Wounded Hearts

by Julia Sykes

  When we were seated on the plastic bench on the rickety train that would carry us down the coast, I finally gathered my wits.

  “How did you know I’d be here?” I asked.

  He rested his hand on my upper thigh, oh-so-close to my sex. Heat suffused my system, and I suppressed the urge to squirm in my seat. It was going to be a long ride to Sorrento.

  “You told me you were coming here, remember? I took the first flight into Naples today, so I’d be here whenever your plane arrived. I’ve arranged a week’s leave. I wanted to be with you for longer than a few hours.”

  I rested my head on his shoulder. “I want that, too. I’m glad you’re here. Sorry I was kind of a bitch at the airport.”

  He pulled back so he could meet my eyes. The authoritative slant of his firm jaw made desire bloom in my belly.

  “I don’t want to hear you talk about yourself like that. You’re not a bitch. You couldn’t be a bitch if you tried. I understand why you were upset with me. You had every right to be angry. I didn’t leave you on the best terms.” His lips thinned. “Are you still angry with me?”

  “No,” I admitted on a contented sigh. “Not at all. I’m happy.”

  The declaration came as a surprise. I hadn’t been truly happy in…longer than I’d like to contemplate. Probably years.

  His kiss whispered across my cheek. “I’m glad,” he murmured. “I’m happy, too.”

  The heavy way he said it made me suspect that I wasn’t the only one surprised by this particular emotion. Even though he’d shared pieces of his soul with me, I craved to understand him better. We had a whole week together. Surely, he’d open up at least a little in that span of time.

  And hopefully, he was ready to open up to his kinky side more. My body burned to join with his, and I couldn’t wait to have him inside me again, binding us together in the most intimate way possible.

  As soon as we checked into my Airbnb apartment, he fulfilled my desire. We lay together on the bed, sweaty and gasping for breath.

  “That was amazing,” I panted.

  He grinned at me. “You’re amazing. I love watching you come. How many orgasms was that?”

  I struggled to sort through the pleasurable haze in my mind. “Um, like five? I think?”

  He chuckled. “And I barely even spanked you.”

  “Hey, don’t think you’re going to convert me to a vanilla,” I warned.

  “You’re converting me to a chocolate,” he jibed. “Maybe we can swirl.”

  “Oh, my god,” I groaned, slapping his chest. “That was terrible.”

  “The joke or the sex?”

  “Definitely the joke.” I snuggled back into him. “The sex was incredible.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I pursed my lips at him in mock-annoyance. “You’re getting very cocky.”

  “And you love it.” He wrapped his hand around my nape and pulled me in for a slow, sweet kiss.

  We stayed like that for a long time, unable to resist touching each other, re-learning the contours of each other’s bodies. After a while, I stirred.

  “We really should get out of bed. We only have so many days to explore Sorrento.”

  He tugged me back into him with a sexy growl. “I only have so many days to explore you.”

  The comment elicited a fresh surge of lust, but it was layered with regret. “Only a few days?” I asked quietly.

  His expression fell, his levity melting away. “I can’t stay longer than a week. You know I can’t.”

  Indecision tormented me. I could throw myself into his arms for the next seven days, or I could put up protective walls and send him away.

  I chose the former.

  It wasn’t a choice, really. I didn’t have a choice when it came to Scott.

  “Let’s go exploring,” I urged, putting on my best smile.

  He allowed my deceptively cheery mood, not pressing me to confess my deeper emotions.

  We got dressed—after fucking one more time in the shower—and headed out into the city.

  Well, Sorrento was more of a town, really. It was even smaller than York. And just as charming.

  We walked past the basilica, which was painted pale yellow, accentuated by a white bell tower. The architecture was beautiful, and Scott agreed that we should visit the church the next day. For now, I wanted to learn the streets and see what the city had to offer.

  Only a few yards from the basilica, we came to a pedestrian bridge. I paused, my breath taken away by the fantastic view.

