Our Italian Summer

by Jennifer Probst

  I trembled but didn’t back off. “I tempt you?”

  He shuddered. “Yes, Francesca, can’t you see it? I’m always trying to get close to you or find excuses to talk, but I keep my distance because I’m afraid it’ll be obvious to the group. I don’t want to put anyone in a bad position, especially you or your family.” A touch of frustration surged, but then his fingers slipped through mine and he was holding my hand, and my entire soul sighed with pleasure. “That morning in Capri, I was crazed to kiss you. I barely managed to hold back in time.”

  “I wanted you to kiss me,” I said simply, past flirting or trying to play games.

  A groan escaped him. “I wasn’t sure. This is new territory for me. I don’t want to disrespect you or the rules of my job. Do you understand?”

  “I do. And I don’t want to put you in that position either. But—”

  “But?”

  His eyes practically pleaded for me to finish. “But I can’t stop thinking about you either,” I whispered. “And I want more, even if it’s messy or wrong or crazy.”

  He muttered in Italian—which sounded like sexy curse words—and gripped my hand hard. “Francesca, I—”

  “Hey, guys, is this where the party is?”

  Immediately we drew back, as if burned, and turned around. Dana and Steve were walking across the terrace, smiling big and still obviously tipsy. Cherry and Laura trailed behind and waved. I held my breath, waiting to see if they’d caught us holding hands, but they swooped in and dragged chairs over, ordering more drinks and chattering merrily.

  “Where’s Allegra and Sophia?” Dana asked.

  “Oh, they went to bed. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d have a nightcap and found Enzo with the same idea.” I shrugged off his presence like it was nothing and prayed I sounded convincing.

  “Best tour guide ever!” Cherry screeched, giving him a high five. “Hey, can I bum a cigarette? I miss smoking so much and I’m on vacay.”

  Laura gasped. “No! I will not let you slide back into old habits. No offense, Enzo, but you need to quit. It will wreck your body and shorten your life span.”

  “Oh, he only smokes one per day.”

  Uh-oh. Everyone turned to look at me curiously, and I realized it sounded weird that I had such knowledge. Enzo coughed, obviously hiding a grin, but that only made Laura warm up to her subject. “Well, that doesn’t matter. Research proves one cigarette is just as bad as half a pack.”

  He glanced at me with amusement. “Sì, I remember someone telling me the same exact thing once.”

  I was tempted to shoot him a warning look but decided acting casual was the best plan. Cherry began to whine a bit, then Laura kissed her, and she seemed to forget she wanted a cigarette. Steve settled next to Enzo and launched into a conversation about the World Cup, and a half hour passed before I was able to finally extricate myself.

  I gave a dramatic yawn. “Goodness, I’m tired. I better get to bed. Good night, everyone.”

  Enzo stood. “Me too. I’ll head back with you.”

  No one questioned our retreat, and after they called out their goodbyes and ordered yet another round of drinks, we escaped to the elevator. The door whooshed closed and we faced each other.

  “Well, that was interesting,” I said, suddenly shy in the bright glare of lights.

  He laughed and rubbed his head. “Their timing is terrible. And they’ll be hurting tomorrow.”

  I smiled back. “Punishment for the crime of interruption.”

  “Level three, right?”

  “Yes.”

  The light beeped, and too soon, we arrived at my floor.

  “I’ll walk you to your room,” he said gruffly.

  “Okay.”

  My heart raced and my palms had started to sweat, and when we arrived at my door, suddenly I couldn’t handle the stress any longer. “What were you going to say before we got cut off?” I asked, turning to him.

  He hesitated. Lifted a hand and gently touched my cheek. I fell into his deep, dark gaze and reveled in the warm tenderness of the moment, a complete contradiction to the buzz under my skin and the way my body seemed to ache for him. “I was going to say I’m willing to take a risk if you are. We’re both discreet. I don’t even know what’s between us—but I swear I’ll back off if you just say the word. I refuse to ruin your vacation by stressing you out further or distracting you from your family. Capisce?”

