Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
And for a couple of days, I could enjoy the freedom of being with Jett Davis without having to worry about what anyone else thought or what it might mean.
If only the cyclone had been the only storm on the horizon.
14
JETT
I woke in Locke’s arms, plastered half-starfish-like across his chest and one long leg. There was no telling what time he’d finally come to bed, but I knew better than to risk waking him. Hopefully, his office wouldn’t start bothering him for several more hours because of the time difference.
After sneaking out of his bed to my own bathroom, I showered and dressed. Concetta was nowhere to be found, so I followed the cooking sounds and smell of bacon until I found the kitchen.
There was music playing on an honest-to-god radio with an antenna sticking up, propped on the counter next to a stack of papers and two pencil stubs pockmarked with teeth imprints. A middle-aged man in a chef’s coat and baggy black-and-white checked pants hummed along to the music.
“Mi scusi, potrei avere una tazza di caffè?” I asked in deliberately mispronounced beginner Italian. I fully expected the resident ornery chef to curse me out of his domain.
The man turned around and grinned. “Parli italiano?”
“Molto male, lo prometto.”
He wiped his hands on a nearby towel and held one out to shake. “Mr. Davis. Please welcome. I am Roberto Sanna.”
“Please call me Jett, and thank you for the incredible dinner last night. I’ve never had sorbetto like that. It was amazing. You’d better guard the leftovers. I plan to sneak in here in search of them one night.”
He laughed. “You would be welcome anytime. Come, let’s get your caffè. How do you like it?”
“Un cappuccino, per favore.”
He gestured to a nearby attendant, a young man this time, who immediately got to work on the large silver espresso machine on the other side of the commercial kitchen.
Roberto turned back to attend to his food, asking me at the same time how I’d like my eggs.
When my coffee and food were ready, I planted myself on the other side of the large central island, where there were plenty of stools and where the other man had been peeling potatoes before stopping to make my coffee.
“Please don’t make me sit at the adult table out there by myself,” I said, flashing Roberto a humble smile.
He waved my concern off. “You sit here and tell us the news from America.”
We spent the next forty minutes gossiping like TMZ fans. I’d spent a lot of time in the past several years chatting up people from all walks of life on various jobs. It was something that came easily to me, maybe because I had social parents and an enormous, gregarious extended family.
But I also appreciated the opportunity to have a break from it, so after scheduling a time later in the morning to talk to Roberto and Concetta about the upcoming Paxis tournament and its hosting needs, I decided to indulge myself with some time in the sun. I returned to the room and peeked in on Locke, confirming he was still dead asleep. Then I changed into swim trunks and made my way out the terrace doors to the pool. The sun was warm, and the sky was a deep, clear blue.
I covered myself in sunscreen and threw myself onto a chaise, barely restraining a pleasured groan at the expansive view and the feel of the warm sun on my skin.
This was the life. No wonder so many celebrities vacationed here.
While my body rested, my brain kept running at full speed. Was last night’s emergency response a common occurrence in Locke’s business? How had he known what to do? The man had been in charge of the company for less than six months, but he’d acted like someone with twenty-five years more experience.
Before I inevitably moved from appreciating his competency to remembering his hand on my dick, my phone buzzed with a text from my brother.
Gabe
Where are you and why is it Italy?
You have to stop tracking me. Seriously, it’s not okay.
I wasn’t sure how he did it, but I worried he’d find a way one day to track me even when I left my personal cell phone at home on official missions.
Gabe
Answer the question. Mav flew up to surprise you and you weren’t there.
My stomach dropped.
Fuck, seriously? Why didn’t he tell me he was coming?
Gabe
You know the dads. They never want to ruin a vibe or be a nuisance.
Since when? Beau is always in my shit, ruining all kinds of vibes.
Gabe
Okay, fine. Mav had a work thing in the city. But still. He was bummed you weren’t there. Did you get a last minute consulting assignment? Amalfi Coast seems a strange place for it. Do they even have companies in that tiny town you’re in?