In Italy for Love

Chapter 26

26

Sitting in his own kitchen had never felt like a roller coaster before, but waiting for an answer to his question had Alex’s stomach lifting and dropping out of his control. Jules looked at him straight on without flinching, seeing all the feelings behind his question but not shying away from the difficult truth.

Still, he didn’t want to imagine how she’d react if she knew about Laura’s last days, as much as he wanted to explain himself. Perhaps if she just accepted his grief the way she seemed to, he wouldn’t have to tell her. Like that first night, when she’d accepted his inarticulate explanation about why he wasn’t looking for love.

She took a deep breath and leaned close, almost conspiratorially, and the impression of being on her team prickled over him far too pleasantly. ‘I don’t think the answer matters as much as you think it does. I liked you then… and I like you now. If you want?—’

That half an answer was enough of a miracle. He grasped her face in both hands, closed the distance between them and kissed her, lingering, testing – her and himself. With the conversation about Laura in the room like a real ghost, he kissed her with the weeks of wanting he’d stuffed down inside.

Her hand closed in his pullover in a firm grip. Reservations flying from his mind, he grasped her waist and hauled her into his lap. She smiled against his lips, her kisses growing clumsy as he felt her chuckle under his hands.

‘I love how you go a little wild when we do this,’ she murmured, her lips moving to his jaw, lower, sending goosebumps up his chest.

Lifting her head back up, he kissed her harder, losing his fingers in her hair. ‘It’s you,’ he groaned. ‘It’s this?—’

Arco gave a sharp bark and jumped at them, hopping and pawing at Jules as though he thought she and Alex were wrestling.

‘Shh, boy,’ she crooned to the dog. ‘It’s okay.’ He barked again and Jules grimaced.

‘How about we put him to bed in here. He’s got a blanket by the fire. Maybe he’ll get the message that he can relax.’

‘And we continue this… in your bed?’

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. ‘I don’t think we’ll fit in yours and I hear it’s cold up there.’

‘I won’t stay the night,’ she said solemnly, and he almost wished he’d never mentioned that worry to her.

He sighed. ‘It’s not that I don’t want you there.’

‘I suggested it. This isn’t quite a one-night stand any more, but I’m still leaving the country soon. “No expectations” still stands. You’re not breaking any rules.’

‘It’s not rules I’m worried about breaking.’ He wished they didn’t have to have this conversation. He wished it could be as easy as falling into bed together like that first night, but there was too much between them now.

Expecting her to pull away, he was surprised when she brought her hand to his cheek and drew close. ‘I’m a big girl, Alex. I survived my relationship with Luca. You don’t have to worry about me.’

Her comment didn’t make him happy. He turned away when she tried to kiss him. ‘You deserve better,’ he said hotly. ‘But it wasn’t your heart I was talking about anyway. I don’t particularly want to be left behind again.’

If he’d expected her to be shocked by that statement, he was disappointed. She pressed her forehead to his and smiled, an amused glint in her eyes. ‘You’re so sweet, Alessandro Mattelig,’ she said softly, pressing kisses to his cheek and up to his temple.

‘I’ve been bad-tempered and a terrible host,’ he pointed out, but lifted his chin in invitation.

‘You’ll be all right,’ she said, running her hands through his hair and pressing a kiss to his proffered lips. ‘You haven’t known me long.’

Nudging her back with hands on her hips, he gazed at her until he knew she was paying attention. ‘I am going to miss you when you go.’

That finally brought a solemn expression to her face. ‘I suppose I have to believe you, because I’m going to miss you too.’

‘If that’s clear, then let’s put Arco to bed and… have a second-night stand,’ he said, peering sheepishly up into her eyes.

The dog thankfully settled down when the light was off and they closed the kitchen door behind them. There was no sign of Attila, but with a wall between the two animals, they should be safe from unexpected crashes this time.