  To either side of the bridge, the ground dropped away sharply, leaving the pastel-colored buildings perched on high cliffs. In the distance, the Mediterranean Sea glowed navy blue, fading into the paler hues of the horizon. It was impossible to discern where the water ended and the sky began.

  “Wow,” I exclaimed softly.

  Scott wrapped his arm around my waist. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

  I blinked up at him. He wasn’t looking out at the view; he was staring down at me, his eyes alight with something like wonder.

  I blushed and broke from his admiring gaze. He gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger, redirecting my face to his.

  “We really do need to work on you accepting compliments,” he dictated.

  “Thank you,” I breathed, compelled by his stern gaze.

  He brushed a soft kiss over my lips. “That’s better.” His cheek skimmed against mine as he leaned close to whisper in my ear. “Good girl.”

  My clit pulsed and my core heated, my body reacting to the praise with visceral intensity.

  I licked my lips. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” His fingers curled into my waist, reminding me how he’d gripped me while he’d fucked me hard from behind.

  “We’re in public,” I protested weakly.

  “No one would know I’d said anything to turn you on if you weren’t blushing so brightly.”

  I dipped my head. “I can’t help it.”

  “Are you blushing because you’re embarrassed? Or because I’m getting you hot?”

  “Scott,” I scolded in an undertone.

  “Sir,” he corrected me, the honorific teasing across my neck on his low whisper.

  I shuddered as desire coursed through me. “Please,” I begged. “Don’t.”

  He chuckled in my ear, a sound of pure masculine satisfaction. Mercifully, he pulled away, taking my hand so he could lead me farther into the city.

  “I think you’re starting to like tormenting me,” I grumbled.

  He shot me a sly smile. “Is that what I’m doing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I suppose I am enjoying it.”

  I bumped him with my shoulder. “Bastard.” The word held a teasing lilt, and he didn’t take offense.

  He simply shrugged with a wide grin that took years off his weathered face.

  I blinked and tore my eyes away from him. I’d been staring in rapt fascination, entranced by his joy.

  Instead, I focused on the city around us. We’d entered a narrow pedestrian street, lined with countless shops and restaurants on either side. Jewel toned awnings hung over many of them, the garish colors competing for shoppers’ attention. Yellow seemed to be the most predominant choice, and I noticed lemon motifs in several windows.

  “What do you think the lemons are about?” I asked Scott, idly curious.

  “Let’s find out.”

  He ushered me into a souvenir shop. It seemed to sell mostly magnets, postcards, and jewelry. My attention caught on an adorable pair of glass lemon drop earrings as soon as we walked in. I touched their smooth, round surface, feeling their delicate weight.

  Scott immediately picked them up and carried them to the counter.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Getting these for you.”

  “I don’t need them,” I protested. He’d already bought me the stuffed Hedwig plushy—and I’d slept with it every night he was gone.

  I did
n’t need more gifts from him. His presence was gift enough.

  “You like them,” he replied, setting them down on the counter. He turned his attention to the shop owner. “So,” he said conversationally, “What are the lemons about? We’ve seen them everywhere.”

  The man beamed at us. “You just arrived in Sorrento?” His accent was thick, but he seemed willing to speak to us in English.

  “Yeah,” I confirmed. “Sorry, I don’t really speak Italian.” I knew the basics, but I couldn’t carry a conversation.

  “It’s okay,” he reassured me. “The lemons are popular because of the limoncello we make here. Have you tried it?”

  “No. Is it sour?”

  “Here,” the man said, picking up a small basket that I hadn’t noticed on the counter. It was filled to the brim with individually wrapped hard candies. “Try.”

  I picked one up and unwrapped it dubiously. “This is limoncello? I thought it was a drink.”

  “It’s inside. Try it,” he urged again.

