”
Listening to Roman’s lovely deep laugh, I climbed the bus steps.
“Good morning. How are all my victims feeling today?” I walked down the aisle, and as I counted the passengers, most of them responded with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Not everyone was a morning person, apparently me included.
Ten people were missing. I climbed back down the steps, and Roman was still there standing in the sunshine, sipping his coffee like he was in a Nespresso commercial. Move on over, George Clooney. There’s some new talent in town.
Aware that I must have looked like I’d inhaled some happy gas, I said, “Still a few more missing. I’ll go round up the troops.”
“What’re you smiling at now?”
“Nothing.”
“I know that smile.” He squinted at me. “What’d you get up to last night?”
I turned to head back toward reception. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“You’ve got some explaining to do, Miss Daisy.” His laughter had me glowing like the sunshine streaming over the rooftops.
Inside, I found four more of my group wandering around aimlessly, clearly waiting for direction. They were probably still drunk from their night at the brewery I’d heard some of them talking about. “Hey, guys, head on out. You’ll see the bus is just a little way down the road. ”
We got away at quarter past six. Not bad considering I had to bang on three doors to wake up six of my tourists.
Day twelve of our tour was a big one. Our first stop was three hours away, and I planned to try and snooze for some of the journey. But the second we got going, and Roman flashed his mischievous expression at me, confirmed my plans for sleep were in trouble.
“So.” Roman kicked the bus into a higher gear. “Last night. What’d you get up to?”
I shrugged, acting all coy. “I went to a spa. Had a few saunas and a swim.”
He turned the bus onto the A13—the main highway we’d stay on for nearly our entire journey to Prague. Then he turned to me, his honey eyes glistening. “And?”
“And what?”
“You’re going to make me do the twenty questions thing, aren’t you?”
I giggled. “You can try.”
He burst out laughing and it was truly delightful to watch. “Someone’s in a cheeky mood.”
I leaned back and inhaled long and deep. Yes indeed.
“Alrighty. Did you meet someone at the spa?”
“I did. Two people actually. Jonas, a local Berliner, and Rebecca, an Aussie girl from Sydney.”
His eyes practically bulged out of his head. “Oh my god. You didn’t?”
I bulged my eyes right back at him. “Didn’t what?”
“Have a threesome?”
“Jesus, Roman. Of course not.”
He shrugged. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“Really?” Blinking at him, I eased out of my chair and stood at his side, clutching the pole attached to the back of his seat. “Have you done it?”
“No.” He glared at me like I’d proposed marriage .
“So, why did you think I’d do it?”
“You know.” A tiny smile curled on his lips. “Daisy chain.”
“Oh my god!” I slapped his shoulder. “You know what it is?”
“You kept dodging around it, so I looked it up.”
“Good. Now you know why I hate my name.”
“I think it’s funny and cute.”
“Oh, yeah, real cute.”
“I’m sure your parents were thinking of the flower reference when they named you, and not the other.”
My parents were probably so stoned it had been impossible for them to think. I huffed. “You don’t know my parents.”
He tilted his head sideways as if trying to look at me straight on, and the sun caught in his beard that was now so thick it completely concealed his manly chin dimple. “So, what did you and Jonas get up to?”
“And Rebecca.”
“And Rebecca?” He wagged his head.
“We just did the spa stuff together—a couple of saunas, a couple of spas, a swim, oh, and a few cocktails at the bar.”
Dragging his eyes from the road, he squinted at me. “There’s something you’re not telling me, and I can tell it’s big. So, if you don’t tell me, I’m going to imagine all kinds of kinky stuff. After all, we were in Berlin. The capital of kink.”
Giggling, I silently agreed. Worried Roman would be thinking the worst of me, I needed to put him out of his misery. “Okay, Mr. Impatient. The spa place I went to was a no-textile resort. As in, no clothes.”
“You were naked! Aha. I knew it. And?” His eyes flared with the question.
