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She rolls her eyes again. I don’t blame her. I know my lines are terrible. “You don’t have a guide?” she asks.
Not since Nick’s cousin and my unofficial tour guide decided she was more interested in showing me her boob job than in showing me the city.
“I had one, but…” I pause. “She had interests that had nothing to do with touring the city.”
Cora gives me a teasing look from under her lashes, a naughty smile playing on her lips. “Really?” She draws out the word.
I sip my coffee. “Yes, really.”
“Interests like…?”
I shrug and her smile widens.
“You can tell me.”
I make a gesture of zipping my lips and Cora grins, then sips the last of her drink, leaving a cluster of ice at the bottom of the frosted glass. “I should get going,” she says. “As much as I’d like to, I can’t spend my entire day talking with a cute stranger who doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“As much as you’d like to?” I can’t help the grin that takes over my entire face.
Her mouth opens slightly. “Well…you’re…”
“Cute?”
She rolls her eyes and at the same time shrugs with exasperation. It’s cute. “I was going to say easy to talk to. A little funny…”
I’ll take that. “Maybe I didn’t kiss at all and there’s nothing to tell.”
She replies with another eye roll. “I still have to go though.”
“Don’t,” I beg, making a pleading face.
“I have some exploring-stroke-research to do,” she tells me, laughing.
I lean back in my chair. “Why don’t we explore-stroke-research together? I can be useful if you need to discourage another eager Romeo.”
“Ha ha.” This time she doesn’t roll her eyes. “I can take care of myself.”
“Okay. What if I tag along and buy you lunch? To apologize.”
“For what?”
“For trying to defend you from an eager Romeo when it’s obvious you can take care of yourself.”
She shakes her head. “How’s it even an apology when you’re the one getting what you want?”
“You got me.” I think for a moment. “How about…I’m a solitary tourist in dire need of a guide. You are an art student who’s been here all summer. Sounds like a match made in Hollywood.”
She gets to her feet and grabs a brown leather satchel hanging from the back of her chair. “Okay, but only because you didn’t say heaven.”
I can’t help the slow grin that spreads across my face. “I’m saving heaven for later.”
Another eye roll. “Come on,” she tells me with a smile, making my day. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER8
CORA
Tristan pays for our breakfast at the cash register, chatting with the cashier in rapid Italian. He insisted on paying, brushing off my protests with good-natured firmness.
