The Turning Point (15 page)

T
he bathroom door clicked shut and a moment later I heard the shower come on. I let out a long breath and bit my smile, throwing the covers over my head. Inside, I was leaping for joy.

Hidden away in my cocoon, flashes of Lucas and his brilliant tongue cycled through my brain. He went down on me twice but refused to let me do anything to him, insisting last night was about me, a chance to memorize more of my little quirks and a way to prove I was different from the others.

I’d say he proved it…and then some. A giggle bubbled up from my chest, followed by the condescending voice of my responsible side.

God, what are you doing? Yeah, he’s sticking around for now. But once you tell him about the Huntington’s, he’ll leave you, just like he did the others. No one deserves to be burdened with someone who’s going to die.

Guilt sliced through my afterglow like a hot knife through butter. It wasn’t fair. Lucas deserved to know what he was getting by being involved with me. Not to mention our time together was dwindling. In two weeks, I’d go back to St. Louis, and Lucas wouldn’t.

That’s right, yet another reason why you shouldn’t get attached.

Yeah, another reason. But when it came to matters of the heart, reason took a leave of absence. Lucas had already taken up residence. The hard part would be evicting him before Huntington’s took over my body.

“Boo!” he shouted, pulling the covers away from my face.

“Ahhh!” I jumped. “You scared me!”

Laughing, Lucas straddled me, pinned my shoulders to the bed, and started shaking his wet hair in my face.

“Stop!” I yelled, laughing, tossing my head side to side. “Stop it!”

“Oh, come on, I like it when you’re wet,” he joked, leaning down to kiss the spot right below my ear.

I sighed and relaxed into the pillow, my hands roaming over the hard muscles of his damp chest. “You’ve got a dirty mind.”

“I can’t wait to show you how dirty.” Nibbling my earlobe, he blew out a hot breath. Pulling the covers away from my body, his fingers slinked their way south.

I put a hand on his. “Nuh-uh, San Diego. I need a shower.”

He stopped his thorough study of my neck’s geography and popped his head up. “Mind if I join you?”

I cocked my head and smirked. “You already showered.”

“Doesn’t matter. I told you, I like it when you’re wet.”

“Ugh! Let me up!” I pushed on his chest and he rolled away with a groan.

Freeing my legs from the blankets, my feet hit the floor. Standing, I stretched, the hem of my shirt riding up over my panties. Lucas watched with shameless lust.

Harnessing my inner vixen, I swayed my hips toward the bathroom, and right before I disappeared around the corner, I crooked my finger in his direction. “Okay, dirty boy, you can keep me company in the shower, but only”—I held up my finger in warning—“if I’m the one doing the washing.” Last night, he had all the fun—okay, not
all
the fun—but now it was mine turn to catalogue his quirks.

And faster than a lightning strike, Lucas hurdled the queen-size bed.

“This is a sorry excuse for a beach,” Lucas said, snapping his towel out onto the black volcanic shoreline.

The Mariana Grande wasn’t so much a beach as it was a small patch of coast designated for swimming. Sorrento’s rocky shoreline didn’t make for the best beach getaways. But I was content with plopping my towel down. For me, all a beach needed was sun, salt water, and waves lapping at the shore. I’d take the beach any way I could get it.

“Well, aren’t you a beach snob.” I made a face and stuck my tongue out.

Lucas got right in my face and sucked my tongue into his mouth, kissing me deeply. “Fuck, yeah,” he growled.

“Hmm…,” I hummed, taken completely off guard. “What was that for?”

Pulling away slightly, Lucas cocked a devilish grin. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first time you stuck out your tongue.”

“Oh, really? And you remember the first time I did that?”

“The day we had espresso. You took one sip, stuck out that exquisite tongue of yours, and drove me mad.”

My jaw dropped. I was utterly gobsmacked. How he remembered something so inconsequential was beyond me.

“I told you”—he tapped his temple—“every little thing you do goes right up here.”