As we cruised along the autobahn at eighty miles per hour, I told Roman everything I did at Vabali. Well, nearly everything. I described the fun in the mudroom but left out touching Rebecca’s boobs and the intimate details of Jonas’s schlong.
“I’m so impressed with you, Red.” Roman was positively beaming at me, and it was up there as one of the proudest moments of my life.
“Thank you.” I could walk on water right now.
“Next month, I’m coming with you.”
My jaw dropped.
He blinked at me. “What?”
My fingers strangled the pole as my knees nearly buckled beneath me. “No, nothing. Sounds good.” My voice was verging on helium-inhalation level as I dragged myself back to my seat and flopped down.
Cool, Daisy. Real cool.
Roman turned his gaze back to the road, but I couldn’t drag my attention away from anything other than images of the two of us getting naked together. My girly bits were squirming so much it was a wonder I didn’t slip right off my seat.
God damn it, Daisy. Calm your farm.
Maybe I needed to take up crosswords or something—anything to get my mind off Roman.
After a quick half-hour stop at a tiny café that served the best Black Forest cake in the world—according to the flashing sign out the front, and my opinion, for that matter—we all climbed aboard again.
I settled back on my seat, and with my belly full and the hum of the tires sounding in my ears, I curled my hands beside my head and did something I rarely did—I gave myself permission to have a quick nap.
About two hours later, we pulled into the parking lot of our hotel in Prague. As Roman sorted out everyone’s luggage, I arranged the rooms and distributed keys as each person entered the lobby .
Roman came in last, accompanied by Paula and Carla. Just seeing the ladies together, it was easy to tell how much they were in love—shoulders nudging, smiles on their faces, how comfortable they were with each other. One day I hoped to have what they had.
Not with a woman. Not that there was anything wrong with that. But with a man.
The very thought had my heart weeping, yet at the same time my eyes couldn’t move from Roman. He was like the moon—something that I saw and loved but could never touch.
The ladies strolled up to me and I held out the last two sets of room keys toward them and Roman.
“So, do we meet back down here?” Paula curled her hair behind her ear and the simple diamond stud in her lobe glistened in the lobby lights.
“Yes.” I glanced at my watch. “In thirty minutes.”
“Okay.” Paula smiled at Roman, then with groovy swaggers, the pair tootled toward the elevators.
Forty-five minutes later, our tour started at the top of the hill at Prague Castle—a ninth-century fortress that, according to the Guinness Book of Records , was the largest ancient castle in the world. I could spend hours in that magnificent building, but given our time constraints, I had to make it an express tour that barely touched the surface of its history.
After that, we headed down an enormous set of steps that offered an incredible view of Prague. For the first time ever, I paused at one of the many landings to admire the city that was once ‘the capital of the Kingdom of Bohemia’. It was a vista I’d been taking for granted for over two years.
Not today. Today I took my time, and I even snapped a few photos. That too was something I’d never done.
Roman stepped up to my side. “Magnificent view. ”
He made my view even more spectacular. “Yes, it is. Hey, let’s get a selfie.”
We turned so the city was over our shoulders, and with his arm around my back, nudging us together, I took a few photos of the man who made me swoon.
Halfway down the hill, we stopped at Steiner & Kovarik—a boutique shop selling some of the best chocolates in the world. “Head on in, guys. And trust me, if you don’t try anything else, at least taste the hot chocolate.”
As everyone disappeared into the tiny shop, I curled around the corner and tapped out a message to Zali. ‘Guess who?’ And sent her the photo that captured Roman’s honey eyes perfectly.
My phone buzzed.
Holy fuck, babe. No wonder you drool over him
I giggled.
Told you. BTW, thanks for the Vabali suggestion
You went! OMG so jealous. Was it good?
It was incredible. Quick question, have you ever touched another woman’s boob? You know, with your beauty stuff
No. OMG. SQUEEEEEEE! What did you do?
Oh, shit. I’d thought for sure she would’ve done that. Only me then?
As I giggled to myself and waited for my group to indulge in their chocolate overload, I told her all about my mud experience with Jonas and Rebecca. But unlike my chat with Roman, I left nothing out.
