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EMILY
If there’sone place that I would call hell, it would be baggage carousel number six at Naples-Capodichino Airport.
Especially when your flight arrived two hours later than it was supposed to, and it feels like the air conditioning in the entire airport is broken.
Heck, there’s not even a single fan on!
“Sorry, I mean—scusa! Scusa!” I say as I push myself through the large crowd heading in the same direction as me while doing my best to ignore their annoyed eye rolls.
Isscusathe right word? I should’ve paid more attention to that YouTube language guide.
Whatever, it’s already too late for that. I need to hurry if I want to check into the hotel in time to do my last-minute maid-of-honor duties for my best friend Nadia’s bachelorette party.
I pick up the pace, ducking low to avoid a large backpack suddenly swinging in my direction from a couple of guys talking excitedly about their hiking trip to Mt. Vesuvius.
… and come to an abrupt stop when I collide with something right in front of the carousel.
No, scratch that.
Someone.
“Oof!” the sound bounces out of my mouth as I slip and fall to the ground.
“Are you alright?” A lightly accented voice—deep and crisp—rumbles in my ear.
A massive hand extends out to help me. I look up, and feel my heart skip a beat.
Oh my.
He has to be the hottest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of being face to face with. I sit there on the ground, and crane my neck up to gawk awkwardly at him.
His mahogany hair is thick on top, textured with a fade that tapers toward his long, tan neck, the perfect complements to his ice-blue eyes.
The gray slacks and sienna dress shirt can’t hide his powerful muscles. There’s a lopsided smile on his face that makes the tiny mole below his right eye shift upward. My eyes are drawn to his lips—soft and full. For a single reckless moment, I want to confirm my hypothesis.
It takes me a moment to realize that I’m staring, and another moment for me to take hold of his offered hand.
A searing warmth instantly rushes through me upon touching his skin, piercing me all the way down to my core, where adelicious fire is stoked between my legs. The heat grows as he pulls me effortlessly off the ground like I’m weightless.
“Sorry, I’m in a hurry and I should’ve looked where I’m going and?—”
“It’s alright.” He interrupts me, the smile never leaving his face. “First time in Naples?”
“First time in Italy, actually,” I laugh nervously.Ugh! His voice is like ear chocolate.“And wouldn’t you know it, I’m already running late.”
“That would mean you’re actually early,” he replies. “By Italian standards, of course.”
“Unfortunately.” I spread my hands. “The maid of honor can’t be late.”
“Destination wedding?”
“Bachelorette party, actually.” I correct him, and then in another reckless moment, I add. “In the Amalfi Coast.”
“A lucky coincidence,” he muses. “I’m actually headed there myself.”
“Really? For what?” I ask as I scan the carousel, searching for the familiar bright pink Hello Kitty bag tag on my bag handle. “Destination wedding?”
