Chapter 33
Sol
Of course when they landed in Palma that afternoon the weather wasn’t that different from the lukewarm, late-winter early-spring day in Barcelona. But still, Sol felt better because they were on an island. And—she really hoped—they were closer to finding Leonardo.
“What now?” she eagerly asked Divya and Luke as he was getting their carry-on suitcases, and Sol’s XXL travel bag from the overhead bin on the plane.
The detectives looked at her, in disbelief, then they looked at each other, and smiled. “Now we deplane, go get the rental car, check in at the hotel, and try to find a place to have dinner that’s hopefully not too far from there,” Luke told Sol.
“Oh, come on!” Sol grumbled. “You’re telling me that’s all we’re going to do today? Don’t you want to try and find Leonardo already?”
“We do,” Luke said, getting Divya’s suitcase from the bin and handing it to the detective. “We’re also knackered and want to make sure to properly nourish and hydrate.”
“And sleep. Thanks, mate,” Divya added. “One of the most common issues in this line of work is people getting burnt out. We don’t want that.”
“But—we’re here!” Sol tried reasoning.
“And we’ll still be here tomorrow, cara,” Luke argued. “It would be different if we had any inkling that Leonardo was in a tight spot or in danger. But as things stand right now… We just get a proper nutritious dinner, good sleep. And tomorrow the search begins.”
She was about to complain again. But she didn’t. She was outnumbered and, once she thought about it, she was a bit tired herself. Certainly hungry.
···
Luke
“You know you never tried making up with me after being so insensitive toward poor Sandro the other day, right?” Sol told Luke once they were back at their hotel room after having shared food and delightful conversation with Divya during dinner.
“Wha?” He was brushing his teeth at one of the two sinks in the open-concept bathroom of the room. He lifted his eyes to look at her through the mirror.
Sol arched one of her eyebrows. “You heard me, Luca.” She was wearing one of his T-shirts as pajamas, and was standing in the middle of the room, her arms folded at her chest.
Luke was fast rinsing his mouth. “What did I do now, you say?”
He turned and went to meet her, standing in front of Sol, close enough to her body but not touching.
“To use Divya’s words, you were a twat to Sandro. You called me sappy too… I didn’t appreciate it, understandably. But you never bothered trying to reconcile with me. And we both know reconciliations are always fun.” She lifted both her brows, teasing.
They sure were. He chuckled. “What brought this up now?” The interview with Sandro had happened two days before.
She pouted. “Other than my willingness to reconcile? I may be a bit tipsy.” The mischief on her face was too delicious.
It was true that they all had gone a bit too happy on the local wine during dinner.
“But for us to reconcile, you’re going to have to tell me what had you so preoccupied a few days ago. ”
Luke sighed.
Sol nostrils flared, her eyes caught and held his. “What now?”
“Not sure this is the best moment,” he admitted.
She arched one of her eyebrows. “For?”
He shrugged. He had serious doubts that it was the right moment to have the title conversation.
They were in the middle of an investigation.
He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say, as he’d been preoccupied about finding Leonardo and not thinking about how to present to Sol so that she’d realize she needed to propose to him.
But then again, Leonardo wasn’t the only one who had a soft spot for beaches and islands—Sol did too.
Winter—her most loathed season—was about to be over and they were in Mallorca.
It wasn’t lost on Luke that their trip to Menorca a few months before had been the first one they’d taken as a couple, and it had helped solidify the relationship—after that it had almost tacitly been decided they’d gone from a first-steps romance to a solid one.
Being on a sister island sure could help him now, right?
“What if I told you that I’d like us to take another step in strengthening our relationship?” Oh god, that sounded so bloody technical and heartless. And Sol was making faces at him.
“I don’t know if I follow. Isn’t it super strong already?” She was scrunching her nose.
“Yeah, of course but we could, you know, make it even more evident.” He sighed. He sounded ridiculous. He needed to stop with the euphemisms. “I suppose I’d like to know what are your thoughts on marriage?”
Sol
Was Luke asking a twice-divorced woman her thoughts on marriage?
Her go-to answer after the second divorce had been, “Never again. Just don’t.
It’s not worth it.” But thinking about it now.
Sol wasn’t sure if it was that Luke was shirtless and that always made her brain work less sharply, or that they were in Mallorca and she tended to just be carefree and happy on islands, or that she was most definitely tipsy, or what the hell.
But she was—open to maybe considering it?
Oh god. She was hopeless.
She coughed, cleared her throat. “Is this a general question about what I think about the institution or do you mean between two specific people?” It never hurt to double-check.
He grinned in that way that made her brain even mushier. “Specifically between you and me, cara.”
As much as she just wanted to tell him: “Whatever you want.” And just make love already, she owed him the truth. “To be honest, I’m scared shitless of domesticity.”
He blinked several times, as if he wasn’t expecting that answer. “We’re already living together. What do you think would be different—more domestic?”
She was the one to rake nervously at her hair now, absolutely aware that his warm, brown eyes hadn’t left her face for one second.
“You have a point and it’s true that I was terrified things would change for the worse, for the mundane, for the boring, with us living together.
And they haven’t. But what if you just stop hugging me lazily first thing when we wake up in the morning, or looking at me as if I’m the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen? ”
The grin was more mischievous than ever. “You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You see, I don’t want to lose that!”
“Precisely. You won’t.”
She pinned him in place with her eyes. “So you’re telling me, marry you and you’re going to keep looking at me that way?”
“Yes. But I was hoping you’d be the one to tell me to marry you. Not the other way around.” The smile deepened.
Luke really knew her.
In hindsight, Sol would have proposed then and there. And start with the celebrations already. But they were most regrettably interrupted.