by SJ Molloy
“I’m going to leave you two love birds to it.”
Hazel parts her mouth from Dominic only for a second. “Lexi, please don’t screw this up. Your man…he is one in a million. You won’t get any better. Thank him to the moon and back from us, and keep your phone on so I can call you. Ta-ta.” They begin kissing passionately again. I need to leave before I vomit.
I stroll past my old room, and smile as I trace my fingers over the italic scrolling on the chunky rustic wooden door. Maybe, just maybe there is a chance I do have some true beauty somewhere. Why else would an Italian God be interested in me?
Putting that thought aside, I stroll back downstairs. Stefano accepts my empty fruit cocktail glass and hands me another with a huge smile across his face. I’ll be stopping to use the restroom facilities all afternoon at this rate, but the cold, fresh taste really is quenching my thirst after all the alcohol consumed last night. I thank him and stroll past the kitchen where Nuala—freshly clothed from her morning run—is patiently waiting on Hazel.
“Nuala, Maurizio, I don’t think Hazel will be joining you this afternoon. She is…preoccupied with something else.” I grin sheepishly, blushing at Nuala. Maurizio shake his head while marching around the kitchen, moving produce and repeating the word, ‘Incredibile’.
“Please, do tell?” Nuala eagerly asks.
“Her boyfriend, Dominic, arrived and she’s overjoyed to see him, so I don’t know how much you will see of her. I’m sorry.” I give her a sympathetic smile, actually feeling bad as I know she was looking forward to company her own age, and maybe a break from her vocal mother.
“It’s okay. We’re off on our travels in a few days anyway.”
I rub her shoulder in comfort. “Good luck with Mr. Grumpy Chef today by the looks of it.” I giggle, as does Nuala. I walk outside into the warm sun, and drop my ridiculously overpriced, oversized shades over my eyes. They actually do feel very nice, and have excellent UV protection. I set my fruit cocktail down on the dining table, and I’m instantly drawn to a familiar sound I hear from around the back of the Villa.
The sound of dog’s barking. I feel a little nostalgia coming on as I think about Doris. I walk around, and find a beautiful, rusty-colored Irish Red Setter, a muscular, chocolate-colored Labrador, and a smaller sturdy dog whose breed I do not recognize, pouncing across the lawn. Allegra, dressed in simple denim shorts, a vest, and long rain boots is throwing sticks and balls for them.
The dogs notice me and excitedly run over to say hello, wagging their tails frantically, panting and grinning at me. I can’t resist petting them to remedy my own love for dogs, but I’m guessing they are probably working hunting dogs because Allegra shouts out commands and they obediently sit at my feet. I put my hand up to tell her it is okay and smile. She yells something and the dogs jump and bounce around playfully. I lift a ball and throw it, watching the three of them compete for the race, bumping into each other to fetch it. It surprises me that the little dog gets to it first, dropping it at my feet to throw it again, looking at me with excited eyes. I have the feeling that this game could go on and on.
“What type of breed?” I ask Allegra curiously.
“Segugio Maremmano…she is a Tuscan. Hun…hunt...huntin...g dog,” she stutters.
“She is quick.” I laugh.
Allegra nods her head.
“Are these your dogs?”
“Mmm, no. Franco’s, I care for dogs,” she says, proud as punch.
I spend some time playing with them, not caring if I end up dirty. Throwing a ball behind me, I turn around and watch the dogs run towards it to see Lucca. He’s leaning one shoulder against the stonewall and watching me with his black, sexy shades on, smiling ear to ear. He looks entranced, and my heart races at the sight of him.
Allegra rounds the dogs, but the Irish setter nudges my knee. I can’t stop laughing, knowing he wants to stay and play. After stroking his head, and convincing him to go back to Allegra, I walk towards Lucca as he walks towards me, then wraps his arms around my waist. He leans in and kisses my lips, caressing my hair.
“You amaze me. It’s so nice to see you relax and enjoy yourself.” He is so close to me that his lovely hot breath hits my lips. “So, do you like our dogs because they definitely seem to like you, Doc.”
