“Whatcha find?” I asked, standing behind her as she studied the screen on her laptop.

“We seem to be in between surf spots here, but about 30 miles away, there’s a place that looks like it might be okay. There’s a big campsite there and it says they rent out boards, so it seems like a good bet. Want to try it?”

“I’ll try anything with you, baby.”

“Sebastian, focus,” she huffed out, pointing at the map then folding her arms.

“Sure, baby,” I said, winking at her. “I just need to fill up the gas tank, but otherwise we’re good to go.”

I wrapped my hands over her shoulders and planted a quick kiss in her hair.

“Come on then, Hunter,” she snorted, reaching into our bag and throwing me a t-shirt. “Let’s go see what Signora Battelli has got us for breakfast.”

When we walked into the dining area and saw the table covered with mouth-watering food, my eyes widened, and I had a hard time not drooling: fresh fruit, warm bread, sweet rolls, cereal, yogurts, Italian cheese, salamis and cold meat. Fuckin’ A!

Signora Battelli probably hadn’t counted on having a Devil Dog at her table, and I made three trips to the buffet before I finally called quits.

It hadn’t escaped my attention that a couple of American girls were sitting at the table next to us. They’d been eye-fucking me every time I’d gone to get more food. Once I might have been interested, but why go out for burgers when you’ve got steak at home?

One of the girls was asking Signora Battelli questions about cooking pasta.

“But how much should I give guests at a meal?” she asked. “How will I know how much to buy back home?”

“Young woman,” said Signora Battelli, resting her pudgy hands on her enormous stomach. “You buy a half pound of fresh pasta per person … except for my son: he eats one pound of pasta!”

I wondered if the son was another fat fucker who ate all the pies. I could eat anything I wanted and I was in the best shape of my life. Going into a warzone was very fucking incentivizing.

But then the girls started flirting with me in front of Caro. I would have told them off, but I knew Caro wouldn’t like it. So I answered politely, tolerating but not encouraging them.

“I’ve never ridden a motor-sickle,” said the one called Lydia.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it when you get the chance,” I replied then stood up, having reached my limit of tolerance for their amateurish flirting. I held out my hand to Caro impatiently.

“Come on, baby.”

She took my hand, a huge smile on her face, and I couldn’t resist bringing her fingers to my lips and kissing the inside of her narrow wrist.

Her smile got even wider, and there was something in her eyes that I hadn’t seen before.

“What?” I asked, curious about what she was thinking.

“Sometimes you can be very sweet.”

Her words were like a punch in the gut and I couldn’t look away from her. Ask any of the guys that I’d trained with or fought with and ‘sweet’ is not a word they’d use to describe me. But to hear it from her for the first time in ten years, all the walls I’d built around me crumbled.

“Tesoro, what did I say?” she whispered, her forehead creasing with concern as I continued to stare at her.

I looked into her eyes, so she could see the truth of my words.

“I love you, Caro, so much. I haven’t changed how I feel. I still love you—I’ve always loved you. It’s only ever been you.”

I stopped breathing as she gazed back at me, her lips moving wordlessly. And then she spoke.

“I love you, too, Sebastian. More than you’ll ever know.”

That was all I needed to hear.

I leaned down and trapped her lips with mine, kissing her softly and sweetly because I wanted so badly to mash my mouth against hers, bruising her lips, showing the world that she was mine. Maybe that would come later, but now I needed to be the man she thought I was—the man I could be, for her.

I felt everything. I felt the moment when she let herself believe in me, in our fierce love that a decade apart hadn’t been able to kill; the moment she believed in herself, and everything that I knew she felt, too; and the moment that my heart knew I’d spend the rest of my life with this woman … this amazing, brave, fearless, loving woman.

“You mean everything to me, Caro,” I whispered, my voice raw with emotion.

I knew she could feel the weight of my words.

“You’re so brave, tesoro,” she said simply. “You’ve never been afraid to love.”

I smiled because she was so wrong. I was fucking terrified of loving her again—but I was past caring.

“That’s because I learned from you, Caro.”

She shook her head in denial.

“It’s true,” I said gently.

She sighed and pulled me a little tighter against her, and that was just fine with me.

We stood there until I became aware that we were the center of attention, the other diners staring at us, as well as Signora Battelli.

I rubbed Caro’s arm and stood up straight.

“I guess we’d better get going before the signora starts vacuuming around us,” I murmured, my lips still against the smooth skin of her neck.

She smiled up at me, her eyes so full of love that she cracked me wide open.

“Okay,” she said.

We walked back to our room in a silence that was full of meaning as I squeezed her soft hand, needing that small physical connection.

“I can’t stop smiling,” she confessed. “I think I’ve pulled a muscle in my mouth.”

“I know what you mean,” I laughed. “Although I’ve got some ideas about how you could do that for real later.”

She slapped my arm.

“You don’t change, do you, Hunter!”

I threw myself back on the bed and grinned up at her.

“Do you want me to change?” I asked, wondering for real what her answer would be.

Women always tried to change you, even when they said they wouldn’t. But Caro just laughed.

“Oh, you could do with a bit of polish here and there, but otherwise, no, you’ll do.”

“I’d like you to polish me right now,” I said, arching my hips off of the bed suggestively.

“Well, I’d love to oblige,” she smirked, “but Signora Battelli is going to be knocking on our door in about two minutes.”

“We could make it quick.”

“Oh no, I want to take my time.”

“How much time?” I asked as my dick hardened in my pants for the third time this morning.

Her dark eyes sparkled with humor and something else … desire?

“Hours, possibly days … whole months even,” she murmured, her eyes locked on mine.

I groaned and closed my eyes, images of her naked in my bed, eating meals off of her perfect, olive skin. “Months?”

“Years,” she said softly. “A lifetime.”

My eyes snapped open and I sat up quickly, my heart beating too fast. “Do you mean it, Caro, a lifetime?”

Her eyes were serious as she replied.

“Yes.”

I closed my eyes again, breathing in deeply. When I looked up, a huge smile stretched across my face.

“Okay,” I said, because the words I wanted to say were too big.

We packed up quickly, moving around the room with an easy familiarity that was new, touching each other as we passed, an outward expression of how we were feeling inside. I was glad that it wasn’t just me feeling so much anymore—or maybe that Caro felt confident enough to show how she felt now. Whatever—it was fucking wonderful.

I was definitely on a roll, so when I paid Signora Battelli, I may have gone a little overboard, saying it was the best place I’d ever stayed, and ended up kissing her hand.

Caro poked me in the ribs as we left.

“You are so smooth, Hunter!” she teased.

“I was just telling her the truth,” I grinned at her. “I think we should come back here, and book the same room every year—then spend the night fucking.”