“No.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I’ll let you be in my dreams if I can be in yours. Bob Dylan
Jake and I both order espresso and a warm roll and we sit at a little table by the window. “I had a good time, Jake, thanks.”
“Me too. I’m really glad I ran into or almost ran into you,” he says with a wink and takes another sip of his espresso.
“Yeah, I mean what are the odds?” I eat my roll as Jake quietly eats his. We both watch the people outside, opening up their businesses, getting ready for the day. When we’re finished, Jake and I walk back to the pensione in relative silence.
This is it.
The goodbye.
I walk as slowly as possible to prolong his company.
As we approach the front stairs, Gino walks out with a box of something in his hands. He sets it on the ground and addresses me. “Signorina Jen, buon giorno! Come stai?”
“Va bene, Gino, grazie.”
“Signorina, my daughter gets married today!” Gino announces with a proud smile on his face.
“Congratulations, Gino. That’s wonderful,” I say with a pat on his arm.
“You must come to celebrate with us tonight. You and your friend. Six tonight we start the celebration in the courtyard, yes?”
“I would love to. Grazie.”
“Bravo, I busy now, but I see you later. Ciao.” Gino picks his box back up and hurries past us.
Looking back at Jake, I begin the unavoidable goodbye. “Well…”
“It was great seeing you, Jen.”
“You too, Jake.”
“I don’t want to let so much time pass before the next time we talk, all right?” Jake leans in and gives me a hug. I squeeze him back, trying not to let any tears slip out of my eyes. I feel his head turn as he kisses my cheek briefly. “See ya around?”
I smile at him. “See ya around.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
If music be the food of love, play on. William Shakespeare
At five that evening I start to get ready. Turning on my iPod, I hit shuffle and sing along to the songs as they play. All day they’ve been setting up the courtyard for the reception. People shouting in Italian and running here and there. It’s been fun to watch. Slipping into one of the sundresses I brought with me, I pull my hair up off my face in a high ponytail. Applying a little mascara and some lip gloss, I finish getting ready and sit down on my bed to wait. I don’t want to be the first one down there.
As I sit there listening to “Do I Wanna Know” by Arctic Monkeys, of course Jake comes to my mind.
Jake in the pool yesterday.
Jake in the elevator the first day we met.
Jake coming in to Sweet Dreams every day for coffee.
Jake lying on my sofa with his head in my lap.
Jake just out of the shower, wrapped in a towel.
Jake trying to catch me when I fell at the café stringing the lights.
Jake on his bike.
Jake fixing his bike.
Jake, Jake, Jake!
Every time he was around me I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
I’m so strung out.
The tension in my neck and shoulders is killing me.
I have to stop this.
Maybe I need to have sex.
A lot of sex.
Jake, sex. Ugh I have to stop thinking about him.
I’m in Italy. I could have an affair with some hot Italian guy. Yes, that’s it. That is what I need. Some earth shattering hot Italian sex. Maybe I’ll meet someone tonight to help get him out of my system. I should pick up some condoms at the drug store next time I go out.
Standing up, I add a little more mascara and some eyeliner to my eyes to emphasize them. I also put on a necklace that is the right length to accentuate my cleavage.
There, that’s better.
Voices and soft music filter up to my room from downstairs, indicating the party has started and makes me realize I must have been daydreaming longer than I thought. Checking myself in the mirror one last time, I grab the gift I picked up this afternoon off the bed. Opening my door, I hear laughter and lively music which puts a smile on my face.
Yes, I will have a good time tonight. I’ll meet some new people and flirt.
Making my way down the stairs, I notice the twinkle lights strung every which way over the courtyard and know, once it gets a little darker, it’s going to look magical.
Yep, this is what it’s supposed to look like on the patio at Sweet Dreams.
There are people milling around everywhere, snacking on appetizers with drinks in hand. Gino is standing by the musicians and make my way over to him.
“Gino, grazie mille. Ecco un regalo per su figlia.” I offer him the gift with a smile.
“Grazie, grazie.” Gino gives me a fatherly kiss on the cheek.
“Can I help you with anything?”
“No bella, grazie. Everything good. Come, I will introduce you to my daughter Francesca and her new husband Carlo.”
I follow Gino over to where the bride and groom are taking pictures by the fountain. As the crowd clears, I take in the beaming couple standing with…
Is that…is that Jake?
My heart immediately starts to pound. Jake notices me and smiles as the photographer takes a few more photos.
This is unbelievable.
Is there nowhere I’m safe?
Does he know the bride and groom?
Stupefied, I watch as Jake turns and kisses the bride on the cheek and shakes the groom’s hand. He motions over to me and they nod and let him go. He shakes Gino’s hand as he passes, whispering something in his ear.
I take him in as he walks toward me. He has on a black blazer with a black V-neck T-shirt underneath, dark wash jeans and what look like boots peeking out from under the legs of his jeans. His hair is perfect and his eyes sparkle as he walks toward me with the sexiest look on his face.
Perfection.
I smile to myself realizing this is how he always looks.
Pure perfection.
“Buona sera, carina,” Jake says as he stops in front of me.