Taking her hand, he drew her into his room for only the second time, despite the three weeks they’d been housemates. Maybe it wasn’t fair to either of them to get more involved, but he still wanted to show her what she was worth, how stunning and wonderful she was, how she made him feel intensely human – alive , as much as that thought pinched.

She was right, they weren’t breaking any rules being together like this, her skin under his hands and his body fitting to hers. Such a thick haze of gratification settled over him when he opened his mouth on her neck and made her gasp and squirm.

Her smile was familiar when she tugged him onto the bed with her – playful, bright and a little provoking. Stroking his hand along her leg, slowly, thoroughly, from ankle to thigh, he was only more fascinated now he’d seen her every day. Exploring her stubborn jaw with his lips was headier; the way she welcomed him to her was more touching; all the sensations were sharper for the three weeks they’d spent together but not together.

The first time had been so intense it had muddled his thoughts. The second time washed over him with an ache.

In the back of his mind, the better it felt to be close to her, the more he worried he was failing Laura – and Laura’s family and even Jules herself. But it wasn’t enough for him to stop and she held him too tight for his reservations to surface. Her hands roving frantically into his hair, over his shoulders and across his back, she clutched at him, breathed his name and he sank heavily, feeling a little drunk, and then completely overcome.

As Jules struggled to get her breath back, her oversensitive fingers stroked tiny circles on the skin of his shoulder blades, cataloguing the little bumps and indentations. Her mind was soft and sluggish. The world appeared to be in slightly different colours and Alex felt immeasurably precious.

He’d loved his wife with everything in him, struggled to accept the warmth between them now, but that was all part of the miracle of him in her arms. Pressing a kiss to his temple, where he’d dropped his head to her neck, she ran her fingers through his hair, dragging a deep sigh from him.

‘You okay?’ she asked.

‘Yeah,’ he mumbled against her shoulder. ‘At least I think so. I can’t seem to move.’ He managed to flop down next to her, peering at her from beneath half-closed eyelids.

That wasn’t quite what she’d meant with her question, but she hesitated for a moment, wondering if he even wanted to talk about that shadow that came into his eyes sometimes when they were intimate. He probably didn’t want to know that the shadow hadn’t been there the first time. He’d managed to do more than just not mention his wife that night.

She propped herself up on an elbow and ran her eyes down his torso with a small smile, following a moment later with her fingers. Brushing over a sensitive spot at his side, he flinched and snatched her hand away with half a smile.

‘Just wait until I can move again and I’ll get you back,’ he threatened – completely ineffectually in a breathy, exhausted tone.

Noticing the tattoo around his biceps, she lifted herself higher to peer at it. Outlined in black ink were two small leaves with jagged edges and veins drawn in lighter ink work. The image was simple and striking. ‘Bay leaves, right? Does it mean something? It’s the only tattoo you have.’

He nodded, his jaw tight. ‘I had it done when Laura and I got engaged. She didn’t want her name stamped onto my skin, so I got these – alloro, bay leaves. The scientific name is laurus nobilis.’

‘She didn’t mind the symbol instead of her name?’

‘She told me I didn’t have anything to prove,’ he said, his expression distant.

‘Wise woman.’ She meant the words wholeheartedly, but had to swallow a spike of unexpected discomfort as she said them. The woman was dead and Jules was jealous ? Urgh.

‘Very wise,’ Alex agreed, oblivious to her silent struggle. ‘But it wasn’t about that. I got it for me, as a kind of outward sign of something that had changed in me. To celebrate it, make it real. She was happy with that.’

‘You were envious that she got to wear a ring? I’m not sure diamonds would suit you.’

His only response was a narrow look that she completely deserved – for more reasons than he realised.

She gave his shoulder an absent poke to distract herself from what she was about to say. ‘When I asked if you were okay, I kind of meant are you okay with what just happened between us?’

He looked away, rolling his head so he could stare at the ceiling for a few breaths. ‘More okay with it than I probably should be,’ he said flatly.

‘Ah, well that answers my other question.’

‘Other question?’

