“You don’t need it,” I tell her. “You are beautiful with and without your makeup. But on the days you want to wear it, I’ll learn how to apply it and do it for you if you like. That way, you don’t have to strain your eyes or worry that it’s coming out crooked.”
She looks at me, and I can’t really see her expression through her dark glasses, but her chin wobbles, and she wraps an arm around my waist.
“You are very kind, Owen.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We settle beneath an orange tree, and I have her lean up against the trunk so that she gets the most shade. I lay her umbrella near us, and she takes off her sunglasses before she unpacks the picnic basket.
“Tell me about your life,” she says, sitting out all different kinds of cheeses and fruits. “My family said you were just recently in Greece for a friend’s wedding? How was that? I’ve always wanted to go there.”
“My friends are…a lot,” I laugh. “I have a group of guys that I’m always with, and they’re all loud, hotheaded, and a bit wild. But they’re family.” I pop a grape in my mouth. “It was my friend Jack’s wedding. There was drama behind the scenes, but the ceremony was gorgeous. They rented a yacht for all of us.”
“Are the rest of them married?”
“No, only Jack. And now me.” I wink at her. “You’ll meet them, and the girls will love you. What about you? Are you worried about leaving your friends behind?”
“I don’t have any friends, Owen,” she says as she smiles sadly. “I have my family that I’m amiable with, and of course, there are others around that are kind to my face, but no one wants to be friends with the freak.”
The anger that seems to like to pop up whenever her feelings are hurt has raised its ugly head again. She looks so incredibly sad, but she shrugs it off like it’s nothing. But it isn’t nothing. It’s everything. She’s never going to be treated like that again as long as I’m around.
“I can see your wheels turning,” she says, smirking over at me. “You get this look about you whenever I mention something like this, or like earlier, when you could tell the families were making me uncomfortable.”
“I would apologize, but I’m not sorry,” I tell her as I take another bite. “So your family kept you pretty sheltered, I take it?”
“Mm, sì.” She takes a drink of orange juice and lays her head back on the rough bark. “I vecchi sono superstiziosi e i giovani sono crudeli.”
The old are superstitious and the young are cruel.
“I remember walking around the village with my mother when I was little, and all the old people would do the sign of the cross and their eyes would get so big looking at me that I would laugh at them.” Her head lolls to the side, and she peeks over at me. “They didn’t like that.” She laughs softly.
“You would think they would know better,” I grit out.
“And the kids would laugh and point, thinking there was something wrong with me. That’s why my mother decided she didn’t want me to go to a regular school or to be seen out in public more than was necessary. She and my father had a pretty big fight about it.”
“They fought about it in front of you?” Not that I should be surprised. My parents never gave me the courtesy of leaving the room when they were arguing about something.
“Oh, of course. They wanted me in the room. They wanted my opinion.”
“How old were you?” I ask her, appalled and wishing I could make that whole experience go away.
“Five.” I take her hand and squeeze. “It’s okay, Owen,” she says, trying to reassure me. “I promise I’ve grown from it. My past doesn’t define me anymore. It makes me the person I am today. And I think I’m a lot stronger than you give me credit for.”
“I give you all the credit, sweet girl,” I tell her. “I know you’re strong because you’re here and you survived. And I don’t ever want you to think that I think you’re weak or that you can’t do things on your own. I know you can. But now that you have me, you don’t have to. So if you need me, you lean on me. I’ll share my strength with you, and I’ll make sure that you don’t have to go through anything alone.”
She smiles at me for a moment, letting the words sink in. She raises my hand to her mouth and gives it a warm kiss before we settle into a comfortable silence as we eat. After a few moments, she leans her head on my shoulder.
“Did you have a happy childhood?” she asks. “Did you get to go to school and make friends and break your wrist on the monkey bars?” A small laugh bubbles up through her.
“I did get to go to school, and I did get to make friends. But I never broke my wrist on any monkey bars, I’m happy to report. I have broken some bones though. They just weren’t in the most innocent of ways.”
“Oh, my tough mafia husband,” she jokes. “Let me guess!” She sits up and looks me directly in the face, narrowing her eyes on me as she tries to come up with a situation.
“I—”
“No!” she cuts me off. “Don’t tell me. It was definitely something death-defying, right? I have visions of you on a motorbike at sunset, making your way through the big city to go beat someone up for not making their payments on time.” She gives me a playful punch on the arm.
“You make me sound like Batman.”
I laugh because she’s not far off. I’ve had a few broken bones, a few stab wounds, and I’ve even been shot twice. This career isn’t really kind to the body. I don’t tell her any of this though, because the thought of her thinking less of me because of the things I’ve done scares the shit out of me.
We’re still so new, so instead of opening up a bit further, I change the subject.
“So, Aurora. You said you always wanted to go to Greece. Any thoughts on where you’d like to go for our honeymoon?”
“We’re going to have a honeymoon?” Her eyes light up like this was never a possibility.
“Of course we are. And I will take you wherever you want to go, for however long you want to go for. Then we can go back to California, and we can find the perfect home for raising our future babies.” I wink at her and lean forward, running the palm of my hand over the soft curve of her belly while I pull her in for a kiss.
“How about Fiji?” she asks when we finally break apart from one another.
“They have the most beautiful little cabanas that sit over the water,” I tell her, kissing her again. “You can walk right out of the front door and jump into the clear blue water.”
“I’ll make sure I pack lots and lots of sunscreen.”
I laugh and kiss her again and again, tasting the sweetness of the fruit on her lips and tongue. Pulling her onto my lap, she lets out a little squeal and then straddles my thighs. She takes my face in her hands, letting her fingertips run through my beard.
“Is this what it’s like for everyone?” she asks.
“What do you mean, Principessa?”
“Does everyone get this lucky? To be so happy with who they’ve been paired with?”