  I half closed my eyes, then leaned into his touch. “Capisco,” I said softly.

  Blistering words fell from his lips—either a curse or a prayer—and then his head lowered and he was kissing me. I fell into every magical sensation, relishing the soft, firm movement of his mouth over mine, the gentle thrust of his tongue, the delicious, savory taste and scent of him filling up my senses. His body pressed against mine, his hard muscles cradling my soft curves, and my head spun like I’d drunk a cheap bottle of whiskey and had to cling to him for stability.

  And then he was stepping back, his gaze locking with mine, and he gave me a smile.

  I smiled back.

  “Buona notte, Francesca.”

  “Buona notte.”

  I watched him until he disappeared into the elevator. Then I went inside, changed into my pajamas, and climbed into bed.

  I slept deeply and dreamlessly until morning.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Allegra

  “So, what did you think of the statue David?” Ian asked.

  We were walking back into the hotel after dinner the second night in Florence. The day had been packed, beginning with the Galleria dell’Academia, then the Uffizi Gallery. After standing in front of the towering Michelangelo sculpture and setting my sights on The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, I was a little giddy. I honestly felt like I was drunk on art and the nonstop stream of beauty around me on a daily basis. I tried not to act too nerdy, but after spouting off various facts about paintings, I realized Ian enjoyed hearing my thoughts and analysis, even asking further questions until I was comfortable enough to say anything I wanted.

  Yeah, it was heady.

  We’d had a few hours free before eating at a local café with the most amazing spaghetti and meatballs I’d ever tasted. The tables were small so we’d had to split up, and Ian had been in a different group. I hadn’t really seen him one-on-one since that day in Capri. I was glad he finally sought me out.

  “I’ve never been so impressed with a naked guy in my whole life,” I said honestly.

  He laughed. “Funny, you took the words right out of my mouth.”

  I laughed with him. “What’d you have for dinner?”

  “The spaghetti and meatballs.”

  “So did I! Wasn’t it killer? They put some type of herb in the meat I can’t place. Even Nonni couldn’t figure it out. She said when we get back home, she’s buying every herb to experiment until she finds the match.”

  “Why didn’t she just ask the chef?”

  I shook my head in disappointment. “Never. It’s a challenge to figure it out yourself. She doesn’t believe in sharing recipes.”

  “Good to know.” He turned and glanced at Mom and Nonni, who were a few feet behind talking to Mary and Ray. “Hey, my parents are tired so they’re heading to bed early. I don’t feel like reading and it’s too late to go anywhere. Enzo said it’s a full moon tonight and there’s this nice sitting area upstairs on the terrace around the corner from the bar. Want to hang out?”

  Giddy bubbles of pleasure burst in my veins. I shrugged and tried to be casual. “Yeah, sure. What time?”

  “Fifteen minutes? Your mom won’t mind?”

  “No, I’ll tell her where we’ll be. I agree—it’s too nice of a night to be inside.”

  “Cool, see you in a bit.”

  He disappeared, and Mom and Nonni came over. “Are you heading to bed?” I ask
ed.

  Mom lifted her brow. “Trying to get rid of us?”

  I knew she was teasing but I tried hard not to blush. Awkward. “Umm, Ian wants to hang out upstairs on the terrace for a bit. Enzo said it was a full moon, so we thought we’d check it out.”

  Nonni smiled. “Sounds like fun. I’ll be asleep by the time you come back. You have your key?”

  I nodded. Mom got this weird look on her face like she’d swallowed a sharp object. “The terrace?” she asked in a high-pitched voice. “Where the bar is?”

  I tensed. If she dared to question an innocent hangout, I was going to lose it. I was eighteen years old, we were completely chaperoned, and I hadn’t left her sight since the beginning of the tour. One mistake shouldn’t erase all the years I managed to stay out of trouble. “It’s not like we’re drinking. We just want to talk. I’m all packed to head into Venice, so my luggage will be ready in the morning.”

