Page 12 of Marry Me in Rome

Matteo looked out over the city, a warmth in his eyes. “You won’t. Rome is like a new lover, full of mystery waiting to be solved.”

“So it’s an onion.”

He gave me an odd look.

“You know. Rome has layers. But you can only see the top one, and when you pull it back, then you start to see more layers. No matter how many you peel away, there are always more.” I was rambling again, so I chuckled. “Never mind. It sounded better in my head.”

He examined me for a long moment. The warmth in his eyes hadn’t faded, which made me shift under his gaze. Especially since he’d just used the word ‘lover’ to describe his city. An answer to my question, perhaps. A man tied to the home heloved and no one else. Somehow, it made him even hotter. Did he cherish his freedom as much as I did mine?

“You, Jillian Travell,” he said, “are the most fascinating onion I’ve met in a while.”

Yeah. Walked into that one, I guess. “I hope you’re referring to my many layers and not a smell issue.”

He ignored my attempt at lightness. “You have more layers than you want people to think. I just can’t figure out why you try so hard to hide them.”

It wasn’t that I tried to hide anything. I simply displayed the parts of me that I wanted everyone to see—the happy extrovert with an effortless style and a wide smile. The sister who sacrificed for the relationship. The daughter who swallowed back her pain.

The type of woman who was everything her family needed, who could never be left behind or forgotten.

I swallowed hard. “This from a man who refuses to talk about himself without a reward? Seems a little hypocritical, if you ask me.”

He paused.

I waited.

Any second now, he’d shoot back another retort and our little game would continue. This conversation would remain as surface-level as ever simply because I refused to give him more than he gave me. Which was, conveniently, nothing.

Matteo patted his dog’s head as he spoke. “Until last year, I lived with my younger sister, my grandmother, and my mother. Now I live alone. I rent the apartment above my workplace.”

Okay. Unexpected, but a good start. “So no lover besides your beautiful Rome.”

He looked away. “Not anymore.”

I lifted an eyebrow, but his lips were pressed together as if revealing even that much was painful. So I didn’t ask him to clarify that last comment.

“Where do you work?” I asked.

“A few minutes south of downtown.”

“Not where. I mean, what do you do?”

“That I’d rather not tell you yet. What I will tell you, though, is that my mother didn’t appreciate my leaving the family business. That’s why I moved out.”

He couldn’t tell me his profession, but he could tell me about his family’s drama. Except for the word “yet.” What would have to happen in order for him to trust me with that information?

“That’s crazy,” I said. “I can’t believe she kicked you out over that.”

“Actually, I left. Now you know nearly as much about me as I know about you. Since you have a habit of withholding your feelings, at least with your sisters, I withdraw my earlier offer of surprising you again. You get to choose where we go next. No more dragging you around the city against your will.”

My finger itched to grab my phone and pull up the list, but for the first time, the thought of crowds making it difficult to talk made me pause. “Where were you going to take me before?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

He paused. “My favorite bridge. It isn’t far.” He laughed at my sour expression. “Clearly you haven’t been in Rome long enough to appreciate our bridges. But again, we’ll see whatever you want.”

Exploring Matteo’s favorite places across the city seemed far more fascinating than my generic list that everyone followed. I had an actual local guide, something few tourists got to experience. The fact that his cheek was slightly rough and his breath smelled like mint was a bonus.

---