“Buona sera. What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean? I was invited.”
He was?
“Do you know Gino or his daughter Francesca? Carlo?”
“Yes. I met Gino earlier today with you and I just met the bride and groom,” he says matter-of-factly.
I’m confused.
“Come on, let’s get a drink.” Jake takes my hand, laces his fingers through mine, and pulls me along with him over to the bar area. “What would you like? Some wine, a cocktail, Prosecco?”
“Pellegrino.”
“Okay, due Pellegrino, per favore?” Jake takes the glasses from the bartender and hands me one. I take a sip, watching him over the rim of my glass, trying to figure him out.
“So, how come you never drink?”
“What?” I’m confused by his question and still a little in shock that he’s here.
“Well, I’ve never seen you drink.”
“Umm, I’ll have a glass of wine or cocktail once in a while or a beer on a really hot day, but I rarely drink when I go out.”
“Why?” Jake asks me with this inquisitive look on his face.
“I don’t know. I guess I like to keep a clear head. You know, so I don’t do anything I’ll regret the next day. I learned that lesson when I was younger.”
Jake lifts his glass and clinks it with mine. “Good reason.”
I’m still getting over the fact that Jake is here with me at this wedding when Gino taps his spoon against his glass to get everyone’s attention and asks everyone to take a seat. Jake takes my free hand and moves toward two chairs at one of the far tables. He pulls out my chair and sits next to me on my right. We greet the other people at our table, Jake shaking hands with a couple of guys sitting across from us. We all quiet and face Gino as he starts to speak.
I
understand when he congratulates the couple and pay close attention to see what else I can understand. He must tell some funny anecdote, as the majority of the guests laugh at certain points. I see Jake in my periphery smile at the appropriate times, seeming to understand. His left arm is draped across the back of my chair and his right hand holds the glass of sparkling water from earlier.
His hands are so pretty.
Anyway, back to Gino. He finishes his speech and most of the women in the room are drying their eyes with tissue. He raises his glass and says, “Amore.” This, I understand; to love. I raise my glass with everyone else as we chant back “Amore” and the newlyweds kiss and sit down at their table.
Food starts to arrive, family style platters of everything you could think of. The table and whole party is loud and boisterous and I love it. People taste and try all the dishes, passing them down. There’s red wine on the table and everyone helps themselves, but I notice Jake doesn’t pour himself a glass and I’m relieved I’m not the only one not drinking tonight. There must be at least ten different pasta dishes with fresh basil, tomatoes, shrimp, mussels, all really tempting. Platters of salads, olives, and cold meats sit on the table along with bottles of olive oil and wonderfully warm bread. I stay away from the pasta knowing it will fill me up way too fast, wanting to try as much of this delicious looking food as possible. There’s a beautiful looking eggplant dish coming my way and some stuffed mushrooms that smell divine. Roasted artichokes are next along with what look like broiled sardines that are heavily salted. Jake spoons different items on to my plate at my request and then helps himself. I’m mostly having vegetables and he’s sticking mostly with pasta.
“Jake, you have to try this salad. These heirloom tomatoes explode in your mouth.”
“Actually, I’m not really a fan of tomatoes.”
“What? What do you mean, you don’t like tomatoes? How can you not like tomatoes?”
“I just don’t. I think it’s the texture, they’re squishy.” Jake shivers when he says this, like a little kid.
“I knew you were a weirdo. Come on you have to try this.” I stab my fork into a yellow heirloom tomato and a piece of fresh basil and swirl it around in the olive oil on my plate. I hold it up for him to try and he shakes his head.
Oh my gosh, he’s being such a baby right now.
My fork is suspended in the air in front of him as I wait. “Please, for me?” I give him my best pout and he caves. I smile triumphantly as he opens his mouth and I slip my fork in with the tomato, watching to see if he likes it.
He shrugs his shoulders and says, “Still not my favorite,” then proceeds to dig into his pasta.
“You are so weird.” I spear another tomato and pop it in my mouth, enjoying the burst of flavor.
He’s all ease and friendly conversation with the people at our table. He looks so relaxed and normal; not at all self-conscious or guarded. I pay close attention to Jake as he speaks Italian. His voice is like music and based on my limited knowledge, he sounds like he’s almost fluent. I laugh when Jake laughs, because he charms everyone around him including me. His laugh is infectious, I can’t help it.
It’s so good to see him so carefree and open like this.
I’m really happy right now. I dig into my eggplant dish and moan as the flavors explode in my mouth. Jake translates when I don’t understand, to keep me involved with the conversation, and I chime in here and there in a little Italian or English, Jake relaying what I’ve said back to the others.
Three hours later, dinner finally winds down. Jake and I have been quietly discussing the food and general ambiance of the evening for the last few minutes as the bride and groom cut the cake and the band takes over. We all watch as the newlyweds dance their first dance. They look so sweet and in love with each other, I tear up a bit watching them. Slowly the older couples join in and then everyone starts to get up. The space in the center of the courtyard has become the dance floor and the couples dancing are admired by the rest of us. One of the guys across the table from us says something to Jake and Jake nods.
