Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
When our bellies are full, we sit back and look out over the water. The sun is lower in the sky, and the balmy weather’s grown only a little colder. Still, I shiver when a wind kicks up over the water.
The waves crash on the shore in front of us, then drag right back out to sea again. The salt air tingles my nose.
“Tavi.”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Why don’t we move to Tuscany?” I ask, imagining my favorite place on the other side of that water. “Have you ever thought of that?”
Tavi looks out over the water. Thoughtful. Meditative. “Not sure that would work. I’m needed here. Doesn’t mean it can’t hurt to ask, though. See what Romeo thinks. You know I love Tuscany, too.”
I’m not so sure I want to be apart from Angelina, either. And I have to reluctantly admit, I like his family, too. “I know what you mean. But maybe for part of the year? Like snowbirds going to Florida, you and I could spread our wings and fly to Tuscany.” I close my eyes and imagine the warm kiss of wind on my cheeks, and the vibrant green of the Tuscan landscape around us. Though Tavi’s well-loved in his family, he came alive in Tuscany.
“And you’ve got the business here, too,” he reminds me with a serious nod.
“Eh.” I shrug. “I could make inventory purchases remotely.”
He nods. “You could.”
We sit silently for long minutes, and the tide begins to go out to sea.
“Elise, I’ve made a decision.”
“Yeah? You’ll let me name our children Gwendolyn or Lancelot after all?”
“Uh, no.”
“Dammit. Then what?”
“It’s time to take out that tracker.”
“Oh. Oh.”
The decision feels monumental. I tell myself that it was insane of him to even put this in, but Ottavio Rossi doesn’t play by the nice guy rules. “Uh. So. How does that get done?”
“I brought what we need.”
I blink in surprise. I want this out, but the prospect of having it removed scares me.
Still, I don’t want to go to the altar tomorrow with this in me. It feels like a chain.
“I can take it out, baby,” he says softly. “I can take it out right now.”
My heart beats a little faster. “Will it hurt?”
He shrugs. “Little bit. Could use a little something to numb the area…”
Then I remember, this pretty little dress is functional. It has pockets, and I just happen to have contraband tucked into one of them.
I take out the joint Marialena gave me and show it to him.
“Would this help?”
“Where’d you get that?”
“Do I have to tell you?” I wince. I don’t wanna rat his sister out.
He growls, but doesn’t make me tell him. He knows Santo and Rosa smoke, and probably figures Marialena does, too.
“I don’t like messing with my head,” he protests.
“I know,” I respond, twirling it in my fingers. “It’s the control thing, isn’t it?”
“Mmm.”
“Maybe sometimes it’s good to let go of a little control. Gets tiring, doesn’t it, Tavi?”
It’s exactly what he’ll be doing when he takes this out of my arm.
He doesn’t respond for a minute. The waves crashing below us have an almost lulling effect. I sigh.
“Give it to me, Elise.”
I half expect him to toss it out to the waves below, but he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lighter. The flame flares in the darkness and soon, the sweet, acrid smell fills the air around us.
“Just a little,” he says, handing it to me. “When I tell you to stop, stop.”
He holds the end of the lit joint out to me but keeps it still between his fingers. I take a slow drag, the smoke filling my lungs, then release it, letting it dissipate around me. I nestle back against him and he takes it back. Behind me, a little flare of light tells me he took a drag of his own.
We go on like that for silent minutes.
“Letting go?” I ask. The lines of the world around me fade a little, as if painted by watercolor, and the tension I felt in my chest begins to soften. I’m feeling oddly sentimental. I smile to myself.
“Yeah, baby,” he says. His voice sounds softer than it was before. “Sometimes maybe it is good to let go of a little control. A little, anyway.” I look over at him, surprised to find the joint to his lips is hot as fuck. “So to take that tracker out, I have to cut you. But it’s a tiny incision. And where it is, no one will even see the mark when you wear the wedding dress.”
I sit up straighter and hold my arm out to him. “Do it. Please?”
Frowning, he holds my gaze, then puts the lit end of the joint out on the ground. “I trust you, baby. I’ll keep you safe without that damn thing in you. You get me?”