didn’t tell me it was his birthday.”
Carlotta shakes her head. “He can be really private sometimes. And he’s been weird about his birthday ever since…well…” She waves her hand. “It’s my fault. It’s always the mother’s fault.”
“Oh, but you two seem to get on brilliantly,” I reply, touching her arm gently. “One of the first things he talked to me about was your annual trips.”
“Really?”
“Yes!” I say excitedly. “He has lovely things to say about you. All of you, honestly.”
Her lips pull back with a surprised smile. “That is really nice to hear.” She leans in close and holds my hand in hers. “You’re good for him, Tilly. I can tell. He’s happy with you, and that’s saying a lot for my son.”
My heart swells. “Well, I’m very happy with him, too.”
She stares over my shoulder at Santino. “On the outside, he’s a bit hard around the edges, but that heart of his…when he opens it fully…it will be worth the wait, I promise you, darling. Just be patient with him.”
A warm smile creeps across my face as the memory of him in my bedroom telling me that he’d fallen in love with me flashes through my mind. “I’ve actually seen his heart already. He didn’t make me wait that long.” I laugh and cover my cheeks.
“Is that true?” Carlotta’s lips thin, and the look in her eyes is unmistakable.
Doubt.
The smile on my face fades as the doubt on her face turns into something else. Something I can’t read. I’m about to ask her why she doesn’t believe me when she looks over my shoulder and plasters on a grin.
“Are you ready?” Santino’s deep voice interrupts, and I turn to see him standing behind me with a blanket and a basket in hand. He reaches out to pull me up out of the seat. “We need to get going if we want to catch the sunset.”
I swallow the knot in my throat and nod woodenly, my mind whirling with confusion as Carlotta stands up to hug her son. “You will say goodbye before you head back to the city in the morning?” she asks, like she didn’t just drop a bomb on my inner narrative. “And you’re sure you want to stay at the hotel?”
“Yes, Mamma. We’ll drop by in the morning.”
Santino kisses her on the cheek and steps back so she can hug me. I can’t tell if the trembling is coming from her or me, so I try to shake off the bizarre sensation coursing through my veins and tell myself I’m being silly right now. I plant a smile on my face and hope it looks genuine. The problem is that it was a lot easier just a few seconds ago.
Our drive in the Mini Cooper is gorgeous. The autumn air is crisp, the October sun is warm, and the rolling English hills are stunning. With that said, it’s hard to fully appreciate them because I’m busy trying to figure out if that doubt I saw on Carlotta’s face was real or a figment of my imagination.
I’m in the passenger seat having a wee freak-out. Meanwhile, Santino is in the driver’s seat of a classic car, looking like a sexy Italian god. He’s wearing expensive sunglasses, and the wind is whipping through his dark hair like he’s shooting a cologne advertisement.
I know he might be holding back from me, but as he caresses my hand on his lap, there is no doubt in my mind that he loves me. He must. I can’t be that delusional.
But…he didn’t tell me about his birthday…and I know there have been moments when he’s wanted to share other things with me, but we’ve always been interrupted. I should have followed up by now, but we’ve been busy being happy, and I was just trying to live in the moment a bit.
Perhaps that’s what this trip was all about. Maybe he’s going to open up when we’re alone this evening. Maybe he’s going to bare his heart to me, and that peculiar expression his mother gave me will all make sense afterwards.
“There’s a trail out here that I used to bike on as a child,” he tells me, his voice warm as he lifts my hand up to his lips for a quick kiss.
“Bike or race?” I give his leg a cheeky squeeze and try to lighten my mood a bit.
He glances at me and lifts his brows behind his sunglasses. “Nonna forced me to bring more food, so if you’re going