I smiled at that thought, but Old Sophia brandished the guilt-knife, slicing open a new cut. All the little things Lucas was storing, his “Sophia quirks,” they weren’t really me. It was Sophia Italia he was taking note of…the Sophia that pressed pause on the life she didn’t want to face at home and picked up a new one in a land far, far away.

I took a deep breath and tried to forget about how wretched it was going to be when I had to set Lucas free. “I drive you mad?”

Tossing his head back, Lucas groaned. “Out of my fucking skull.” He pinched my sides, making me squeal. “Now, do I get to see this swimsuit you’ve kept hidden, or what?”

Grabbing the bottom of my cover-up, I pulled it over my head, revealing the bikini my mom had bought me. The one I had said wouldn’t be making an appearance. Well, I lied. Apparently, Mom knew the girls would need to be dressed up at some point.

Lucas’s eyes dropped to my chest. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but he uttered no words. Now it was his turn to be speechless.

The girls were showcased well in black and white polka dots. A decorative buckle—at the center of my chest, just below my breasts—held the skimpy top together, while a contrasting strip of alternating black and white stripes ran just underneath the girls, giving them some added lift.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pleased with the reaction it got out of Lucas. I dropped my shorts, and now almost nothing was left to the imagination.

I could hear Old Sophia ranting on the inside, but Sophia Italia cheered louder.

I shimmied my hips. “Well?”

“Fuck, Sophia,” he half whispered, half groaned. “Are you trying to kill me? How am I supposed to keep my hands off you when you’re sporting that?” He moved his hand up and down in reference to my body.

“So you like it?”

Stepping closer, he smoothed his hands over my hips and across my backside. With his body flush against mine, he rasped in my ear, “I’m so fucking hard right now, if I turn around, every person on this beach will know how much I like your suit.” To punctuate his statement, he thrust his lower half against me.

Um…hello, sir!

I looked around at all the people milling about. “What are you going to do?” I bit the corner of my lip.

“I thought you might give me a hand.” He winked.

“Here? With all these people? I never knew you were an exhibitionist.”

The fun-loving Lucas I met in Pompeii had turned into a sex fiend in Sorrento. And we hadn’t even had sex yet.

I enjoyed this sexy, playful side. His carefree, easygoing attitude toward the physical turn our relationship had taken made me more relaxed.

Screw plans. I’ll take spontaneity for a thousand, Alex!

I waggled my eyebrows. “Care for a swim?”

“I’d love one,” he crooned.

With Lucas at my back, we made a mad dash to the water, wading to a semi-secluded spot near one of the platforms that jutted into the bay. The water was tepid, bathlike and glorious; it lapped right at our chests, hiding us from prying eyes.

Lucas put his hand at my shoulders and turned me around to face him, wrapping his arms around my waist. He was still rigid beneath his shorts.

“I take it back,” he said, rubbing small circles on my back.

“What?”

“This beach. It’s growing on me. But I promise you, I’m going to show you what a real beach looks like one day. I’d love to get you up on a board.”

“I’d like that.”

Lucas regarded me as if I were the most precious, delicate flower he’d ever seen. Butterflies came alive in my stomach. Tilting his head, he kissed me tenderly, savoring the feel of our lips.

As our mouths tangled together, I looped my arms around his neck and fixed my legs at his waist. The ebb and flow of the ocean rocked our bodies together.

He was
right there
…pressed exactly where I wanted him, and my body trembled with need. I’d always felt connected to him, and I longed to make that connection real.

We were a perfect fit.

I ran my hand down his back, brushing over the elastic of his swim shorts. Working my fingers beneath the waistband, I smoothed my hand over his backside…his outer thigh…

“Fuck, Sophia,” he groaned.

My hand skimmed over the top of his leg…then…
him
.

His mouth was demanding, urgent, kissing me like I was all he needed to live. He sucked in a breath as I wrapped my hand around his shaft. “Fuck…”

I moved my hand over him in the rhythmic way I’d done this morning, in the shower. With each stroke, my confidence grew—as did he.

