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"It's weird, right?"
Shaking his gorgeous head, he grins. "Not weird. Amazing."
"It's kind of scary, though." Even more terrifying is how fast the minutes are counting down until I have to tell him good-bye.
"We need to get a taxi to catch up to the group if we don't want to miss this afternoon's tour." Dylan stands beside the café table and I don't know how he got here without me noticing his approach.
Dylan is nearly as big as Rio and not a silent guy.
"Yeah. You need to stop mooning over the pretty Sicilian and get a move on, Tanzi." Joni's commiserating grimace takes the sting out of her words.
A fist of panic squeezes my heart.
This reaction is ridiculous, but I can't ignore the sense of dread skating up my spine at the thought of never seeing Rio again.
He smiles, relaxed and confident. "I am happy to continue in the role of tour guide and I believe my Mercedes will be a more comfortable ride than a tour bus."
"Only if one of us drives." Joni crosses her arms, her expression set in stubborn lines.
That's my friend. She's taken classes at my dad's school of caution.
No way will Rio agree to that, though. And no matter how desperately I want to stay with him for just a few more hours, I can't. Not without my friends.
Rio fishes in his pocket and then hands a key fob to Joni. "Have at."
He offers his hand to help me from my chair. Which I’m totally capable of doing on my own, but I take his hand anyway.
Pulling me up, he leans down and whispers. "Please tell me she's at least a passable driver."
"Joni's a great driver." Not that she's gotten to do much of it this trip. "Are you worried about your car?"
"No, but your safety is paramount to me."
Warmth spreads through my insides.
His car is parked only a couple of blocks away. Joni points toward it with the fob and presses the unlock.
She opens the door and slips into the driver's seat, giving Dylan a superior look. "Not all men are such Neanderthals they think women are lesser drivers."
"I don't think you are a bad driver," Dylan defends himself. "I just feel better when I'm the one behind the wheel. It's got nothing to do with you being female."
"I didn't see you insisting on driving when it was Rio offering to take us around."
"Unlike you, I'm not going to demand someone give mehiscar keys."
I slide into the backseat to the sound of their good-natured bickering. I'm used to it.
Rio shocks me by taking the other side of the back seat and leaving the front passenger seat for Dylan.
"Wouldn't you be more comfortable in front?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "Not unless you're the one driving."
"I hate driving." Especially in New York.
Though I doubt I'd like it any better here. The streets in Palermo are narrow and packed with cars and pedestrians.
We buckle our seatbelts and Rio takes my hand in his, lacing our fingers. "What's on the tour for this afternoon?"
