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„Did I promise too much?“
Amber shook her head. The cold of the ice-cream felt soothing on her tongue and tasted heavenly. It tasted like the sunset in front of them - sweet and soft and pastel coloured, like the beginning of summer and euphoria.
“Is it how you remember it?”
“Even better,” Joey answered. He hadn’t tried it yet. It could only be better with her by his side, he knew that. So far everything had been. The ocean had been softer, the sun warmer and all the colours brighter.
“Not much has changed, actually. The boy selling it is much younger now. Don’t love the way he kept trying to make you laugh, his grandfather wasn’t much better, other than that, it’s pretty much all the same.”
The little corner shop looked just like it had when he had last been here: the chequered white and red tablecloths, the pale yellow of the walls, the abandoned playground with rusty swings and blue slide on the side of the building and, most importantly, the view to the cliffs and the sea. It wasn’t a big city, a village rather, far away enough from the bigger places and all the touristy noises and voices. The loudest sounds were the waves crashing against the cliffs joined by some faint music playing from someone’s radio.
“It’s melting!” Amber laughed as she turned to Joey, who had been watching her eat rather than preventing the pink drops falling on his cream coloured linen pants. Thankfully, he could still fit in those. They hadn’t been worn in a bit, but had seemed the right (and only) choice for this third date.
The spot he had picked had turned out to be the perfect one for peacefully watching the sunset. It was right next to a lemon tree, the scent of it mixing with the salt of the ocean underneath them, the sweet dessert in their hands and their own scents, which were slowly becoming one after having spent hours and hours together, skin on skin. Amber didn’t remember a more beautiful sunset than the one she was experiencing right now. In fact, it had turned out that Joey seemed to be outstandingly good at picking spots; where to stay, where to swim, where to get the most delicious focaccia, where to touch her, kiss her.
“Don’t care. I would even go shopping with you. Probably will have to do that soon. I keep finding out that my stuff simply looks better on you.”
Amber felt the blush spread on her face and bit into the waffle cone. “You know, you said to pack lightly. I still can’t believe that you brought the chef's coat,” she mumbled.
“You seemed to enjoy it a lot when you found out last night.” He placed a kiss on her naked shoulder and heard her giggle when he added: “Chef, will this become a new tradition now? You stealing and wearing my clothes?”
She shrugged. “I don’t mind sharing, as long as I don’t have to share you with anyone.”
“Don’t worry, baby.” Her lips tasted like the sweetest strawberries. He had been right, definitely better than ever before. He had finished his ice-cream fast, also because he wanted to have his hands free to wander along her skin and his lips following them. It had only been one full day, but to him she looked like she simply belonged here, to this place on earth. The sun kissed face, the short white dress, the soft blonde waves moving with the light breeze, he wanted to freeze this moment in time.
“I never want to leave this place,” she whispered as his fingertips moved dangerously high up her upper thigh.
“We don’t have to,” he matched her tone, deep and silky. “I’ll text the car rental service, call the hotel.”
She smiled. Only thinking about it made her sigh. Watching him drive in that little red cabriolet with the sunglasses on the handsome face had been a joy, feeling the wind in her hair, that was only held by a colourful satin scarf, incredibly freeing, but when the road rage kicked in and he started yelling and throwing in Italian words, that she assumed where insults, while also squeezing her leg simultaneously, that had been pure ecstasy.
The small and cosy hotel room had not been a place for much sleeping, even after the long flight, or maybe especially after the long flight, all those longing looks and touches, but she wouldn’t mind spending all her nights in there, covered by nothing but the stiff white sheets and right next to him. Even though she had wanted to see and explore everything, it had taken them three attempts to finally leave the room, fully clothed, after all.
“Terry will fire us if he hasn’t already.” She hadn’t turned her phone back on since texting Terry that she had caught a cold and would be back in three days, hopefully. That had been before their plane had taken off.
“He will get over it. Plus, it's not like he doesn't owe me a favour or two.”
“We can get him a souvenir.” He probably had already made the connection with his executive chef and hostess both missing at the same time. Everyone probably had. “How about one of those magnets for the fridge? Or a bottle of limoncello? The one we tried at the restaurant last night tasted divine.” The memory made her smile again. How could she just go back to work after all of this?
Joey took her hand in hers. “We could promise him that he could be the groomsman,” the innocence in his voice made her heart skip a beat. “Or godfather.” Another one. Her heart wouldn’t be able to go back to its normal rhythm if he continued like this.
“You think he would like that?” she somehow could get out, butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
“It’s Terry. If he likes one thing, it’s giving speeches.” He tenderly placed a kiss on her hand, that he was still holding, the other one continuing its journey up her dress.
A quiet, suppressed whimper escaped her full, rosy lips. “I…”
“Hm? What is it, baby?” He grinned at her, more than aware of what he was doing.
“Is it bad that I want to get back to the hotel room already?”
“Is it worse that I don’t think I can wait that long?”
“How strict are Italians with rules again?”
His hearty laugh made her reach for his face and press her lips on his once more. The food and drinks were wonderful, but nothing tasted this sweet to her.
How bad could getting arrested in Italy be? Maybe they could escape to France next.
“Do you like croissants?” she asked between kisses and made him laugh again.
“Sure.”
“I’m just planning our getaway,” she explained, pretending to be serious.
“Spain is also supposed to be very nice and I always wanted to learn more about their cuisine,” he said, playing along. “Or Greece. Also heard some wonderful things about Croatian beaches.” The whole world with you. “I can always text Terry that we ran away and are opening our own restaurant now.”
This time it was Amber’s turn to laugh along to his fantasies.
A house somewhere here, close to the cliffs, and a tiny, charming restaurant next to it. She’d learn the language fast, he had seen her listen carefully the whole time they had been here.
With the sun nearly completely gone and the sky slowly presenting the first few stars, Amber felt a heavy feeling develop in her chest. They had to go back. There were bills to pay, questions to answer, messages to read and probably also excuses to be made.
There were so many more things he wanted to show her. There were dishes that they hadn’t tried yet, wine that they hadn’t tasted, views that they hadn’t admired, but they had one more night, which he planned on making the best out of, before their plane took off again in the early morning.
“You were also right about this being a great honeymoon destination, by the way.” Maybe somewhen.
The smile, the one only reserved for her and no one else, on his pretty face made her heart feel a bit lighter again.
“I promise this isn’t our last time here, baby.”
This was more than enough for now. Whatever tomorrow brought, they would get through it together, no matter where.