Touching him, kissing him, the call of the ocean, the fact that we were doing something so private in a not-so-private place went to my head. I loved the sounds I coaxed from him with each stroke.

“I’m going to come,” he rasped.

I sucked his tongue in my mouth, kissed him harder, and let my hand have some fun.

His arms trembled, struggling to keep a hold of me as he found his release. His head dropped to my shoulder and he ground out a long, gruff, “Jesus.”

Withdrawing my hand from his shorts, I wrapped it back around his neck, clasping my hands together to hold myself to him. His shoulders heaved as he came down.

Lifting his head, his eyes were hooded and he had a dreamy, far-off look on his face. “You are entirely too good at that.”

I grinned widely, drunk on the power my inner sex kitten possessed. “Why thank you.” Unclasping my fingers, I slowly slid down his body, until my feet touched the gravelly bottom. “Now that I’ve helped you with your problem, it’s time to swim, San Diego. Race you to the other side!” I yelled, lifting my hands above my head. With my knees bent, I dove into the sterling blue water, leaving Lucas gaping in my wake.

L
ucas brushed a hand across my shoulders. “You soaked up some rays today, baby.”

I glanced down. Sure enough, my shoulders were burned. Not an angry red, but a pink that suggested I hadn’t been very smart about reapplying my sunscreen. Usually I didn’t burn, but I wasn’t ever outside long enough for the sun to do any damage. But today, Lucas and I had spent the whole day in the sun.

As much as I’ve loved visiting museums, taking in the ancient architecture, and wandering fallen cities, today—the beach—had been my most favorite. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d laughed so much. Splashing, swimming, kissing, cuddling on the beach, today was a day I’d never forget.

Holding my hand over my shoulder, I assessed the heat radiating off my skin, gauging the severity of the burn. “It isn’t too bad.” I shrugged. “I’ll be all right.”

I finished the last swallow of my white wine and leaned back in my chair. The outdoor café was the perfect ending to our day at the beach. The food was excellent, and the sea breeze rolling in off the bay took my breath away. “I don’t know about you,” I sighed, “but this is my kind of paradise.” I closed my eyes and let the salt air, the warmth of my sun-kissed skin, hushed conversations, and distant music soak into my soul.

Lucas laid his hand on mine. I opened my eyes, and they settled on his. “I’m looking at paradise.”

I rolled my eyes. “You and your cheesy-ass lines. You’re such a dork.”

“I live in an ocean town, sweetheart. The only thing that gets me amped about the beach anymore is my board and some killer waves. But paradise? I’m looking at it. I’ve experienced paradise at Pompeii, at a McDonald’s, in our hotel room, and here. When I get you to San Diego, then I’ll have paradise there, too.”

My stomach fluttered, his voice setting the butterflies in motion. “You want me to come to San Diego?”

“Hell yeah, I do. When I said you were different, Sophia, I meant it. I know it won’t be easy when we leave Italy. You have school starting and Dean and I have a lot to catch up on, but we’ll work something out. It doesn’t end here for me, Soph.”

“Me neither.” I clutched his hand, a lifeline.

What have you done, Sophia? You’re going to end up hurting him,
the ugly voice in my head reprimanded. A gust of wind blew between us, flapping the sides of the umbrella over our table as an icy chill spread over my arms and down my back. Goose bumps prickled my skin, and my paradise suddenly turned cold.

I didn’t want to hurt Lucas, but by allowing him to get involved with me, I already had.

“Aiuto! Aiuto!”
someone screamed.

A few tables away, a lady stood up from her seat, knocking over her chair, hands raised above her head.
“Ho bisogno di aiuto! Mia bambina!”

“What’s going on over there?” Lucas said, pushing his chair back.

I stood, trying to get a better look at what was happening. “I don’t know. What is she saying?”

“I think she needs help.”

I moved to the side to see around the table next to me. The frantic woman clutched a child in her hands. “I think something’s wrong with her kid.” I took off in their direction.

