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When they’d woken up that morning, he’d instructed her to pack a bathing suit and a towel. He was going to show her the markets, followed by his favorite beach at the top of the island. Beaches meant naked bodies…something that had unfortunately been on her mind night after night as her husband crawled into bed beside her. Even though he never reached for her in the dark, her imagination had been getting a workout.
First up was the Corfu morning market right near the New Fortress. Despite the early hour, the market was bustling. The sound of Greek was starting to become familiar to Marianna, and she found herself enjoying the soft “s” sounds scattered through the words. With her limited vocabulary, she was able to catch snatches of conversations, words here and there.
It was hard not to be excited by the prospect of a day of excellent food and swimming in a place that was more than fit to grace a postcard. All of Marianna’s life, she’d wanted to see the world; it’s what had drawn her to study languages in the first place. Her escape was through the words of other cultures, through the glossy pictures in her textbooks of far-flung places she never thought she’d get to see in person. But now she was here, although it wasn’t under the best of circumstances, at least she was getting to experience a beautiful part of the world.
“Lots of people come here to get their fish and fruit and vegetables,” Nico said as they wandered through the stalls.
He was dressed casually. A gray marled T-shirt that looked snuggly and soft, and a pair of tan pants that hugged his muscular thighs and trim hips. He managed to make even the most basic of outfits look mouth-wateringly good. The man could wear a burlap sack and still get her blood pumping.
The market was a riot of color, scent, and sound. Huge clusters of yellow zucchini flowers filled one market stall, while deep purple beets and glossy eggplants filled another. Bright orange prawns sat alongside shining silver fish and purple-tinged octopuses.
“Did you know the word ‘octopus’ has three plural forms and all of them are acceptable?” Marianna said. “Octopuses, octopi, and the lesser-used octopodes.”
“I did not know that.”
“Yep. Octopedes is my favourite.”
Music played over speakers dotted around the market, and people all around Marianna bustled and haggled for their produce. She could see herself spending hours here, just wandering around and observing.
“The driver can bring you here whenever you like,” Nico said. “Although, Lydia and Aggie come every couple of days to ensure the kitchen is stocked, so it’s not necessary.”
“I’ll still come. I like markets,” she said with a shrug. “I enjoy the sensory experience.”
“You mean the yelling and fish heads,” he scoffed.
“You might hear and smell those things, but I hear people’s businesses thriving and I smell the incredible things the ocean has to offer. Look”—She pointed to a stall where a small, older woman accepted a package from the fishmonger that was bigger than her head—“I saw her picking out her fish, carefully selecting each one, and making the fishmonger turn every fish over so she could see all the sides.”
“You mean she was being a pain in the ass.”
“She was being thoughtful because she cares about food and feeding her family. Or maybe it’s for a restaurant where she wants her customers to have the best quality.” Marianna looked up at Nico and shaded her eyes from the overhead sun.
She’d left her sunglasses back at the house, and when Nico caught her squinting, he tugged his aviators off and handed them to her. They were too big and slipped down the bridge of her nose, but she didn’t want to discourage the sweet gesture. It was like the moment at the beach when he’d folded her clothes and placed them on the towel so they didn’t get soiled.
He might act cynical. Hell, he might be cynical. But there was something soft beneath the surface, a tender little spot that she very much wanted to explore. But wasn’t that the very thing Dion was worried about? That she’d expose that part of Nico and use it to break him?
“Or maybe she’s a cranky old lady who wants to screw the fishmonger into giving her a discount.” Nico laughed when she rolled her eyes. “What? Do you expect me to buy into your rose-tinted-glasses view of the world? I hate to break it to you, but that’s not going to happen.”
“What’s wrong with seeing the good in the world?” She held up a hand when he went to respond. “If you’re going to tell me it’s naive, then you can save yourself the wasted air. It’s not naive. Trust me, I have so many reasons to hate the world, but I don’t.”
“Oh really, you think you’ve got more reasons than me?”
“Not that it’s a competition…but yeah, I do.”
They stopped at one of the coffee vendors and each grabbed a drink to go. Nico chatted with the man behind the counter in Greek. He handed their coffees over in blue-and-white patterned paper cups, and Marianna sucked the scent in. Greek coffee was stronger than she was used to at home, but she’d grown fond of it already.
