Page 25 of Irreplaceable

CHAPTERSIX

“Ihave a surprise for you,” Enzo said after I’d hobbled down the stairs to join him.

We’d spent the morning in bed together, but Enzo had been gone all afternoon—to where, I didn’t know. In his absence, the staff had taken excellent care of me, and I’d enjoyed a gentle swim in the pool, some reading, and another movie.

“You do?” I smiled, unable to hold back my enthusiasm. I’d stopped offering to pay because I knew it only made him angry. I’d stopped fighting this thing between us too, whatever it was. I might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

“Mm-hmm.” He grinned and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “And I hope you’re hungry.”

“Ooh, a surprise that involves food. I’m liking this more and more.” I smiled as he pulled back, gesturing for me to lead the way to the kitchen.

A couple stood at the counter wearing matching shirts and aprons, their hair tidy beneath their black wraps.

“Good evening,” the woman said, and they both smiled.

“Hello.” I turned to Enzo, my excitement growing. “Ooh. Is this a cooking class?”

He nodded. I was so eager, I nearly jumped up and down before remembering my ankle. I smiled and took a seat at the kitchen counter so I could introduce myself to the chefs. Enzo joined me, his hand on my thigh. And after a brief lesson about Balinese cuisine and the ingredients, we set to work.

We sipped on Bintang beer and learned about the first dish. Every so often, Enzo would lean over to make a comment or kiss me, and each time, the warmth I felt toward him grew. The desire. As much as I was enjoying the class, I was looking forward to being alone with him even more.

After a while, we moved outside, where the chefs had prepared a fire. They demonstrated how to make banana leaf parcels and then placed them over the heat to cook. While we waited, Enzo joined me on the lounge chair, opening his legs and pulling me back against his chest.

The ocean crashed against the shore, and the smells wafting from the fire were intoxicating. We’d transitioned from beer to arak, another local beverage, though with a higher alcohol content. I’d tasted it before but hadn’t remembered enjoying the licorice flavor this much. I couldn’t remember enjoying anything this much in a long time.

I still couldn’t believe Enzo had arranged something so special for me. I wasn’t sure anyone—apart from my girlfriends—had ever taken the time to create an experience that I would want. Something unique and enriching. Something completely delicious.

I turned back to look at him over my shoulder and couldn’t resist kissing his lips. They tasted of licorice and something sinful, and I smiled. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He brushed my hair away from my face and kissed me deeply. Finally drawing back but only to capture my gaze. Something passed between us—an energy or intensity I didn’t know how to describe, but he seemed to feel it too.

“Uccellina…”

“Dinner is served,” one of the chefs said, pulling us out of the moment.

I smiled and dipped my head, while Enzo stood to help me up. We thanked the chefs, and then they left us to enjoy the meal.

I stared at the platter, taking one bite of an item before moving to the next. Enzo chuckled from beside me. “Maybe I should call you colibrì instead of uccellina.”

I tilted my head, the sunset lighting his skin in a way that made it appear golden. God, how I wished I had my camera right then. I could use my phone, of course, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment, so I took a mental snapshot instead, filing it away for later.

“Colibrì?” I asked.

“Hummingbird. You’re always flitting from one thing to the next.” He sipped his arak.

I laughed, knowing it was true. “My family always jokes that I’m a serial hobbyist.”

He furrowed his brow, and I would’ve laughed at his expression were he not so devastatingly handsome.

“I’m forever trying—and quitting—” I rolled my eyes “—new hobbies.”

“Like what?” he asked.

I took a bite of the grilled fish, and it melted on my tongue. So, so good.

“What haven’t I tried? Paddleboarding. CrossFit. Krav Maga. Barre. Yoga. Pole dancing…”

“Pole dancing?” Enzo coughed a few times. “Like a…how do you say…” He paused, searching for the correct word before saying, “Stripper?”

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