When I came to the lady’s table, the little girl in her arms clutched at her throat and was turning very red in the face. She was choking.

Instinct kicked in. My CPR and first-aid training had prepared me well to deal with a situation like this. I tapped the mother on her shoulder. “I can help.” I prayed the language barrier wouldn’t be a problem.

I patted my chest and said, “Help,” again.

“Sí! Sí!”
the lady cried.

That was all the permission I needed. I took the little girl from her mother’s arms and stood her on the back of the chair, pressing her back against my stomach. “It’s okay, I’m going to help,” I said reassuringly to the girl.

I made a fist, with my right hand, the lower knuckle of my thumb pressing right above her naval. Wrapping my left hand over my right, I delivered a quick upward thrust to the girl’s abdomen.

Nothing happened.

I pushed again. And again. And once more.

Something small, round, and dark green fell from her mouth. An olive. She probably choked on the pit.

The little girl drew in a huge gulp of air.

Crying, her mother scooped her off the chair. The girl wrapped her arms around her mom and bawled.
“Grazie! Grazie!”
The mother bellowed, tears streaming down her face.

As much as I hated to cry, I couldn’t help the tears that sprang to my eyes. “
Prego
. I’m glad she’s okay.”

The mother collapsed into her seat, holding on to the little girl so tightly. I took a few steps backward, letting them have their moment, now that the danger had passed.

As I took in the scene, every diner was up from his or her seat, gawking at what had just happened. Then one by one, the café filled with applause.

An overwhelming sense of satisfaction washed over me. Not because of the gracious crowd, but because of what I’d done for that little girl. She was why I wanted to go into medicine. I wanted to make a difference in people’s lives. I wanted to save lives. Save families from being torn apart.

I wanted to make a difference in the world, and holy shit, I just had.

“You. Are. Incredible,” Lucas whispered in my ear. His hand swept around my waist, and I relaxed against him.

“You saved that girl’s life.”

“I’m just glad I was able to help.” I let out a long breath, my heartbeat thumping loudly in my ears. Ah, the effects of an adrenaline rush, truly a magnificent hormone.

“Excuse me, sir,” Lucas said as a waiter passed by. “Will you please put their check with mine?”

I turned around. Lucas was pointing at the woman and child.

“
Sí, signore
. I will tell your server,” the waiter said.

“Grazie.”

As the waiter left and the commotion at the other tables died down, Lucas and I returned to our table. “You’re pretty incredible, too. You know that, right?”

My heart swelled. It took a special man, a kind, considerate, and loving man, to help a person in need.

Lucas shrugged, like it was no big deal. “It’s the right thing to do. She’s had enough to worry about tonight. It was nothing compared to what you did.” He took my hand in his and kissed the center of my palm.

I smiled sweetly. “It was the right thing to do.”

“Mint chocolate chip,
per favore
.” I watched the vendor scoop the gelato from the tub, his technique identical to the one Nonna taught me so many years ago.

With the gelato spatula in hand, the vendor scraped along the top of the tub, careful not to dig into the tub—that’s a no-no. Then, sliding the spatula downward against the side of the cup, my pale green (not bright green, that’s bad too) mint chocolate chip gelato was piled high and ready for consumption.

“Mint chocolate chip,” the man said, passing it over the counter.

“Grazie.”
I lifted the cup from his hand.

“And for you,
signore
?” The man turned his attention to Lucas.

“Vanilla,
per favore
.”

As I dug through my purse to pay for the gelato, Lucas put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, paying?”

“No, you’re not.” He shook his head.

Giving him a sidelong glance, I replied, “Yes, I am. I don’t usually pitch a fit when you offer to pay for something, but tonight’s dessert is my treat.” Especially after he’d just paid for our meal and the other family’s meal, the least I could do was buy a couple dishes of gelato. Besides, this trip was on Daddy’s dime; with Lucas around, he was getting off cheap.

“Vanilla,
signore
.” Again, he passed the dish over the counter.

