Page 47 of Royally Roma
She pulled the scooter to a stop against a beige-stuccoed building and glanced over her shoulder at him—the Great Distraction. “The open-air market is today. We’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”
“Sounds charming,” he said, climbing off the back of the Vespa and pulling off his helmet.
Charming?This wasn’t a date. It was a shakedown.
She locked the scooter and led him past the flower vendors into the zigzag maze of white tents and awnings. Every so often she glanced over her shoulder to find him trailing six feet behind her, seemingly mesmerized by piles of radishes or rows of shiny purple eggplant.
She shook her head, tapped her foot, and waited until he caught up. The man had the attention span of a squirrel. Honestly, it was as though he’d never set eyes on a farmer’s market before.
Just as they neared the exit, she turned to find him missing. Her heart leaped to her throat, and for an agonizing second she thought he’d given her the slip. But no. There he was, two booths behind her, examining a display of ripe plum tomatoes.
She jammed her hands on her hips. “Do you really want to keep your secretary waiting?”
He glanced up and ignored her question. “Look at these tomatoes. Aren’t they spectacular?”
He pronouncedtomatowith an ahh sound, rather than the hard Americana. Where had he said he was from again?
Julia marveled again about how little she actually knew about him. She was glad she hadn’t slept with him. It was a stroke of luck that he’d turned her down. She should be thanking her lucky stars right now.
The aproned farmer manning the booth grinned at Nico. “Ti piace?”You like?
Nico nodded and aimed his devastating smile at the farmer, who promptly plucked two huge tomatoes off a vine and offered them to him. “Per te. Prendere.”For you. Take.
“Oh, I couldn’t.” Nico shook his head.
The burly man in the apron grinned and nodded furiously, shoving the tomatoes toward them. “Per favore.”
No wonder Nico never carried money. He didn’t need to, apparently.
She watched as he took the precious fruit, and the farmer beamed as if Nico had done him a favor.
“Grazie,” Nico said.
“You’re not really going to eat that, are you?” she asked as soon as they were out of earshot. “Those tomatoes are stolen.”
“I beg your pardon.” He looked at her in mock horror. “They were a gift.”
“You manipulated that farmer.” Did he not realize how persuasive that smile of his could be? Julia wasn’t buying it for a minute.
“I was being nice.”
She crossed her arms. “How do you sleep at night?”
“I manage.” He bit into one of the tomatoes with as much gusto as if it were an apple. Juice ran down his chin and onto his hand, dampening the perfect white cuff of his shirt.
He looked so silly that she laughed, despite herself. With a wink, Nico handed her the other tomato. Their fingertips brushed as she took it. Nico’s gaze softened, and his smile suddenly turned bittersweet around the edges.
Julia cradled the tomato in both hands and clutched it to her heart. She had the horrible feeling he was about to say good-bye while they had one last moment alone before they reached Café Rocha. It wasn’t until she stood there, looking him in the eyes and holding that silly tomato, that she realized how very much she dreaded hearing it.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t say it. Please.”
She compressed her lips together to stop them from trembling as Nico reached to cup her face.
Why was this so hard? It shouldn’t be. She should be doing backflips at the thought of ridding herself of him, once and for all.
“Not everyone is out to hurt you, Julia. Present company included, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary,” he said softly. “I hope you remember that.”
He let her go and took a backward step. Just a small one, but it was enough for her to appreciate the moment for what it was—a return to normal. For both of them. Their strange, sweet time together was coming to a close.
