Turn Towards the Sun Book Two: After the Rain by Jennifer Domenico Read Free Book Online

silly we sound.
    The weather is lovely, about seventy degrees, and while it is too cool for a beach day, it is nice enough to hang around outside. We walk into a beachside restaurant, sat at the end of a grassy courtyard and perched just above the water below. A sea breeze swirls through the room, bringing with it the salty smell of the ocean. It’s a small place with a beach theme. Sea shells and fishing nets line the walls, and the tabletops are tiled blue and white.
    “This looks like a good place, no?” Enzo asks.
    I nod. “Yes, it’s cute.”
    We find an open table on the outdoor patio and take a seat. A waiter soon approaches us, carrying a handful of dirty plates he’s just picked up from the table next to us.
    “Un momento, signore,” he says.
    A menu board hangs in the corner, with the daily specials written in Italian.
    “Shall I read the specials, amore?”
    “Let me do it,” I say, with a wink. “We’ll see what I know.”
    He smiles. “Good idea.”
    I study the board for a moment, scanning for any familiar words I learned in Florence.
    “Ah, linguine, that’s easy. Linguine con l’ar-ag-os-ta. L’aragosta?” I repeat, and then look up at Enzo. I’ve got the linguine down, but I don’t know what the other word is.
    “Brava, Ava. Linguine with lobster.”
    “Lobster, okay. Next, bruschetta con pomodoro. Pomodoro is tomato, right?”
    “Right,” he says, grinning, “And now for the challenge.”
    “Gnocchi alla Sorrentina.” I am positive I botched the pronunciation on that one.
    “Okay, when you say the ‘gn’ together, you say it with no ‘g’ sound.” He repeats it. “Now you try.”
    I push my lips into an ‘o’ sound, like he did. It sounds like ‘nyo-kee,’ but I do my best.
    “Brava, amore. I do like it when you put your lips like that. It makes me want to suck them.” He flashes his smile at me.
    I feel my cheeks blush. The waiter returns and hurriedly asks for our order.
    “Tutti i piatti del giorno, per favore,” Enzo says.
    The waiter nods. “Sì signore. Subito.”
    “All the specials?” I ask.
    “Sì.” Enzo replies.
    “I don’t know if I’m that hungry,” I say.
    “Then, we’ll just have some bites, no?” Enzo suggests.
    “You were serious about fattening me up.”
    “Yes, I do love your curves.”
    I laugh. “Good thing ‘cause I do love to eat.”
    The waiter returns with our food and we dig in. I didn’t realize how hungry I was, but I essentially slept through the snack services on the plane, waking only for a short time to eat the light on-flight meal.
    “It’s so good,” I say. “It’s as if it’s the first time I’ve really tasted a tomato or lobster. What are these gnocchi made of?”
    “Potatoes and flour,” Enzo explains. “When they are made well, like these, they are light and fluffy.”
    “Yes, like little tasty clouds. I love them.”
    “You know,” he says, swirling his wine around. “It’s been a while since I’ve had the pleasure of feeding you.”
    I feel my cheeks blushing, as the restaurant is full of people. “How about a little later?” I suggest. “Everyone will stare at us here.” There is no privacy at all.
    “Do you care what other people think? I don’t. If they stare, they’ll know we’re in love and there is nothing wrong with that. Please, bella?”
    “How could I say no to that?”
    Enzo scoots his chair closer to mine and takes the fork from my hand. “Grazie, amore. It pleases me so much to take care of you in this way.”
    He feeds me bite after luxurious bite until my plate is close to empty. I sample every dish on the table, remarking how amazing everything tastes. We drink several glasses of wine and finish our meal. I’m beyond stuffed.
    “I won’t need to eat the rest of the day,” I say, laughing.
    Enzo grins. “We’ll go to the market and pick up some things for the house, and tonight we can just stay home doing whatever you like.”
    “It sounds divine. So, we have a