Lucas thanked him, took the dish, and wrinkled his nose at me. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that, right?”

“Uh-uh.” I shook my head. “I’m a
royal
pain in the ass.”

Pulling a handful of euros from my purse, I settled the tab, and Lucas and I headed for the door, gelatos in hand.

Lucas knocked his elbow against my arm. “I didn’t know I was in the presence of royalty.”

“Oh, yes,” I sang. “Wait until you meet my nonna. She refers to me as
Principessa
. My mom usually adds the ‘pain in the ass’ part.”

“Then I offer my deepest apologies. I did not mean to offend,
Principessa
Pain in the Ass.”

With a mouthful of gelato, I waved my spoon to object.
“Principessa Patatina,”
I mumbled.

“Okay, my Italian isn’t that good, but did you just say ‘Princess Potato’?”

I crinkled my nose and plastered on a closed mouth grin. “My mom calls me
Patatina
.”

“Why on earth would you mother call you Potato?”

“It’s actually a pretty common nickname given to Italian little girls. My mom, with her warped sense of humor, thought it was hysterical, so she stuck me with it.”

“So you are ‘Her Royal Highness, Princess Potato, Pain in the Ass.’”

“Wrong again.” I shook my head and took another bite. “It’s ‘Her Royal Highness, Princess Potato Linebacker, Pain in the Ass.’”

Lucas nodded. “Yes, how could I forget.” Taking a quick bit of gelato, he added, “Your mom and nonna sound awesome. I can’t wait to meet them.”

“Oh, goodness!” I laughed, nearly choking on the spoonful of ice cream in my mouth. “Be prepared. Knowing my mom, she’ll hand you a box of condoms and pat you on the back. And she’s a devout Catholic.”

“The protective type, huh?” He smirked.

“Yeah. Or thrilled by the prospect that I would be doing something other than schoolwork.”

“Sounds like my kind of lady.”

“Mmm-hmm. I’m sure.” I licked a heap of gelato off my spoon as goose bumps prickled across my skin. The temperature had cooled off, leaving the night air a little chilly. I shivered when a stiff breeze flapped the bottom of my gauzy sundress. My sunburned skin didn’t help matters either.

“What about your dad? Are you close?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “My dad’s the most stand-up guy I’ve ever met. I can only hope to be as honorable as him.”

I could see the reverence on Lucas’s face as he thought about his father. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

Lucas looked over at me, pointing with his spoon. “He will love you.”

My first thought was to ask if his dad had loved Julia, too, but then I didn’t want to taint our perfect day by bringing up her name.

Nearing our hotel, Lucas and I walked in silence for a minute, savoring the last few bites of our dessert.

“Thank you for today,” I said.

Lucas turned and looked at me, a heart-stopping smile blooming across his face. “Hold up,” he said, coming to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk.

“What?”

With a soft touch, Lucas ran a hand through my seawater-tangled, frizzy hair. “I want to record this moment. Store this memory for later.”

“A day befitting a romance novel. I understand why.”

“No, that’s not why.” He smiled wider. How was that possible? “Because you’ve got gelato running down your chin, and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.”

“What?” I slapped a hand over my mouth. Sure enough, sticky ice cream smeared from my chin to my palm. I elbowed Lucas. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just did,” he laughed, throwing his hands up as a shield from my pointy elbows.

I flapped my fingers impatiently. “Give me a napkin.”

“I don’t have any.”

“Ugh! You’re no help.” I wiped the mess from my chin the best I could. Lucas continued to chuckle beside me. “You think this is funny?”
Oh, I’ll give you funny, San Diego.

I dipped my finger into his dish, wrapping it in a nice coating of melted vanilla gelato, then wiped it down the side of his face.

His eyes went wide. “Look out, Princess Potato, I’m the one who’s doing the tackling now.” A sinful, panty-dropping smile turned up the left side of his mouth.

“Only if you can catch me!” I yelled, and took off running toward the hotel.

“Game on, sweetheart!” he growled.