Page 15 of The First Time

Layla manages to charm her way to the last open table outside. The restaurant is on the outskirts of the town, so we also have views of the mountains and the lake.

“Should we order some wine?” she whispers like she’s asking me to do something illegal.

I chuckle. “It’s vacation. Don’t you know you can drink alcohol morning, noon, or night on vacation without any guilt?”

“So, if I order a bottle, you’ll drink it with me?”

“I think I’d be okay with that. As long as you pick out my lunch for me. This is mostly in Italian, and I don’t know what I’m reading.”

“Done.”

She smiles, and I realize I like it when she forgets that she hates me. I wonder how long it will last.

After the waiter has poured our wine, Layla puts in our food order in Italian. I have no idea what I’m about to eat, but I kind of like the mystery of it all. I lean back in my chair and rest my hands behind my head. I must admit, it’s nice being on a vacation. I’ve been working like crazy this past year. It’s taken a toll on me.

“Have you thought about your restaurant at all since we’ve been here?” I ask Layla.

“Ugh, yes. I’m doing everything in my power to trust Zane and not check in on him.”

I’ve met Zane a bunch of times. I’m pretty sure he’s tried flirting with me in hopes of flipping me to the other team. He’s a good guy, though. Works hard and is good to Layla.

“Zane can manage. You know he’s more than capable.”

“I know. It’s just…that place is my baby.”

“And you’ve done an incredible job with it. You have it running like a well-oiled machine.” Her eyes open wide as her mouth falls slightly. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” she shakes her head. “I’m just surprised to hear you say that. I didn’t think you cared much for my restaurant.”

“Wait…what? Why would you think that?”

She turns her face away from me as she answers. “Just always seems like you do what you can to avoid going there or forcing Asher to pick somewhere else.”

I stiffen in my seat, momentarily abashed. “Shit, I never knew you noticed that. I just got the impression that you didn’t want me there. But you have to know,” I lean forward and grab her hand, “I think your food is incredible.”

A blush runs along her cheeks. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

Just as I’m pulling my hand away from hers, our food comes out. The waiter places some kind of pasta in front of me. Whatever it is, it looks better than anything I’d eat in America. It’s not pasta drowning in a sauce.

“Wow, look at this,” I say as I get a glimpse of her plate. “I can’t wait to dig in. What am I eating exactly?”

She looks amused as she scoops up some of her food. “You are eating tagliatelle in a wild boar sauce, and I have risotto with braised veal in a lemon sauce.”

We both eagerly grab our forks and start to eat.

It ends up being a surprisingly peaceful lunch. Neither of us seem to annoy one another. Maybe that’s what good food and wine do to people; makes them get along.

We take the water taxi back to our hotel and change into bathing suits to take a dip in the pool while we enjoy some drinks.

As soon as we get to our lounge chairs, I reach behind my back and take my shirt off. I don’t miss the gleam of interest in her eyes as they roam my body.

I guess there’s one benefit to working in construction. I may not bring in the kind of money that most women dream of, but the manual labor has blessed me with a body that tends to make women go crazy.

She bites her bottom lip, never tearing her eyes away. My dick grows hard watching her reaction. I try to hide my smirk, even though I want to gloat and point out how she’s still attracted to me, even if she hates me.

Then karma slaps me across the face when she takes off her black coverup. Her white bikini doesn’t cover much. Her large breasts are spilling out of each side of the triangles. I look over and see a group of men on the other side of the pool pouring all their attention on Layla.

I know it’s not my damn place to say anything to her, but I don’t relish the idea of other men seeing so much of her body.

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