Page 105 of Homeport

“It’s our second honeymoon.” Enjoying himself, Ryan picked up Miranda’s hand and kissed it. “Right, Abby darling?”

At sea, she stared at him, then responded to his light kick under the table. “Oh, yes. Um . . . we couldn’t afford a honeymoon when we were first married. Kevin was just getting started and I was . . . only a junior exec at the agency. Now we’re treating ourselves before kids come along.”

Stunned at herself, she gulped down wine while Ryan beamed at her. “It was worth the wait. You breathe romance with every inhale in Florence.”

Defying every law of physics, the waiter pushed his way through the excuse for space between the tables and demanded what they wanted.

Less than an hour later, Miranda wanted more wine. “It’s wonderful. It’s a wonderful place.” She shifted in her chair to smile affectionately at a table of Brits who chatted in polite voices while a table of Germans beside them downed local beer and sang. “I never go to places like this.” It all spun in her head, scents, voices, wine. “I wonder why.”

“Want some dessert?”

“Sure I do. Eat, drink, and be merry.” She poured another glass of wine and grinned tipsily at him. “I love it here.”

“Yes, I can see that.” He nudged the bottle farther out of her reach and signaled the waiter.

“Weren’t they a nice couple?” She smiled sentimentally at the space their table companions had recently vacated. “They were really in love. We’re going to look ’em up, right, when we get home? No, when they get home. We’re going home tomorrow.”

“We’ll try the zabaglione,” Ryan told the waiter, eyeing Miranda under lifted brows as she began to hum along with the drunk Germans. “And cappuccino.”

“I’d rather have more wine.”

“Not a good idea.”

“Why not?” Filled with love for her fellowman, she picked up her glass and drained it. “I like it.”

“It’s your head,” he said with a shrug when she snagged the bottle again. “Keep it up, and you’re not going to have a pleasant flight home.”

“I’m a very good flier.” Eyes narrowed, she poured until the wine was precisely a half-inch from the rim of the glass. “See that, steady as a rock. Dr. Jones is always steady.” She giggled and leaned forward conspiratorially. “But Abby’s a lush.”

“Kevin is more than a little concerned that she’s going to pass out at the table so that he has to carry her home.”

“Nah.” She rubbed the back of her hand over her nose. “Dr. Jones wouldn’t permit that. Too embarrassing. Let’s walk down by the river. I want to walk by the river in the moonlight. Abby’ll let you kiss her.”

“That’s an interesting offer, but I think we’d better get you home.”

“I love Maine.” She leaned back, swinging the glass in her hand. “I love the cliffs and the fog and the waves crashing and the lobster boats. I’m going to plant a garden. This year I’m really going to do it. Mmmm.” This was her opinion of the creamy dessert set in front of her. “I like indulging.” She set the glass down long enough to dive a spoon in. “I never knew that about me,” she said with her mouth full.

“Try the coffee,” he suggested.

“I want the wine.” But when she grabbed for it, he snatched it up.

“Can I interest you in something else?”

She studied him thoughtfully, then grinned. “Bring me the head of the Baptist,” she ordered, then collapsed into giggles. “Did you really steal his bones? I just can’t understand a man who’d steal the bones of a saint. But it’s fascinating.”

Time to go, Ryan decided, and quickly dug out more than enough lire to cover the tab. “Let’s take that walk, honey.”

“Okay.” She popped up, then had to brace a hand against the wall. “Oh my, there’s quite a bit of gravity in here.”

“Maybe there’s not as much outside.” He scooped an arm around her waist and pulled her through the restaurant, laughing himself as she called cheerful goodbyes.

“You’re a handful, Dr. Jones.”

“What was the name of that wine? It was lovely wine. I want to buy a case of it.”

“You were doing a good job of working your way through a case.” He guided her along the uneven sidewalk, across the quiet street, grateful they’d opted to walk rather than take the scooter. He’d have had to tie her on.

“I’m going to paint my shutters.”

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