Even though Emma and Nicole volunteered to wear the packs, they were given a pass based on being the owner of a uterus.
Which in this case, Emma was willing to let slide. She was capable and she offered. What more was there to do?
“If you wanted to sneak off with Gio, I can make that happen,” Nicole teased.
“Stop.”
Only Nicole wasn’t about to stop. Not if the last few days were any indication.
From moving seats on the bus to force Emma to sit next to Gio to the constant evening commentary of every time Nicole spotted Gio checking Emma out. Then the night-before meeting of the family . . . even on a phone call, Nicole was gunning for the position of matchmaker.
And Emma wasn’t complaining all that hard. The more time she spent with Giovanni, the more she wanted to spend with the man.
“You ladies ready?” Rob called out.
“Waiting on you,” Emma said.
The six of them started down the driveway, somewhat grouped together. Each had a bottle of water in their hands, with more in the packs should they need them.
Emma had pulled her hair back into a thick ponytail. She wore one of her now-famous street vendor T-shirts and a pair of shorts. The sneakers she had weren’t ideal for hiking, but they’d have to do.
“Did anyone ask which direction we should go?” Nicole asked.
“Rob and I spoke with the owners before you guys came down,” Gio told her. “Take the driveway to the main road, then a left, and almost immediately there’s a cut in the clearing that the locals use to get down to the river.”
“They said some of the walk is steep, so getting back up will take longer,” Rob added.
Emma reached her hands over her head. “It just feels good to get outside and stretch.”
“Do you hike a lot at home?” Gio asked her.
“Not as much as I’d like. But I have a feeling that’s going to change.” Living in a home on property instead of a condo was bound to give her more opportunities for outside exercise.
“What’s driving the change?” Rob asked.
“I’m, ah . . . moving into a house. I’ve been living in a condominium since I left home for college. There’s plenty of open space to stretch my legs where I’m going,” Emma said.
“Sounds amazing. Rob and I have talked about moving out of the city at some point,” Pierre told them.
“Not me,” Chris said. “I love city life. I don’t mind getting out with nature, but if we come across a snake or anything that has more than two legs and is bigger than my fist, I’ll be the first one back to the castle.”
“What about you, Gio? Does San Diego offer long hikes?” Nicole asked.
“Not especially. You have to get out of the city. Balboa Park has plenty of space, but I’d be lying if I said I spent a lot of time there. I get down to the water a bit. My brother-in-law has a boat. But it’s more for business than pleasure, but we go out on it.” Gio glanced at Emma. “Hiking vineyards is more my speed.”
“I don’t know if flat fields are considered hiking,” she said.
“More than cement sidewalks and asphalt roads.”
He had a point.
“I’m all about the treadmill,” Nicole announced.
“You don’t even like that,” Emma reminded her.
“I said I was about it. I never said I enjoyed it.”
They made it to the end of the long drive and took a left.
“Is that it?” Rob asked, pointing to a small clearing on the opposite side of the road.
“I think so,” Gio said.
Chris held back by Emma and Nicole. “You guys go ahead and hit the cobwebs first.”
The narrow trail allowed a single-file line.
Rob and Pierre went first, then Nicole and Chris . . . and Gio took up the place right behind Emma.
The dense brush offered slightly cooler temperatures than the main road. Even though it was still morning, Italy was showing off a heat index that would rival Temecula’s. The difference, however, was in the foliage. Tuscany was not a desert that, when you added water, produced farmland. The average rainfall was greater than anything in inland California.
Their line spread out as they all carefully walked along the trail, mindful of where they put their feet.
“Are there snakes here?” Chris asked.
“I’m sure there are,” Nicole said with a laugh. “But since you’re in the middle of the line, we’ll all step on them first.”
“Ewww.”
Emma found herself laughing. “Don’t worry, Chris. Nicole will protect you.”
Nicole lifted a hand in the air. “I got ya.”
Up ahead, Rob and Pierre were hiking with speed. Out of earshot, but not out of sight.
The trail started a slow descent, and with that, zigzagged around trees.
“How long did they say it was to get to the river?” Emma asked Gio, who was a few feet behind her.
“Less than an hour.”
“Hey, Gio . . . do you have a first-aid kit in that backpack?” Chris asked.
“Have a blister already?” Nicole teased.
“No. Just in case.”
“Only food and water,” Gio told him.
Emma slowed her pace to let Chris and Nicole get ahead. The trail opened up slightly, giving Emma and Gio the opportunity to walk side by side.
“I’m guessing Chris isn’t all that outdoorsy,” Emma said.
“It’s not supposed to be a strenuous hike. He’ll be fine.”
“Unless our hosts hike Fiji for fun and they told you that based on their own experience.”
“Good point.” Gio looked down at their feet. “Are you slipping around in those shoes?”
“So far, so good.”
“I never asked, but did you find anything in the suitcase that said who the owner is?” Gio asked.
“I found a card, but it wasn’t in English.”
“If it’s Italian, I—”
“Nope. Not Italian. Nicole thought it was Thai, but I think it might be Indonesian. Either way, the suitcase belongs to a short, likely Asian, woman. We’re guessing middle-aged.”
“And you could tell that . . . how?”
“Wraps, cover-ups. Flat shoes and nothing flashy. Granny panties and bras that look like they should have been thrown away years ago.”
“Are you saying younger women don’t have old bras and underwear that are more than dental floss?”
She laughed. “Yeah . . . we have ’em, but we don’t take them on vacation.”
“I never thought of that.”
Emma could see on his face that women in granny panties was a foreign concept. Yeah, chances were he’d heard of them but likely never seen them. “It’s a guess. Not that I’ll ever know for sure. I’ll give the bag to the airport and hope they find the owner.”
Up ahead, Chris and Nicole were talking to each other, and Rob and Pierre were nearly out of sight.
Gio’s words repeated . . . rather slowly, in her head. “Dental floss?”
He laughed. “Thong panties.”
“Yeah, I understood what you meant . . . but dental floss?”
He shrugged. “I don’t get it. Underwear with a string up the ass? I’m not sure what a thong is supposed to accomplish. At least as underwear.”