The man sitting across from me holds out a hand and asks, “Dance?”
I don’t hesitate, I want to be out there too. “Sure.” I stand up and walk around Jake to join him. He’s been looking at me all evening and I must say he’s a very handsome guy.
He holds his hand to his chest like Tarzan and says, “Giovani.”
Smiling, I do the same telling him my name is Jenna. We reach the center of the crowd and I glance back at Jake to see if he’s okay with this. He raises his glass and smiles at me, so I figure there’s nothing left to do but dance. The band plays what I assume are the classics. They’re upbeat songs that have a familiar sound and even the older generation sings along. I dance two songs with Giovani, thank him and start back to the table to rejoin Jake. Another man, who I haven’t met yet tonight, taps my shoulder and I turn around and find a twenty-something Italian hottie with blue eyes towering over me holding his hand out. Blushing, I turn back toward the dance floor with him. This one speaks a little English and tells me his name is Freddy. We dance another two songs together and I’m really having fun. I steal glances at Jake, see he’s still at the table, and decide not to worry about it. I laugh with Freddy as he flirts with me big time. Eventually I tell him I need some water and make my way back to the table where Jake is waiting.
“Having fun out there?”
I sit down and take a gulp of my water. “Oh yeah. I love dancing, but I don’t get to go that often.”
“Well, you’re a good dancer.”
“Thanks. Wow, I’m so thirsty. Is there any still water? Maybe with some ice?”
Jake stands up and says, “I’ll go get you a glass, be right back.”
“Thanks, Jake.”
I start to fan myself with a napkin to cool off a bit. The evening is warm and perfect for an outdoor event like this, but after dancing for thirty minutes, I’m hot. Dabbing my neck and forehead with my napkin, I watch as two women approach Jake at the bar. They’re fiercely flirting with him, I can tell that from all the way over here. It’s way over the top and I start to wonder if I should go over there when he says something to them and turns with a smile. They both have pouty looks on their faces so I assume he politely turned them down. I smile as he walks back toward our table with two glasses of still water in his hands and a smile on his face, but all of a sudden the smile disappears and instead he scowls in my direction.
What’s wrong?
Shoot do I have something on my face?
Why is he looking at me like that?
I look down to check that I don’t have a boob falling out of my dress or something.
Nope, boobs still securely in place.
Everything looks fine.
Then I feel a tap on my shoulder. Looking behind me, I see Freddy has come over to ask me to dance again. Jake arrives at the same time with a glass of water for me and I turn back toward him and take the glass. “Thanks.”
I gulp down the water as Jake takes the opportunity to lean over me and say to Freddy, who still stands behind me waiting, “Stia via, lei e la mia.”
I blush, smile to myself and take another sip.
Did Jake say I was his?
I turn to see Freddy bow politely and respond, “Scusi,” and then walk back over to the other side of the room.
Jake sits down next to me and scoots his chair a little closer to mine so our legs almost touch. He drapes his arm over the back of my chair and sips his water as he looks out over the crowd.
I feel giddy.
Did Jake totally just mark his territory?
I stare at his profile, trying to keep a giggle at bay, willing him to say something.
He peeks at me out of the corner of his eye and says, “Sorry, that guy was a slime,” then takes another sip of water.
I smile and tease, “Oh, I don’t know. I thought he was hot.”
Jake’s head spins so he faces me. “He was staring straight
down your dress!”
Ooh, he sounds pissed.
I look him dead in the eye tauntingly and wiggle my eyebrows. “Who cares? Aren’t all Italian men sex-crazed?”
Jake’s eyebrows go up a little at my statement. He gets a determined look on his face and motions to the entire room. “Yes, especially around you! Half the room is drooling all over themselves.”
“And the other half?” I tease.
“The other half are women.”
Aw, that was sweet.
“Thanks for the complement, but I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s not like every woman here doesn’t want to get in your pants. I see the way they ogle you.”
Jake smiles and tilts his head at me. “Jealous?”
Of course, but I don’t say that. Instead, I roll my eyes, feigning nonchalance, and take another sip of water. Putting down my glass, I think about it for a moment seriously and say, “I think it would be hard not to be jealous. Women must throw themselves at you all over the world.”
Jake looks at me after taking in what I say and responds, “You know, that is the main reason why I think Hollywood couples don’t last. Jealousy. One is always jealous of the other and then that person is too busy or schedules don’t seem to work or whatever. I think if you really want to be with someone, you find a way to make it work. You make time for the other person. The most important thing is trust. Then there’s no room for jealousy.”
I look at the water swirling in my glass and say, “Trust is the most important thing I think.” He’s about to say something else, but looks up over my head and scowls instead. Turning, I see Giovani coming toward us, blush, and cough to hide my laugh.
“Oh, this is ridiculous. Come on, you are going to dance with me.” Jake stands up and holds out his hand for me. Smiling, I take his hand as we walk out onto to the dance floor.
I thought he would never ask.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent. Victor Hugo
Facing me, Jake takes my right hand in his and his left hand holds me around my waist.
I hope this isn’t going to be awkward.
Sweet Dreams (Sunset Dreams Series Book 1) Page 12