Holllyyyyyy fuck. Now I’m really jealous
Roman stepped out of the doorway, glanced at me, and as he walked in my direction, I tapped a final message to Zali.
Gotta go. Roman’s coming. Love you
Give that hottie a kiss for me
I quickly shoved the phone into my pocket.
“You texting Azalia?”
“Yeah.”
“How is she? And Kane?”
How was it that he could be so perfect in every way? “They’re good.”
He tilted his head, and I spied a touch of chocolate on his lip.
I pointed at it. “You, ahh, you missed a bit.”
His tongue curled out and slicked his lip. “Thanks.”
Oh, trust me, the pleasure was all mine.
The rest of my group began spilling from the shop carrying enough paper bags to confirm the clever chocolatier was going to stay in business for some time to come.
After a body count confirmed everyone had emerged, I continued leading the tour. We stopped for photos at the graffiti-covered Lennon Wall, walked over the spectacular Charles Bridge, and after stopping at several other significant sites, we boarded our glass-covered boat.
During the next hour, we had a late lunch as we cruised up the Vitava River. And as usual, the backpackers made the most of the unlimited wine and beer at the bar.
By the time we stepped off the boat, my group was much more boisterous as I led them toward my favorite little corner of Europe . . . Old Town, Prague. I pointed out a few more fabulous buildings and then we waited outside the Old Town Hall for one of the major attractions.
We were a touch early for the five o’clock ‘show,’ so I yelled out to my group, “Gather ’round, guys.” The clock had many, many aspects worthy of mentioning, however, I’d learned over the years that most of my tourists were not interested in the stars or the moons. They were interested in the quirky stuff.
They squeezed in tighter around me and I elevated my voice. “This is the Prague Astronomical Clock. It was built in 1410 and is the oldest one of its kind that’s still working. The four figures at the sides of the clock represent four things that were despised in the fourteen hundreds. And some qualities that are still considered undesirable now for that matter. There’s Vanity, which you’ll see is a man admiring himself in a mirror. See, ladies? Even back in the fourteen hundreds men were vain.” I poked my tongue at Roman. “Next is a man holding a bag of gold. Any guesses what that represents?”
“Wealth,” someone yelled out.
“Close.” I shook my head.
“Greed,” another hollered.
“Correct. On the other side you can see the skeleton. It stands for death, of course. But keep your eye on him because he strikes the time on the hour.”
I pointed at the last figurine—a bearded man in what could have been considered a toga, playing a musical instrument. “I’ll buy the first drink for whoever can guess what the last ‘evil’ is.” I emphasized the word evil with finger quotes.
“Dancing.”
“Singing.”
They fired words at me, no doubt driven by the promise of free grog.
“No and no.”
“Nudity,” Roman said .
“No, of course not.” I winked at him.
When they went quiet, I said, “Lust and earthly pleasures.”
They all groaned, and their timing was perfectly matched to a ringing bell that signified the start of the show.
I spun to the clock that had been doing its thing and drawing crowds for more than six hundred years. Miniature puppets came out of little doors and spun around. Dials turned. Tiny characters bobbed up and down. Twangy music played. And two minutes later, it was all over.
I turned to my group just as it ended—always keen to watch their reactions.
Roman leaned into my ear. “Well, that was boring.”
I chuckled. “That’s why it’s listed on TripAdvisor as one of the most overrated attractions in the world. But you’ve gotta see it, right?”
He shrugged and did that cute scrunch of his nose. That was a gotta-see-it moment right there.
I put my hand in the air. “Righty-ho, guys. Follow me.”
From the clock, we cruised along a couple of the quaint cobblestone streets to the Jewish quarter, and finally back to the Old Town, where I led them down a narrow lane and to the entrance of a tavern that’d been serving beer since the fifteenth century.
As I guided my group down a dark set of stairs that took us underground, we passed a candle that had what was probably two centuries’ worth of wax around it.
