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I nod, and Jude's arm slides around my middle. His hand settles against my hip as he gently pulls me into his side.

Oh.

Then he looks at the men.

That's it. He doesn't say a fucking word. He just looks at them with a not-so-gentle expression that translates perfectly into every language on earth.

Back off.

Both men seem to understand. One gives me a final smile, the other lifts his hands, and then they're gone.

“Oh,” I exhale.

Jude doesn't move, and neither do I. His hand is still resting on my hip, warm against me, and standing this close I can smell whatever soap he used after the beach mixed with something that's just... him. I can feel the heat of his body along my side and the brush of his shirt against my bare shoulder.

My stomach starts doing that strange fucking thing again, and I frown.

What the hell?

I've had one limoncello shot at home before we came here.

One.

I can't possibly be tipsy.

Then the music changes, and the first few notes drift across the beach.

Every thought disappears from my head.

My eyes widen.

Oh my God.

I turn toward Jude so quickly his hand slips slightly around my waist.

“I love this song!” I exclaim as I recognize Favola by Eros Ramazzotti. “I used to listen to it when I was a little girl. I loved it because it's a fairytale.”

Jude

I smile at her enthusiasm.

“What’s the fairytale about?”

I ask because I don’t want her to stop smiling like that.

“It’s about this man. He becomes a tree and stays so still he grows roots. He learns to be happy with nature, wild honey and the animals around him while he watches the flowers grow. He says he’s content like that…” Her smile softens. “But then one day, he sees the eyes of a woman, and those eyes make his roots tremble and move.”

She shakes her head, looking down.

“Then what happens?” I ask.

“He understands that true happiness was never being alone. That until that day, he had only ever been half.” She looks up at me again. “So he reaches out a branch and touches her, and realizes that she is what real happiness feels like.”

Well... fuck.

The song is still playing, and before I can think better of it, I hold out my hand.

“Dance to it with me?”