She bit her lip. He was so adorably earnest with his brow low. ‘About the guilt. It’s strong and healthy.’ Lying down on her side with her head facing him on the pillow, she dared to ask, ‘Does it feel like you were unfaithful just then?’

‘No!’ His eyes fluttered with panic. ‘No, of course not. Why would you even?—?’

‘It does a little?’

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he considered his answer. ‘Yes.’

As she pressed a light kiss to his shoulder, he grimaced as though the gesture were difficult to bear. ‘I just wanted you to know it’s okay if you feel that. I’ve never lost anyone that close, but I know you.’ She trailed off, stumbling over the truth of that statement.

‘It’s not rational, I know. She’s gone and she wouldn’t have wanted me to become a monk, but…’

‘You want to be faithful. Alex, I admire that.’ Truly, she did, even if it made her throat clog up with something stupid like self-pity and he’d known this would happen, the sensitive, thoughtful bastard. She hoped none of this stuff showed on her face.

He glanced at her doubtfully. ‘I’m worried it’s more than that. I like to think that I keep her alive. If she’s still the only one for me, for the rest of my life, then she’s still there – in me. When I feel something good with you—’ He swallowed, hard. ‘A little place inside me writes over her memory and I can’t…’

Her hand gripped more tightly. ‘Nobody’s writing over anything!’ she objected. ‘You told me tonight that you don’t need any special rituals or anniversaries to make you remember. You’ll always love her and that…’ She ran out of words.

‘That makes you feel rejected. Right? We end up here again.’

Her eyes stung. She wished she could deny it, but this second-night stand had tipped her over into feelings she didn’t know what to do with and she only had herself to blame.

‘If it helps, I’m still glad we did it – again.’

‘I think I am too,’ he agreed faintly.

A sudden cry from right outside the window made Jules bolt upright. The shutters on the bedroom window were closed, but the cry sounded again – very close – a howling, plaintive sound. Alex sat up and placed a soothing hand on her arm. ‘It’s just Attila wanting to come in. I must have locked the cat flap.’

‘He has impeccable timing,’ Jules mumbled. ‘I’d better…’ She pulled on her underwear and tracksuit bottoms in a hurry, slipping her shirt over her head as Alex headed for the door in his boxers.

Standing in the hallway behind Alex as he opened the door for the cat, she caught a glimpse of movement in the courtyard, someone near the persimmon tree. ‘Confirming the neighbours’ suspicions about us?’ she joked as she let Arco out of the kitchen. Attila hissed and escaped into Alex’s workshop.

What he said next knocked the breath out of her. ‘You made so much noise, I don’t think any doubt remained.’

‘I—I—’ she scoffed. ‘ You were the one who?—’

‘Shh,’ he said with a smile, grasping her shirt and pulling her closer. ‘I’m joking.’ He kissed her, soft and slow, and all the words they’d exchanged, the mixed-up thoughts and feelings fused and grew into something bright.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and she could happily have wound up for another go, but instead of diving into the warm covers and heady company in Alex’s bed, she dragged her feet up the stairs to her own, shivering when she sat on the cold sheets. As she set her phone on the night table, the date on the display seemed to stare back at her.

It had been seven days since her appointment in Parma. The trees had dropped more leaves; there were no more olives ripening to purple, only tangy oil, and her brusque and distant housemate had finally allowed her to see him again in vivid focus.

But the time had also elapsed in a blink. Any day now, the postman could deliver her passports, that she’d hoped would open the door to the next stage of her life – leaving Italy behind. Suddenly, she wasn’t ready.

When she eventually drifted off to sleep, it was to the distant croon of an accordion – a little wonky and out of tune. He must have fixed the bellows on the tattered old instrument from the market. A hot tear dripped onto her pillow when she reflected on his late-night accordion surgery. He tinkered and tweaked and brought life back into instruments others had long given up on – perhaps because he thought he himself was beyond repair.

She wanted something more with him. It wouldn’t help to deny it. But only a fool would stay to have her heart broken twice.