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See you in the morning,
Nonna and Nonno
Nothing could’ve prepared me for this act of lovingkindness.
I thoughtmygrandmother was the sweetest woman in the world before she passed.
It’s terrible to say, but Nonna gives her a run for her money.
I wonder what today has in store.
Sliding into the fur slippers that rest by my bed, I tiptoe across my room and throw open the window.
The most beautiful backyard offers itself up to my vision. Palm and olive trees mingle beside a trickling stream, one that reminds me of the landscapes in Roman poetry. Birds swoop and dive as they fill the air with their morning calls. Turtledoves pick at a bird feeder around which butterflies and hummingbirds fly, providing a touch of colorful movement to the scenery.
Wind zips through the olive trees and sends tiny leaves fluttering to the ground. A kitty prowls around the trunks, no doubt searching for olives. A TV documentary once informed me that Italy is notorious for its feral cat population. In Rome, there’s an entire block used as a resting place for these kitties.
"This iswild." Peering through the glass, I make out the shimmering sea in the distance.
O.M.G.
I try to calm down—to tell myself that this is nothing more than a nice home.
It doesn’t work. Something about the olive and palm trees, the kitty prowling around, butterflies, hummingbirds, and fruit trees which I didn’t even notice beside the garden’s walls, screams—magic.
A knock sounds on my door. "Wake up, sunshine."
I clear my throat. "Come in. I’m looking at your Nonna’s backyard."
Medici enters. Oh.Oh.
He wears a suit that hugs his muscles even tighter than the black tactical gear yesterday—if that’s possible. His clean-shaven jaw is chiseled as hell, and his thick hair hangs by his temples like he’s a goddamn model.
The smell of rich cologne enters my nose. I sniff to try to distinguish the notes—then give up. It must beEau de Ocean.It smells so water-like and dewy that I want to drink him through a biodegradable straw.
Medici’s lips crook into a smirk. "You’ll have to check out the swimming hole this afternoon.It’s to-die-for."
I put my hands on my hips. "I’m not a big swimmer."
"That’s no problem. You can wade."
The truth hovers on the tip of my tongue—I haven't swum in years.Growing up in Manhattan with abusive parents who didn’t know how to swim, I had to teach myself. My school's pool wasn't open to non-swim team members, so I relied on free YMCA lessons. It's been a while.
I nod. "Wading sounds good."As long as I can strip down.
Medici walks to the window beside me. "I’ve spentmanyhappy hours here."
"In this room?"
He rolls his eyes. "No. The backyard. Running through the olive trees. Picking figs and suntanning."
I force back a snort. "I see."
"You’ll relax here." Medici issues me a stern look. "I know you will."
A frisson of heat tears through me. Glancing into his eyes, I force myself not to say anything crazy or make any sudden movements—like biting off his suit.
My rescuer is hot as fuck. My dick burns—andunlike yesterday, he hasn’t even put his hands on me.