  I popped the sweet into my mouth and sucked on it. At first, it tasted like a faintly sour lemon drop. Then, the hard coating cracked, and liquid oozed onto my tongue. The lemony flavor was tinged with the distinct burn of alcohol. I suppressed a grimace and swallowed.

  Scott laughed. “Not your favorite?”

  I forced a smile, not wanting to offend the shop owner. “Thank you,” I hedged, not deigning to reply to Scott.

  “We’d like the earrings, please.” He slid them farther across the counter to indicate his intent to purchase them.

  When the owner rang them up, I discovered they only cost twelve euros. I breathed a small sigh of relief. They weren’t expensive, so I didn’t have to feel too guilty about accepting the gift from Scott.

  As we stepped out of the shop, I slipped the silver hoops in place so I could wear the earrings as we walked through the city.

  Scott smiled and flicked one of them lightly. “Adorable,” he approved. Again, he was studying my face.

  “Thanks,” I said, expressing my gratitude for the compliment rather than the gift.

  He pressed a kiss to my forehead, communicating his pleasure with me. “You’re welcome.”

  We walked a little farther down the street, until the crowds began to thin out. I was about to suggest we turn back when I noticed white footprints painted on the pavement.

  “I wonder where these lead,” I mused, following them.

  “Down the rabbit hole, apparently.”

  “What?”

  Scott waved a brochure at me. I hadn’t noticed him accepting it from a woman who stood to the side of the street.

  “This restaurant they’re promoting. Artis Domus. The leaflet says it’s like Alice in Wonderland. Apparently, they have peacocks and bunnies.”

  “Bunnies?” I practically bounced on the balls of my feet, excitement thrumming through me. “Can we pet them?”

  He laughed and kissed my forehead again. “Let’s find out.”

  Chapter 12

  “Not that I’m not enjoying watching this, but do you want to sit down?” Scott’s voice rumbled with mirth.

  I turned and looked up. Way up. I was crouched low on the grass, and I hadn’t heard him approach. Now, he loomed over me, grinning down at me.

  I flushed and stood, abandoning my attempt to summon the nearest bunny. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you wait to eat. He’s just so fluffy. I want to pet him.”

  He cocked his head at me, his eyes twinkling. “Have I told you how cute you are?”

  My cheeks burned hotter. “A few times, yeah.”

  “Do you want to try to pet the peacock, too?”

  I shook my head. “No. Peacocks are assholes.”

  His laugh boomed through the garden, his head tipping back. The sunlight filtering through the leafy trees played over his defined features, softening them.

  “Well, they are assholes,” I defended myself. “They won’t let you near them. They just sit there, looking all majestic from a distance. That one would probably peck my eyes out if I got too close.” I gestured to the nearest white peacock.

  Scott took my hand, tugging me closer to him. “Sounds dangerous. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

  A thrill raced through me, even though I knew he was teasing. I liked the idea of him protecting me, far more than was probably healthy.

  “You promise?” I tried to sound lighthearted, but my words were heavier than I intended.

  He caressed my cheek, his expression dropping to something more serious. “Always.”

  My chest tightened. If only he really could promise that. He didn’t have to promise me forever. We hadn’t known each other long, and I didn’t know if I even believed in forever.

  But the uncertainty of what would happen when this week was over made my stomach twist.

  I chose to willfully ignore it, pushing my concerns away so I could enjoy this time with him.

  “I love animals,” I babbled to cover my discomfiture. “I kind of grew up with a menagerie at my house.”

  Scott pushed in my chair for me and took a seat beside me. He was still smiling, oblivious to my moment of pain and uncertainty.

  “Your house was big enough to host a menagerie?” He clearly thought I was exaggerating.

  “Well, my house itself wasn’t that big. But we had a good bit of land. It’s right on the outskirts of the city, but there are several acres of woodland and pastures. At one point, we had four dogs, five cats, three ponies, and a goat. Oh, and a beta fish.”

  He leaned forward with genuine interest. “How’d your family end up with that much land near the city?”

