“Please,” Elio said next, gesturing to a long table under the porch awning with cushioned chairs surrounding it. “We have lemonade for refreshment, and a selection of local cheeses and meats for your enjoyment.”

We gathered around the table, taking a seat and filling small plates with our choices as our hosts poured everyone glasses of lemonade. Introductions were made, letting us know who we were spending our day with. There was Stephen and Nicole, newlyweds from Illinois, Brian and Bethany, a French couple in their forties who were celebrating their twentieth wedding anniversary, and James and Betty, on holiday from London with their twelve-year-old daughter, Emma.

“We have a special day planned for you,” Elio said, standing at the head of the table with his own glass of lemonade. “We’ll start with a tour of the vineyard and grounds, followed by picking fresh vegetables and fruits and herbs from our garden to prepare lunch. You will each have an important assignment to help with bringing lunch from the farm to our table,” he said, pointing at young Emma. “Even you.”

She beamed at her parents, and then back at Elio.

“After lunch, we invite you to enjoy our pool, and the beautiful Tuscan weather,” he said, gesturing to all that surrounded us. “Now, before we begin, are any of you boarding with us this evening?”

I raised my left hand slightly.

“Ah,” Elio said, clapping his hands together before extending them toward us. “Meraviglioso. We will show you to your room now, if you’d like to leave your belongings before the tour.”

Liam and I followed Antonella around the house to where a separate, smaller extension of the house was, right next to the pool. She showed us to our private apartment, complete with a four-post bed, a rustic, sun-baked sitting area, and an adorable vintage vanity that made me wish I’d thought to pack my makeup just so I could use it. There were several shelves full of books, board games stacked on the coffee table, and a record player with albums I couldn’t wait to sift through later.

Once we’d dropped our bags off, we rejoined the group as Elio led us out for the tour, and Antonella stayed behind to prep for lunch. Emma and Paolo stayed behind, too, running around the yard with Biscotti.

“This house and land have been in my family since 1765,” Elio said as we walked between the rows of grape vines sprawling to our left and right. “It wasn’t until the 1930s that my great-grandmother began growing grapes to harvest for wine, and soon after, she and my grandfather added olive trees, too. Since then, we have supplied wine and olive oil all over Italy, and even the world.” He waved us to the left, leading the group into a row of grapes. “Come.”

He went on about the process of turning these little grapes into wine, and explained how if we came back in a couple of months, we could pluck the grapes fresh from the vine and taste their sweetness. Unfortunately for us, the grapes were bright green and hard at the moment, and eating them would likely end with us in the bathroom for the rest of the day.

We followed Elio down a long path that extended past the vineyard, listening to him talk about wild boars and truffle hunting in the fall. Then, he brought us to a wide-open field with a picturesque background to allow for pictures.

Liam dug into his pocket, struggling for a second before he pulled out the battered, disposable camera from our first night together.

He tapped it against his palm before arching a brow at me. “Last one,” he said, nodding to the scenic backdrop.

I smiled, but hated how that word made my stomach drop, how last seemed to live inside my head more than usual as July faded toward August.

“Last one,” I echoed, and then we handed the camera to Bethany and asked her to take our photo.

Liam pulled me into his side, his warm hand possessively around my waist, and I leaned into him with a smile. But just before Bethany snapped the photo, Liam tilted my chin to angle toward him and dropped his lips to mine.

Click.

“Thank you,” he told Bethany when she handed the camera back, and she smiled with pink cheeks, looking between us like we were the cutest thing she’d ever seen. When she’d rejoined her husband, Liam handed the camera to me.

“It’s yours now,” he said.

“Think that store we bought it at will develop it, too?”

“I’m sure,” he said. “And you better get two copies.”

It was a simple ask, casual enough to Liam that he sealed it with a kiss on my cheek before following after the group again. But I stood there rooted in place, stunned for a moment.

Because that meant he wanted to take me with him.

Tags: Kandi Steiner Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net