“Jenna brought this bottle from Italy. The three of them went last year.” He took a slow sip from it and the air around us became heavier. “I told them the boy was too young to remember, but Jenna didn’t want to hear anything about it. She kept saying Lucas had to get to know where the Guidis came from.” He gave a faint chuckle and I noticed the light shaking of his hand. “I’m glad now that they went. It was their first, and last, real vacation as a family.”

Six years ago I’d have known what to say, but I’d become so closed-up over the years that my mouth stayed stupidly—frustratingly—shut. Cassie made her way over to Mr. Guidi. She knelt at his feet and slid her hand in his.

“Alfredo,” she murmured, “Alfredo.” He shook his head as if he were lost in another world. “I want to promise you something. When Lucas comes and lives with us, we’ll make sure he knows everything about his Italian heritage. Do you remember what Jenna cooked when I came over for Lucas’ fourth birthday?”

A broad smile broke across Mr. Guidi’s wrinkled face. “Penne Arrabiata. She got the recipe from her mom. And it had been passed down to my wife Anna from her mother.”

“I’d never tasted anything like that. Spicy and smoky at the same time—delicious. Would you do something for me?”

“Of course, my dear.”

“Would you share that secret recipe with me? I could practice a bit and then I could make it for our adoption celebration dinner.” Cassie struggled with boiling an egg. So a full recipe with ingredients, skill and tradition? I had my doubts.

But she didn’t seem to doubt herself. “It’ll be Penne Arrabiata alla Cassandra!”

“Bene!” Mr. Guidi raised his glass.

“And hopefully we’ll all survive lunch without food poisoning.” Cassie stood and kissed him on the cheek. Life gleamed again in Lucas’ grandfather’s eyes. He was already sitting up straighter in his chair.

I was so grateful to have this girl back in my life.

Minutes passed as the three of us eased into light small talk until Mr. Guidi slowly rose. I stood to help him. I’d come to like this old man very much.

“Thank you, Josh. I think it’s time for me to go to bed. Do you have everything you need?”

“We do,” Cassie answered. “Please, promise me you won’t wake up to say goodbye tomorrow morning. It’s far too early.”

“Someone needs to make you some real coffee. This husband of yours can only make dishwater. I want to see the two of you off anyway, so don’t even try to stop me.”

Cassie hugged him and I shook his hand. “I’ll keep working on my barista skills, Mr. Guidi.”

“Don’t worry, my boy. You can’t expect much more from a MacBride. Scots can’t make coffee or I’d have heard about it by now.”

We made it to our room and I flicked on the light. It was a small room and painted a shade of blue that must have been fashionable when the late Mrs. Guidi decorated it. Thirty years ago, at least. Everything was the same coral blue, from the frilly cushions against the bedpost to the fluffy rug.

“Alfredo looked really exhausted tonight.” Cassie put her toiletry kit on her bedside table.

I tried not to stare at her bare golden legs peeking out from under one of my Oxford shirts. It hung loosely around her and the few buttons she left open had me imagining what the curve of her breast would feel like. She turned toward me and I noticed a smudge of white at the corner of her mouth. I stepped closer to stand over her and wiped it away.

Pink colored her cheeks. “Please tell me I haven’t had ketchup all over my face since dinner.”

“Nope. Toothpaste.”

“Phew.” She kept staring up at me and the blush didn’t recede. The palm of my hand cradled her cheek and she slowly rested her face against it. Her skin was warm and soft, and so kissable.

I leaned forward, my eyes holding her baby blues. My lips were on hers before I could even think about kissing her. I fought for breath and my heartbeat quickened. She snuggled against me and lust burst inside me like fireworks against the Fourth-of-July midnight sky.

I lifted her by the ass and pulled her up to me as she wrapped her legs around my waist. In one stride, I lay her on the bed and pressed down on top of her, my hips grinding her warm body.

We both searched for air at the same time but my hands had a will of their own. One slid underneath her cotton panties to hold the firm muscles of her ass, the other cupped the back of her head so her face was tilted towards mine.

“You taste minty,” I whispered in her ear.

She answered with a throaty chuckle that was sexy as hell. “Is that supposed to make me all hot and bothered?”

I grazed at her earlobe with my mouth and followed down the line of her jaw. She trembled underneath me and I knew her words were all bravado.

“My bad, Mrs. MacBride. I’m a bit out of practice.”

I was starving for Cassie, but I wasn’t a teenager anymore. My lips moved from the corner of her mouth, down her neck. I stopped at the base and brushed against the small hollow, then down the valley between her breasts. I gave tiny bites to her nipples through the material of the shirt. She whimpered and I lost control.

My fingers moved along her hipbone. I’d always loved its curve. I started kissing her again, this time my tongue hunted for hers. I sucked at it. Once. Twice. Each time triggering a thrust from her hips. There was nothing left of the fumbling. This wasn’t our clumsy first time at Sweet Angel Point. Or the spur-of-the-moment sex we had back in Oxford. It’d blown my mind, but it had also been wrong in so many ways.

The memory pierced my heart and punched at my libido. I tore myself from Cassie, my fingers, my lips. I rolled onto my side and lay on my back. I stared at the ceiling while the movements of my chest betrayed the turmoil inside.

“What the hell?” Cassie sounded pissed-off. “I’ve been trying to cool you down all week and now, when we’re about to commit the deed… you back off.”

“I’m sorry.”

Silence filled the tiny space between us until she turned sideways with her head resting on her crooked arm. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” I shot back. I moved so that I faced her, our mouths a few inches apart.

“So why’d you stop?” She sounded like a little girl whose favorite toy had been taken by the playground bully. I was out of my fucking mind to deny us what we’d been dancing around since we got back together less than a week ago.

“I don’t think we’re ready yet.”

Cassie crossed her hands over her chest and curled her legs underneath her. “How so? Because from where I stood—or laid—you felt very ready.”

“I’m totally up for going at it all night, Cass. But this isn’t about that.” I extended my hand and rested it on her stomach above her scar. The scar left by the C-section.

“What is it about then?”

“I want it to be our first time all over again.”

A wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows but there was a smile in her voice when she asked, “Then why didn’t you jump me when we got back together at Sweet Angel Point?”

“I’m serious, Cass. I’ve been drooling like a puppy dog all week waiting for you to give me the green light. But I don’t want what we had in Oxford. I want making love to be about our future. I want it to be about being married and committed to each other.”

Cassie bit on her lower lip and avoided my eyes. “I thought you were committed to me. Back under the cotton tree, you said it was the real deal this time, that this was our second chance. Have you changed your mind?”

My hand flew to her face, my thumb underneath her moist eyelids. “I’ll never go back on my word and I’ve never meant anything other than what I said to you that day. It meant even more to me than when I said ‘I do’ in front of God and Reverend Beasley.”

Her body relaxed against me. “Sometimes you talk like a chick, you know.”