  “Sure.” Was that a gleam of disappointment in her eyes? I didn’t understand her. She’d made it a point to tell me Ian seemed nice, and now she was trying to block me from seeing him. The usual frustration shot through me every time I tried to deal with her. It was a miracle she wasn’t racing back to her room to dive into her work. I couldn’t believe she’d managed not to disappear all day to jump on a conference call. “I guess I’ll retire, too. Are you going to freshen up first?”

  I rolled my eyes. “No, Mom. It’s not a date, and I don’t need to paste a bunch of makeup on my face so I can feel better about myself. I have my phone and key and that’s enough.”

  Nonni chuckled and squeezed my shoulder. “Oh, you are so like your mom. She was never into high fashion, cosmetics, or anything too girly. It was one of her best assets. Being comfortable with who she is.”

  Mom’s mouth dropped a bit in surprise, like she had no clue Nonni thought something nice about her. Was she just as insecure with their relationship? Were we all completely fucked up, or were we normal? I knew Mom and Nonni disagreed on a ton of viewpoints like religion, work, and family responsibilities, but I figured Mom didn’t care about her approval. Maybe I was wrong.

  I headed upstairs to the terrace. The bar was crowded, but around the corner was a high table with two chairs that was deserted. I slid onto one of the seats and studied the view while I waited for Ian.

  Up this high, the city of Florence stretched out for miles. I caught the peak of the Duomo, and terra-cotta rooftops filled my sight. Bright flowers spilled from pots that seemed to make the skyline a bit of a garden. The angles and slopes of the buildings gave it a beautiful symmetry that demanded to be captured.

  I felt his presence before I even heard his steps. “This is a beautiful spot,” he commented, smiling as he slid into the opposite chair. “I can’t believe we’re already halfway through the tour. It’s going so fast.”

  I agreed, especially since I’d fought coming here. “I know. I’m looking forward to Venice, though. Have there been any places we skipped that you wanted to check out?”

  He cocked his head. “We picked this tour because it covered all of our must-sees, but I think I may head to Assisi to stay a few nights. I want to visit the church and the monastery. I also heard that’s the place to get the best lasagna in the world. The nuns spend all morning cooking to serve the meal at lunch near the monastery.”

  “Was the town named after a saint?”

  “Yeah, St. Francis of Assisi.”

  “The one on the medal you wear?”

  He reached up and touched the silver disc tucked into his shirt, as if he’d forgotten he regularly wore it. “That’s right—he’s my patron saint. The one I pray to a lot and who guides me. St. Francis was known for his love of animals. He lived a life of poverty and served others.”

  “I’ve heard of him. The pope is named after him, right?”

  “Yes, he took his name, which was a great honor.”

  “What are some of the other saints?”

  “St. Anthony is the saint of lost things. His church is in Padua, which also wasn’t on the tour, but I figured I should be happy since I’ve been able to pray in over a dozen amazing churches so far.” His blue eyes sparkled and I loved watching his face when he talked. He had a calm, warm energy that made me feel good inside. “St. Christopher protects travelers, so I have one of his statues in my car. My mom bought it the day I got my license.”

  “I love the idea of feeling watched over.” Nonni had tried to get me interested in praying, but it was easier to follow my mom’s footsteps and not bother. The few times she dragged me to church had been so boring, I almost fell asleep. But at night, the loneliness struck me a lot. I felt sometimes like I was spinning in a world with no one to tether me.

  “Did you ever lose someone close to you? Someone you feel is guiding you?” he asked curiously.

  “No. My grandfather died before I was born, so I didn’t get a chance to get to know him. Mom and Nonni tell me stories, though.”

  “You should read about the saints and find who speaks to you.”

  “Maybe I will.” The waiter came over, and we ordered two sodas. “So, you don’t need to rush home to look for a job or anything? I know you just graduated. What are you going to do?”

  The waiter dropped off our drinks. Ian took a sip, then gazed at me with an odd intensity. “I’m going back to school in the fall. I have the rest of the summer before I begin my next phase of life.”

  “Cool. What are you getting your master’s in?”