Entering this tavern was like entering a scene from Game of Thrones . The room itself was dome-shaped like an underground bunker. Candles dotted every table and glowed from ancient medieval candelabras dangling from the ceiling. They provided just enough filtered light for us to see.
As I directed my group to two long, pre-booked tables, I tried to ignore the glares from the other ten or so diners who were here before us. The poor buggers were likely having a nice, relatively quiet meal until we arrived.
Fortunately, the staff were so organized I didn’t need to do much more. Roman and I sat side by side, our thighs wedged together in a way that was fast becoming my favorite position. The beer and cider flowed, compliments of the unlimited beverages package that Vacation Dreamz offered, and our meal orders were taken.
To get us fed and out of the restaurant as quickly as possible, there were only four meal choices. I’d tried them all. The food was, in my opinion, light on flavor but massive in quantity. The pork knuckle alone was an eye-opener. It was about the size of a child’s head and required an extra-large plate to accommodate the meat and the generous quantity of mashed potato.
I tried to explain to Roman how big the pork meal was, but he still chose it. I couldn’t wait to see his expression when it arrived.
My choice was the same one I’d had on my last twenty or so visits—the vegetarian option. Pumpkin ravioli in a creamy cheese sauce.
As quickly as my backpackers drained their drinks, the scantily clad waitresses filled them again. The food was just as quick, and within twenty minutes of us sitting, the meals began arriving.
Roman just about fell off his chair at the sight of his pork knuckle. He eyeballed the meal then grinned at me. “Holy shit. I’m never going to eat all that.”
I nudged my shoulder to his. “I told you.”
Standing, I raised my chunky beer glass and tapped it with my knife to attract everyone’s attention. “Quiet down, you lot.” They took a bit to be hushed, and I was sure the silence was a relief to the four patrons still seated at the other tables. “Just a quick reminder that this is the last stop for today’s tour. So, after this you’re on your own. Try not to get lost. Or arrested.” I pointed at Tom, the Aussie footballer whose reputed idea of fun was streaking naked up the main street. Not that he’d done it on my shift . . . yet.
He saluted me with a wink. “Yes, boss.”
I waited until him and his mates settled their laughter down a touch. “The good news is tomorrow you can have a bit of a sleep in because you don’t need to be on the bus until eleven.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Paula hollered, and a few of the men agreed.
“Okay, so let’s toast.” I raised my beer glass. “To travel and exploring and getting pissed.”
They cheered, gulped at their beers, and then settled right back into a ruckus that made the restaurant sound like there were a thousand people crammed into the tiny room.
Roman tucked into his pork, and by the expression on his face, he was enjoying it. My ravioli was a bit too soft and a bit too bland, but I was hungry so I soldiered on.
“Would you like to try some?” Roman held his fork toward me with some meat on it.
It was such a simple, innocent offer, but my bloody heart galloped like he’d offered to lick chocolate off my tits. I curled my lips through my teeth, and trying to simmer my outrageous thoughts, I said, “Yes please,” and opened my mouth.
That was a new first for me.
And what a glorious thing it was watching him study my lips as he placed the food onto my tongue. The way my damn body was twitching all over the place, it was like it was just the two of us sharing this moment.
He returned to his meal, slicing a chunk of meat off the bone.
Clearly, the earth hadn’t moved for him .
I returned to my meal, but with my next mouthful it occurred to me that I should offer him some of my ravioli. Splitting a ravioli pillow in half, I scooped it up with some of the rich cheese sauce and held it toward him. “Your turn. Want some?”
“Sure.” He opened his mouth. I pushed it in, and he smiled at me and licked his lips.
We just had a moment.
At least . . . I think we had a moment.
It was so stupid, but as the two of us resumed eating our meals and chatted away like we’d known each other forever, I felt like our relationship had surpassed some sort of invisible line. A line that said we were no longer just friends. But I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what we were.
I, as usual, was reading way too much into something so simple.
I gulped at my cider, hoping the alcohol could take the edge off my buzzing brain.