Page 24 of Irreplaceable

“Have you done much exploring since you’ve been here?” she asked between bites.

I shook my head. It was embarrassing to admit, but my life was so hectic and privacy so rare, that I’d mostly relaxed at the house. Well, apart from a few excursions to town, which had always ended with me playing soccer with the kids.

Her question was a good reminder of what this was—a vacation fling. Nothing more. Even though it felt like more.

“Have you tried much of the local cuisine?” she asked.

“Why would I when I have a five-star chef on-site?”

“True.” She tilted her head. “But it’s fun to explore the local culture and food.”

“What would you suggest?”

“Oh boy.” Her eyes sparkled like they had when she’d talked about photography. “Where to start? Well, the market has some great finds. This dress and my earrings came from there.”

I nodded, taking my time to appraise her. “What else?”

“Snake fruit. Have you tried it?” I must have made a face because she said, “Yeah. Weird name, right?”

“Yes. What’s it like?”

“It looks like a snakeskin, which peels off like a lychee. Inside, it has a similar taste and texture to an apple.”

That didn’t sound so terrible.

“Maybe when my ankle is healed, we can go into town and find some.”

I chuckled, her enthusiasm infectious. Was it the wine, or was she always like this? I was coming to think it was just who she was.

As my nonna had always told me—you could tell what kind of heart someone had from their eyes. Harper’s were filled with light. There was sadness, sure, but also a sense of wonder and delight.

After dinner, I handed her the crutches, and we walked to the edge of the pool. She set her crutches aside and relaxed into the lounge chair overlooking the ocean.

She turned to look at me, evaluating me. “I’m really enjoying our time together. Thank you. I know we didn’t meet under the best of circumstances, but you’re a good man.”

I leaned closer to her, lured into her orbit. Even so, I felt the need to warn her. “I’m not who you think I am. And I find that people are typically only ‘nice’ when they think they have something to gain from it.”

“Wow.” She blinked a few times. “That makes me sad, Enzo.”

I lifted a shoulder. “It’s the way of the world.”

“Is that why you invited me to stay here?” One of her crutches started to fall, and she leaned forward, giving me a clear view down her dress. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and my cock jerked to attention. “What are you hoping to gain?”

Your silence.

Your forgiveness.

But for some reason, her opinion mattered to me more than anyone else’s had in a long while.

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