Giggling, I reply, “They are great, and yes, I do love dogs. I have my own at home—a gun dog.”
“Something else I’ve learned about you, Doc. I can’t wait to meet her.”
“You might have to fight for my attention. She’s overly protective, and likes to keep me safe. That’s why I picked her.”
Lucca sighs, then frowns, his forehead creasing his brow. “Come on, Marco has a car waiting for us.”
“Where are we going?” I ask as he holds my hand and walks me back around to the front of the villa.
“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, then lifts my hand up and kisses my knuckles. “I’m just going to fetch my bag and wash up. Two minutes.” I start to walk past the entrance and I am enthralled looking at a stunning silver Aston Martin convertible car. I really don’t know much about cars, but this make is obvious. It’s sleek, attractive and looks very classy. I frown, and even though I’m wearing sunglasses. Lucca catches me and laughs deep and sexy as I walk away.
His laugh is so smooth and appealing.
I wash my hands in the restroom, reapply lip-gloss on again, and then head out to meet Lucca and his outrageously expensive car. He’s leaning on the car with one hand in his pocket and the other holding his cell to his ear. Just before I reach him, I stop and stare, taking in the vision. An amazing dark, strapping body, dark, shaggy hair—wavy and wild with a wide fringe that modestly sweeps over his forehead, his eyes, oh those eyes...
I wonder if he has flaws. Surely everyone does, but I just can’t seem to find any. Can anyone be this perfect? I close my eyes and think of his smooth hands caressing my body this morning, giving me butterflies again.
He puts his phone back in his pocket, and opens the door for me. I’m thankful I’ve tied my hair in a ponytail away from my face or else it would be blowing about everywhere with the hood being down.
Lucca climbs in, and puts his hand on my knee. “Are you ready?” he asks. I nod, then remember something.
“Wait. Lucca, before I forget, I cannot believe you arranged and made it possible for Dominic to be here. You should have heard Hazel screaming with joy.”
“So you’re not mad at me?” He looks hesitant. I lean over to take his face in both my hands and kiss him passionately to show my appreciation. “You’re most welcome. I knew that was a good move. Besides, now I get you all to myself.” Smiling, he revs up the engine and heads down the hill towards the main gates.
As he is driving, I feel the sun beating on my face and shoulders and enjoy the cool breeze brushing my skin, I catch a glimpse of myself in the side view mirror, secretly smiling. I really love these sunglasses. I rub my thumb over the diamond Cartier watch; this feels as if I’m in a movie, like I’m acting out someone else’s life in one of those trailer clips. I feel flutters in my stomach. No doubt about it, I definitely have fallen for this archangel who is whisking me away.
Lucca removes his right hand and places it on mine, holding it tightly. He drives effortlessly with a masculine, powerful, confident style. It is so smooth and virile, but I’m not sure if that is Lucca’s driving skills or the model of the car.
Another glance…
Yep, it’s definitely Lucca.
We listen to music from his varied playlist, It’s Time by Imagine Dragons surrounds his sound system, uplifting and appropriate…Apple. My grandpa’s words come to fruition. We chat and while I stare at the beauty of the countryside gliding by me. It’s soothing and relaxing. I think I could shut my eyes, put my trust in Lucca and not be worry about where we’re going.
Shit, I have it bad.
I keep my eyes open and not because I’m scared, but because I can’t fill my gaze enough with this handsome unbel
ievably attractive man. I drink him in, sometimes having to swallow a few times and blink my eyes. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this vision. I know my holiday is going to have to come to an end, and I will need to face reality
Fuck!
File W for Wishing. Wishing these special moments will never end.
I think we are traveling through the Chianti Hills—winding roads of beautiful, overlapping, textured, dark and bright green curves decorated with tall, slim, triangle trees outlining the horizon. Colorful flowers catch my eye, stretching through roaming valleys. We carry on through the region, the roads getting slimmer and sharper. I’m feeling a little nauseous, but I won’t tell Lucca that. We travel uphill, and I see a magnificent ancient building that looks like a castle at the top.