  A smile touched his lips. “Allegra, I’m going into the seminary. I’m studying to be a priest.”

  I coughed as the soda spurted down the wrong pipe, and Ian had to pound me on the back. Holy crap! Did he just say what I thought?

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize that would freak you out so much,” he said in amusement. “Did I shock you?”

  “Um, yes. I mean, it’s great, I mean, I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone who wanted to be a priest. It’s kind of a dying profession, right?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, it definitely is. I probably should have told you earlier, but it just never really came up.”

  Disappointment crashed through me. I’d been wrong about the feelings stirring up when I was around him. Sure, he’d kind of held my hand and seemed into me, but I’d been all wrong. Future priests weren’t interested in girls or dating. He was just being nice to me and . . . priestly.

  “Uh-oh. I can see your thoughts whirling around. What is it?”

  I forced a smile and pretended I was thrilled. “Nothing, I’m happy for you. I just don’t know too much about it except you can’t get married or have a family. You need to dedicate yourself to God, right?”

  He nodded. His blue eyes seemed to darken, as if the thought still bothered him. “That’s right. It was the hardest part for me to accept. Remember I told you that my parents and I were having a big problem?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, my decision to enter the priesthood was the big issue. They flipped out. Tried to talk me out of it. My mom cried, worried I’d be giving up my only opportunity for love and children. Dad yelled at our local priest and told him to stop putting ideas in my head. It was hard for them. I kept trying to explain it was a calling I’ve had since I was young. When I went into church, I felt at peace. Like I was home. Everything I learned about God not only comforted me, but pushed me to know more.” He shook his head. “I just wanted to share my life with the world in order to help. There’s so much poverty and violence and unhappiness. If I could do one little thing to make a positive change, it’d be worth it. Sounds ridiculous?”

  He was special. There was no one I’d ever met who wanted to sacrifice his future for others. “No, it’s not ridiculous at all. It’s beautiful. But I still wonder if you could do all that and keep your options open. Like the Peace Corps, or working for a charity? There are tons of jobs that give back.”<
br />
  “You’re right, but not one centered completely around God. Following him and doing his work is my calling. No matter where I’m sent in the future, whether it’s a small community parish or a big church in a city, I get to be a hands-on messenger. And not in the way of knocking on doors—though I’m not knocking that approach,” he said with a laugh, “but in a natural way.”

  “Can you help the animals if you’re a priest?” I asked.

  “I intend to. I want to work with local shelters and maybe get a program together with the church. I have a lot of ideas, but I’ll need to complete another four years of study in the seminary before being ordained. It’s still years of work and training ahead, but I’m excited.”

  I tried to sift through this new information he’d thrown at me. In a crazy way, I felt like I’d lost the potential to experience something special. Which was stupid, because there was nothing going on between us except a casual friendship based around a tour.

  “I’m happy for you. Knowing what you want to do with your life is a big deal. Have your parents accepted your decision?”

  “Now they do. We struggled and didn’t talk for a long time. Finally, they gave me an ultimatum. Said I needed to go to college and complete a degree first on my own. Then, if I still felt strongly about going into the priesthood, they’d accept my decision.”

  My eyes widened. “And you did it? Oh man, I would’ve been so pissed at my parents for trying to force me to do something like that. It’s your life, Ian. I want to scream at my mom when she talks down to me about being a chef or tries to manipulate my decisions. They have no right to choose our futures.”

  He nodded, but he lacked the moral outrage I expected. “I get it, and that’s what caused our big fallout. I refused at first, but when I took some time to reflect and pray, I realized they may have been right. I wanted to go straight to the seminary, study theology, and work on my bachelor’s degree from there. Now I know it would have been a mistake. I wasn’t mature enough, and I didn’t realize the sacrifice I was truly going to be making. I’m glad I listened to my parents. I ended up attending a four-year secular college and took a wide variety of classes. I lived in the dorm. I partied. I made tons of friends and dated. And in my senior year, I told them I was still sure I wanted to be a priest after graduation.”