“I say we walk downstream and see if there is a way to cross.”
Gio shifted the backpack higher on his shoulder. “I’m game.”
Emma smiled. “Let’s go.”
Gio took up his position behind Emma, reluctantly letting her hand go as they took a single-file line along the riverbank. He found himself staring at her ass and forced his eyes away.
“Are there any waterways near your new place?” he asked.
“I honestly don’t know. I didn’t get a good look at the place before this trip.”
“Are you excited to get back?”
“I am, but . . . it’s going to be a lot of work. Not that I’m afraid of hard work. It just isn’t something I thought I’d be doing this year.”
He stepped over a log, stayed close. “I have faith in you.”
“You hardly know me.”
“I’m doing everything I can to fix that.”
She glanced over her shoulder, looked him up and down.
“C’mon, you two. Don’t fall behind again,” Nicole yelled.
They didn’t find a shallow enough spot on the river to cross without going for a swim. If anything, the current was getting faster, the water deeper. Instead, they made do with an open patch close to some fallen trees that gave them all a place to sit.
Gio and Rob broke out the food and the six of them talked about their travels.
“Big cities,” Chris told them. “Manhattan, Chicago, Miami. All up and down the West Coast.”
“Is this your first trip to Europe?” Nicole asked.
“Yes. But not my last, this has been one of the best experiences of my life.”
“I was worried the bus rides would be awful,” Rob admitted.
“They haven’t been that bad,” Emma said. “I think stopping for alcohol every few hours helps.”
“And the bathroom breaks. Don’t forget Jean’s bladder,” Gio reminded them.
“Are they not the biggest kick in the pants?” Chris asked. “I hope I’m that active when I’m old.”
“I’ve heard stories about The Villages in Florida,” Rob said.
“What’s to tell? It’s just a retirement community with golf courses, right?” Emma asked.
“All that, yes. But there is a serious swinger community and more STDs being passed around than you see at band camp.”
Gio frowned. “It can’t be that bad.”
Chris put his hand in the air. “I asked Jean about it. She said something about the loofahs hanging from the mirrors on the golf carts. Apparently, that’s how the swingers identify other swingers. Complete with a color code so you know just how into the swinger scene they are.”
“Go, Granny!” Nicole said, laughing.
Gio leaned closer to Emma. “Remind me never to let my mother move to Florida.”
Emma shrugged. “I think my mother should.”
Nicole laughed. “I think so, too. Are there vineyards in Florida? Maybe your dad can buy some vines down there.”
“There are wineries everywhere. Even in Florida,” Gio told her.
“Wait, your dad owns a vineyard?” Rob asked.
Oh shit . . . that’s right, Emma hadn’t told the others about R&R.
She looked between Nicole and Rob, then the others. “Yeah,” she said on a sigh. “My father is Robert Rutledge. R&R Wineries.”
“Oh, man! That’s crazy,” Chris said.
Rob looked at Pierre. “I’m pretty sure we have a bottle of their cabernet in our wine fridge at home.”
“That’s huge. Why didn’t you say anything?” Chris asked.
Emma shrugged, looked at Gio.
Nicole answered the question faster than Emma could form the words.
“Because people treat Emma differently when they hear she comes from money.”
“Is that true, cara?” Gio asked.
“I told you about Kyle.”
Gio reached over and took her hand in his.
“People suck,” Nicole exclaimed.
“Don’t worry, Emma, we’ll keep making you load up the bus even if we know who you are,” Chris said.
“That’s Gio’s job,” Emma said.
“Oh, that’s right.” They all laughed.
“Wait, that means you were hustled, Gio.” Rob tossed a fallen twig from the ground in Gio’s direction.
“Hustled?”
“Yeah. Clearly Emma knew more about wine than she let on before your wine taste-off last week.”
Gio smiled as he drew back and looked Emma’s way. “It’s okay. I liked the game.”
“You’re too easy, D’Angelo,” she said.
He winked.
“What happened?”
Nicole was on Emma the second they closed the door to their room.
The walk up from the river was much more exhausting than the walk down. The whole way Emma envisioned Gio, as he walked behind, asking himself if she wore a thong.
A glance over her shoulder and she noticed the man blush, his eyes darting away from her ass.
For hours Emma hadn’t thought about the missing email from her father . . . or his lawyers. She hadn’t wondered how she was going to show her father up with the plot of land, or even if the whole thing was going to fall through.
No. All Emma had thought of was how soon she could find herself alone with Giovanni without worry of interruption.
They’d parted in the hall with the promise to meet by the villa’s pool.
“Well?” Nicole stood impatiently, staring Emma down.
“He finally made a move.”
“Hahaha . . . how big of a move?”
Emma flopped her butt on her bed. “I can honestly say I’ve never been kissed quite like that.”
Nicole squealed.
“Nicole, he is . . . I don’t know—”
“Don’t know what? He’s hot. He’s Italian. He’s single. And he’s here and into you! What don’t you know?” Nicole took up a space across from her on the bed.
“I know that part. Giovanni kisses in a way I forget my name.”
Nicole commenced squealing once again.
Emma tossed a pillow at her friend. “Stop. He asks me about my life . . . my family, what made Kyle and I get married. Do you know the last time that happened?”
Nicole shrugged.
“Never. What if Gio knows this, somehow, and he’s using this to fake this attraction?” Emma asked.
“I feel the need to point out two things here. First . . . no one . . . and I do mean no one, on this trip has suggested that Gio isn’t exactly what he professes to be. He is into you, and I think we can both agree he could have had you several days ago but for some crazy-ass reason, the man backed off. Yes?”
Emma nodded.
“The second point I need to state in case your insecurities are tuned in more than my best-friend intention. So what? So what if his intention is to enjoy your company on this trip without seeing you when we’re home? And for the record, I don’t think I’m seeing that . . . but so what? Are you enjoying this . . . him?”
“I am.”
“Then stop getting in your head.” Nicole leaned forward and tapped Emma’s forehead with a finger. “You don’t have to be in a zillion percent control here. You enjoy Gio . . . he enjoys you. Re-fucking-lax, my friend. With all the mental fuckery that your father has put on you, you deserve this. Take a shower, get in your bikini that you know is going to make Giovanni sweat, and enjoy the attention.”