let actions speak louder than words.” She leaned over and kissed him.
Thoroughly.
Only after a passing car offered a quick honk of encouragement and the driver shouted “Viva amore!” did she back off with a soft flush.
“Whoops. I keep forgetting there are other people in the world—and you may take that as a compliment.” The corners of her mouth rose, and she traced a finger along the line of his jaw.
“I shall.” He captured her hand in his. “But if you keep that up, I’ll be tempted to thank you in ways not suitable for public consumption.”
She waggled her eyebrows. “In that case—why don’t we find a nice, secluded spot to enjoy the picnic lunch the inn packed?”
“Secluded is perfect—and I am hungry.” He winked at her.
“You’ve turned into a real flirt, you know that?”
“Complaining?”
“Nope.” She gave a saucy toss of her head and mounted her bike. “First one who finds a spot for a picnic gets a prize.”
Pushing off, she pedaled down the road.
Brent gave her a head start, more for his benefit than hers. What a joy to watch her so happy and carefree and healthy after all she’d been through. It had taken months for her stamina to recover after the shooting—and she still struggled with nightmares, as he’d learned this past week.
But Olivia was gone, along with the basement control center that had launched countless attacks nationwide—and while the infamous Al had recovered from his wounds, he was facing a very long prison sentence.
That threat was over.
As for any new challenges that lay ahead—he’d be by her side through those too.
A spot he intended to occupy all the days of his life.
For the Scripture passage read at their wedding summed up his feelings to a T. The value of a worthy wife was far beyond jewels.
And as he pushed off to follow her toward a line of tall, stately poplars in the distance, he gave thanks for the unexpected happy ending that had graced his life and filled all the dark places with the light of love.
“Do you want another grape?” Eve dangled a cluster in front of her husband.
Husband.
Still hard to believe, even though they were halfway through their two-week honeymoon.
How on earth had she lucked out and found a guy like Brent?
Or maybe luck had nothing to do with it. Maybe a greater hand had been at work.
“Nope.” He stretched out on his side beside her, propped himself up with his elbow on the picnic blanket, and played with her hair. “I want my prize. I found this spot, didn’t I?” He swept a hand around them.
She felt around in the picnic basket, withdrew a biscotti, and held it up.
“Uh-uh. I want something softer and sweeter.”
She reached for the basket again. “I think there’s a piece of that pine nut cake you liked at dinner last—”
He grabbed her hand. “I can think of a much better prize.”
A tingle of excitement spiraled through her at the ardor in his eyes. “Like what?”
“Like this.” He brushed her hair aside, leaned close, and pressed a kiss behind her ear.
Whew.
“You do realize . . .” Her voice squeaked, and she cleared her throat. “You do realize we’re outside. Anyone could happen by and find us in a clinch.”
“So? This is Italy. You heard the man a few minutes ago. Viva amore. I think the locals would approve of a few passionate kisses in a romantic setting like this.” He nuzzled her neck again.
Eve checked out their picnic spot. They were surrounded by the ruins of an old stone barn, nothing but open fields of bobbing poppies around them over the low walls that remained and a cloudless, cobalt-blue sky overhead. There hadn’t been a single house on the dirt track that had led to this hilltop, which boasted a stunning view.
She shifted toward him. “I’m in.” She snuggled closer to him. “For the record, I wouldn’t let just any guy talk me into heavy-duty kissing in public.”
“I should hope not.”
She gave him a playful swat. “I mean it would take a very special man to convince me to be this bold.” She touched his cheek and softened her voice. “Someone I’d trust with my life—and my heart.”
A sudden, faint sheen shimmered in Brent’s eyes. “I wish I had your skill with words.”
“Your words are fine—and your actions are eloquent.”
“You’re being kind.”
“Nope. Honest.”
“Trust me, I know my limitations—and I’m not great with words. That’s your forte. I’m always afraid I’ll disappoint you.”
His earnestness tightened her throat. “You could never disappoint