  “It was my great-grandparents’ old farm house. Pieces of the farm were sold over time, but the heart of the property was still left.”

  “Was? Isn’t it in your family anymore?”

  My heart sank. I hadn’t meant to talk about my childhood home. I didn’t want to think about how it was now a crumbling ruin, its soul ravaged and its contents robbed.

  “My family still owns it,” I replied. I didn’t say anything else.

  The waitress arrived to take our order. I ordered prosecco and lobster linguine, and he requested beer and a pizza. I tried to formulate what I was going to say next to keep the conversation flowing.

  He spoke before I could come up with anything.

  “My family still lives in the house I grew up in,” he said when the server left.

  I blinked at him. “What?”

  “In Colorado. My parents still live there.”

  “Are you actually telling me about your life right now? I mean, I’m not trying to sound accusatory. I want to know more about you. I’m just surprised.”

  He offered a small smile. “It’s going to be an awfully long week if we don’t talk. I think I can trust you enough to tell you some things. I want to share with you. There are just a lot of things I can’t talk about. But I’ll say what I can. You were right to be pissed at me the last time I saw you in York. I didn’t want to open up, so I walked away instead of communicating. That’s on me.”

  My heart leapt into my throat. I’d longed to know more about him, and I could hardly believe he was going to share with me.

  “I hate lying,” he said solemnly, “but it’s part of my job. I didn’t want to lie to you.” He held my hand on top of the table, stroking my palm with his thumb. “I’ve never been able to say the things I’ve told you. Not to anyone.”

  “I’m glad you can share with me. I want to know you better. I’d never violate your trust.”

  I leaned forward, propping one elbow on the table. “What can you tell me about Colorado? I’ve never been. What’s it like?”

  “It’s beautiful. I grew up in a small town located on the edge of Rocky Mountain National Park, so there are wonderful views of the mountains. It’s a bit of a tourist destination, but I was part of the local community when I was growing up.” His gaze turned inward, his expression a touch wistful. “I have a lot of famil
y there. Tons of cousins on my mother’s side.”

  “It sounds like you miss them.”

  He blinked and focused on me again. “I love my family, but it’s not the same anymore. I’m not the same.”

  “I understand,” I said softly. “In my own way, I understand.” He’d probably seen things—and done things—that made it difficult to slip back into civilian life. His reasons for feeling alienated from his home were different from mine, but that didn't change the outcome: we both felt like we didn’t have roots anywhere in this world.

  He nodded, acknowledging our shared pain. “I’m the only member of my family who doesn’t live there anymore. I go visit them sometimes. My parents, my brother, and my sister. They’re both married now. I have three nieces and two nephews.”

  “That’s a big family,” I remarked. “What’s the age difference between you and your siblings? I have two sisters, and we’re really close in age. It made for a lot of fighting growing up—you know, lots of teenage hormones under one roof. But we’re all close friends now.” Despite my turmoil when it came to my childhood, I did love my sisters dearly.

  “That’s great. I’m not close with my brother and sister like I used to be, but we still keep in touch.” He smiled, but a shadow passed over his eyes. “Gregory’s two years older than I am. He had a bit of a big brother complex. It always had to be acknowledged that he was the oldest.

  “Kelly was born when I was twelve. That came as a shock to my parents. Mom had to go back to work at the hotel to help support us. My dad was in construction. He worked hard, but we didn’t have much growing up.”

  I thought of my own cosseted childhood, when I’d been provided with anything I could have wanted. But material things and privileges came with an emotional price, and I would have traded them all for unconditional love.

  I decided not to talk about that. I didn’t want to interrupt him now that he was finally sharing. And I didn’t really want to examine my feelings about my childhood too closely. I definitely preferred to ignore how those experiences had shaped me in adulthood.

  “How did that affect you? Your mom going back to work, I mean.” I was pressing Scott for deeper emotional information, but I didn’t think this would reveal anything that would jeopardize the secrecy of his job.