Page 23 of The Billionaire's Bad News Baby

“You say that like it’s an insult.”

“Far from it. I’m just admiring it.”

“You have all of this,” she said, waving a hand out in front of them, to the vineyard and the rest of the island beyond, to the waves in the distance. “How can you not be at least a little carefree when this is at your fingertips?”

Still holding onto the open wine bottle, Elio looked out in front of him. She had a point. Elio had a longstanding habit of getting lost in thought and forgetting that it was not socially acceptable to just stop mid-conversation in order to get a handle on your own thoughts.

Speaking of which…

“You do that a lot,” Kayla said with a teasing smile. Elio’s attention snapped back to the present moment and he looked over at Kayla, who still didn’t seem offended.

“Do what a lot?”

“I don’t know… kind of forget that you’re in the middle of a conversation and drift off to another planet.”

“Sorry,” he said, hating how obvious it must be for her to bring it up.

“No need to be sorry,” she said. “But if you’re not going to drink that, I’ll take it off your hands.”

She nodded at the bottle, still cradled in his lap.

Well… what the hell? After everything that had happened over the last few days, what did it matter? He put the bottle to his lips, just like Kayla had done, and took a long drink of the wine he was so proud of. Kayla grinned, a wide, beautiful thing, and he half thought that she might break out into applause. Instead, she took the bottle off of him and drank, a more discreet sip this time.

“Well then, what are we having for dinner?” she asked, turning that megawatt smile in his direction.

Elio wasn’t blushing. Definitely not. If anyone asked, he would deny it until the end of time and then some. But there was definitely a certain heat creeping up the back of his neck that had nothing to do with the sun.

“I’m afraid I can’t live up to your culinary expertise,” he said, unpacking the contents of the tote bag onto the table.

“I wouldn’t dream of holding you to such high standards,” Kayla teased.

“Oh gee, thanks. But I hope this peasant meal will suffice.”

He’d done his best with the ingredients he could find in the refrigerator, and so what he set out on the small table were containers of salad with pine nuts, feta and drizzles of olive oil, toasted bread and different cheeses, capers and fresh tomatoes, with pickles and crostini… Kayla’s smile never faltered as she watched him serve their meal. As much as Elio would deny he was anything remotely close to blushing, he couldn’t ignore the light and airy feeling that her approval sent shooting through him.

“Well,” he said, making a distinct effort to seem cool, calm and collected. “Dig in.”

“Just with hands?”

“I mean, you drank wine from the bottle. Are you seriously worried about using your fingers?”

“No, I couldn’t care less. I just thought I should show some semblance of manners at some point.”

Elio laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I already know you’re a complete heathen.”

“So there’s no use trying to hide it, then?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Oh, well,” she said with a sigh and began picking through the food with an almost holy reverence.

“You said you’d never eaten produce like this before,” Elio said, taking a piece of crostini for himself. “I figured you would like a simple spread.”

“You remembered?” she said, sounding pleased if a little surprised.

“We only had that conversation yesterday.”

“Still. Some people have awfully short memories.”

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