“Castello di Brolio,” Lucca announces as we arrive. I’m speechless. I thought his grandparent’s villa was aesthetically pleasing to the eye, but this historical site has just literally astounded me.
Lucca makes a phone call in Italian, then opens my door for me to get out and stretch my legs. Two men arrive at the open car park and welcome Lucca warmly. He introduces me to Alberto and Tomasso. They stare at me as if they can’t draw their eyes away, and Lucca shuffles his feet with slight aggravation.
“Gentlemen, can you lead the way?” He gestures towards the main building, wrapping his arm around my lower back. There are tourists everywhere, taking photos and filming their families. As we are so high up, I turn around to look at the views—we are set in a medieval forest of towering pines, and the views are stunning; miles and miles of sprawling vineyards and random Tuscan villas. Lucca tells me that the castle dates back to the 1100’s and is the oldest winery in Tuscany. It belongs to the Ricasoli family and has been passed down for many generations. In the museum, we view the family’s collection of armoury and the first newspaper Ricasoli ever wrote from hundreds of years ago sealed for view, covered in soil and vineyards.
I love this. It is so authentic. History at its finest with old world charm. I take Lucca’s hand and squeeze it tightly so that he knows I’m enjoying our tour. He leans over and kisses my cheek. I can hear tourists gasping behind us; they obviously have ogling eyes for Lucca too. Practically every female has been drooling over him, pointing and smiling. He obviously attracts a lot of attention.
We enter the chapel next, and I gasp at the beauty, the ornate sculptures, artwork, biblical statues and grand ceilings, symbolic structures, religious scriptures, and insignia. It is authentic and inviting. The chapel is a large warm open space, filled with calm. I could be completely satisfied sitting here for hours, reflecting in thought and prayer. Lucca uses the holy water from the font to bless himself then lights a candle at the altar, I watch as he crosses his head and body, then bows and shuts his eyes, holding his hands up to his forehead and lowering his head in prayer.
Lucca takes a pew, still bowing his head in prayer. It gives me my own quiet opportunity to say my own prayers. I light four candles and watch the flicker from them dance around with all the other little flames. In turn, I touch the holy water and bless myself. I kneel on the floor and bow my head. My four candles are glowing brightly, each with their own light of hope. I mentally ask God if he will honour and protect me, and see me through another chapter.
I suddenly feel overwhelmed, my eyes tearing up, and I start sobbing at the altar. I close my eyes, slump my shoulders, and sit on my heels, tears streaming down my cheeks. I wish for a spiritual sign, reassurance that God does approve of my decisions and that he doesn’t judge me.
I feel a warm hand around my shoulders, and hot skin pressed into my neck at the side of my head. Lucca grasps both my hands sympathetically and I notice his own emotional turmoil, his wet eyes, tears are straying from his cheeks. We look at each other and press our foreheads together in comfort one another. Quivering in a shaky sob, the ominous tears to my stinging eyes quickly lope down my cheeks and nose until I taste the saltiness on my lips, acting as a barrier and forting my tears. I can’t even wipe them as I won’t let go of Lucca’s hand, so I allow them to stream freely.
I can hear tourists shuffling around behind us into pews. Lucca reaches up and wipes tears from my eyes. I lift my head and notice the light from the candles flicker over him. I feel exhausted, as though my body has been hammered into the ground, but I try to lift my spirit when I notice his stray tear. I use my thumb to wipe across his cheek. We clasp hands and stand to our feet.
Leaving the Chapel, we are escorted to the Castle by way of a back door entrance. We follow Alberto and Tomasso, but he mentions something in Italian to them, and they both turn and leave. When we enter the castle, an attractive looking woman in a tight, black, sleeveless, tunic dress and killer high-heels greets us.
Bubble burst.
She has amazing cheekbones and lush pink lips, big amber-colored eyes like Mr. Carlin’s malt whiskey. Her hair is comparable to mine, but shorter, thick, wavy and dark, kept back with a hair tie. Lucca kisses her on both cheeks, and she hugs him. She’s exhilarated to see him, her eyes alive, her shoulders down and back, pushing her ridiculous chest forward. I think she is trying to impress him, but I’m not impressed. They seem very familiar, too familiar, in fact.
