“She did heat up one of the sauces for one of the pasta dishes, but I tasted it before she served it, and it was fine.”
Angelo laughed, then she heard him curse under his breath.
“Are you okay?”
“Sorry, laughing still hurts,” he said, his voice still a little gruff. “I keep forgetting that.” He paused and spoke to her again.Kara couldn’t refuse him so she told him everything she could remember. Then she had to apologize, and explain that she wasn’t the biggest seafood fan.
“But to be fair, you made it the most edible seafood I’ve ever had,” Kara admitted.
“You’re not allergic, are you?”
“No, it’s just not my favorite. But what can I say? Maybe you can change my mind.”
That earned her another rusty chuckle. “Perhaps I’ll figure out how to cook fishjustthe right way for you to love it.” He seemed amused by the challenge.
“You never know.”
“Not everyone likes fish, which I understand. Millie and Nicholas only like fish sticks, though that’s mostly a kid thing. I knew they were coming this year so I made a turkey too.”
“That turkey was amazing. What’s the secret to the flavor?” She settled deeper into the pillows, simply enjoying the sound of his voice. It was so soothing, yet it strangely excited her in a way she couldn’t explain.
“I soaked the turkey overnight in a mix of spices, especially rosemary, and lemon juice. That way, it goes deeper than the skin. Most people baste the skin, but when you eat it, the skin is often removed and the rest of the bird has meat that has no juice on it.”
She put the phone on speaker and set it beside her on the pillow. She nuzzled against his pillow, and something like warm amber and sandalwood teased her nose. She let the scent fill her senses as the last bit of tense nerves inside of her began to unknot, and her body began to truly relax. How could anything hurt in a place like this?”
“I suppose… as your fake fiancée I should know more about your cooking. I’m sure we talked about it during one of our manydates right? How did you learn so much about cooking?” she asked. “Did you go to a culinary school?”
He chuckled at her teasing but answered her question seriously. “Eventually, but that’s not where I started. When I was young, I visited my grandmother in Italy. My mother’s mother, my Nonna. She saw I had an interest in cooking and taught me everything she knew.”
“How old were you?” She stifled a yawn with a balled fist. She was very tired, but she liked listening to him talk and needed to learn everything she could about him.
“I was about ten. I went to Ortigia every summer for the next seven years to spend time with her. I haven’t been back there since she died.”
“I’m so sorry,” Kara murmured.
“Don’t be. She had a full and wonderful life. She wouldn’t want anyone to feel sad for her.”
“I’ve never heard of Ortigia. Where is that?”
“It’s an island in the southern part of Italy in Sicily on the Ionian coast.”
“What’s it like?” Kara tried to imagine a small dark-haired boy with warm brown eyes running around a sunny Mediterranean village.
Angelo’s voice softened, deepened. “Everythingglows.” Now she pictured him lying in bed beside her, telling her about his home.
A sudden longing struck her heart. The desire to be held, to be touched, to be loved by someone…by someone like Angelo, who seemed to love everything and everyone so easily. Could someone like him ever…?
She shook her head, pushing away her foolish dreams.
“What do you meanglows?” she asked.
“It’s like the sun never fully sets. When the sun dips below the horizon, the stones of the city still keeps a golden huethat shimmers beneath the lamplight on the streets and shops. Nonna once said the city was made of honey stones because everything is such a soft gold. You can wander the streets for hours, discovering crumbling Palazzos and quiet incense-filled chapels. Nightingales wake you up in the morning, and there are cats that move out of the shadows to bathe in patches of sunlight. And the sky… it’s the most brilliant blue you’ve ever seen. Everything is built in a Baroque style, and yet the remains of a Greek temple can be seen in the ancient columns of our cathedral.”
He painted the most beautiful picture of a place she wished she could see in person, but never could because she couldn’t get a passport like she could get a fake ID.
“When the sun sets, it looks as though the sky’s on fire. The sea breeze carries sounds across the city, everything from laughter on the beaches to the clinking of glasses in the restaurants. Everything smells like the ocean, and honeysuckle with lavender.” Angelo paused. “I haven’t been back in three years. I’ve been so busy with my restaurant, I lost track of time. Have you ever been to Italy?”
“No… I’ve only ever traveled around the U.S.,” Kara admitted. That was the truth. She may have been conceived in Ireland, but she was born in the States, and it was the only country she’d ever been in.