We spend an hour being shown around the private castle, getting a history lesson from the impudent Gina. The castle is enchanting, but I can’t help feeling restless. She takes Lucca’s hand now and then as if they are very close friends and it’s distracting me.
Gina asks if we would like to sample the Chianti Classico wines made here, Lucca reassures me the wines are outstanding. We thank her while she arranges them to be brought up to us, instead of us going to the wine cellars with the other tourists.
I stare at the grand vintage artwork draping the huge stonewalls, trying to evaluate the illustrations depicted in them. Lucca puts his arms around my waist and leans his head into the side of mine. He strokes his fingers over my clasped hands.
“I’d like to take you to the Uffizi gallery on another outing. The art is tremendous, so many great classics.”
“I would like that, thank you.” I say quietly.
“You are so goddamn endearing,” he breathes heavily into my hair, burying his nose in my hair. Gina is shuffling about and coughing, obviously trying to interfere with our intimate moment.
After thirty minutes of tasting the exceptional wine, I notice Gina write something on a piece of card and hands it to Lucca. “This is my new private email address. I notice you haven’t accepted me yet on Facebook. Please don’t leave it as long next time, and do try to make some time to come over for dinner soon.” Gina winks at him.
Right, I definitely don’t like her.
Oh my goodness, did I just mentally think hatred against another female?
Yes.
I feel the wine hitting me as it’s been so long since breakfast. Lucca hadn’t sampled much at all, probably because he’s driving, but I’m getting a little flushed.
He places the card in his pocket. “Gina, thank you for today. I’m very grateful. I want to give Lexi the best sightseeing I can before we go home together.” He says a few words in Italian, then takes my hand and lifts it up to his mouth, kissing it. Gina gasps indignantly at whatever he said in Italian, and her stare blazes right through me, scorching me to ashes. She isn’t happy, and she tries to fake a smile, but is definitely struggling. I feel uncomfortable, but I’m glad she knows where she stands; I actually think I’m enjoying watching her squirm.
I politely thank her. She leans over to kiss me on both cheeks and discreetly whispers into my ear, “You are no different from the rest of us, don’t be fooled. You’ll never get his heart. He has given it only once before, and you don’t even come close to her.” She kisses Lucca, holding him in a tight embrace, then turns on her heels to exit.
Alberto and Tomasso escort us out the back entrance of the castle. I stop to use the public restroom on the way to the car. Staring at the mirror, I’m absolutely shocked and flabber
gasted. She has gotten under my skin. I try to make sense of what Gina just said to me.
Was she warning me away?
She clearly has feelings for him. My stomach is knotting, and I feel anxious and a little apprehensive. Maybe I’m kidding myself. It does seem too good to be true. I know my heart is going to get broken, I just know it. I’m in a holiday fantasy and need to face reality when I go home.
How would Lucca fit into my complicated, sheltered life?
I think about the one person he loved...loves? I place my face in hands and sigh.
What are you doing, Lexi?
I pull myself together, spray some perfume, reapply lip-gloss, and head out.
Chapter 16
Confessions
“Hey, I thought I was going to need to come and get you. Are you okay?” Lucca asks hesitantly.
“Yes, I just needed to cool down.” I’m not talking about the weather, but I don’t say that to him. He watches me cautiously, placing his thumb on his temple and rubbing his forehead. I know it’s troubling him.
“Come on, we need to go. I need to get you fed, you must be starving.”
I smile and allow him to open the car door for me. Looking in the side mirror, I’m thankful for the shades as they are hiding my worried eyes. We drive back down the winding roads, and I see the beautiful vision of the castle on the hill in the rear view mirror. My empty stomach is churning a little from the sharp corners, winding roads and wine. I close my eyes until we get back on wider roads.
“Lexi you are very quiet what’s wrong?” He finally breaks the silence.
“Gina, was she your girlfriend once?”
“She was never my girlfriend. She is a friend. I’ve known her for years, and her family are friends with ours." He shifts in his seat a little.
