Page 28 of Cara & Gian: The Guzzi Duet

“I have a meeting with your uncle and cousin. I’m a bit early—better that than late, I suppose. I figured I would get a drink while I wait, and here you are.”

Under the specialty lights of the restaurant’s bar, Cara’s red hair seemed darker. Her blue eyes surveyed him with barely-hidden interest, and curiosity. Gian had the strangest urge to reach out and tug on one of the curls, to feel the softness under his fingertips, but he managed to hold back. Somehow.

“My uncle had a server that took sick, and his back up is gone for the week on vacation. I happen to know how to mix drinks,” Cara explained. “Plus, my aunt thinks if someone doesn’t force me out of the apartment every once in a while, I will likely die in there.”

Gian chose not to comment on the second part of her statement, instead focusing on the first. “Yet, you don’t drink them.”

“A dichotomy, I’m aware.”

“In a way,” Gian agreed.

Cara reached for the bottle behind the bar, and a clean glass to go along with it. She poured Gian’s drink with a smile that he returned.

Soon, her smile faded.

“I’m sorry about your grandfather,” she said quietly.

Gian let out a sigh. “Thanks.”

“The funeral was a couple of days ago, right?”

“It was. I didn’t see you there.”

Cara shrugged as she slid the drink across the counter. “Don’t take offense, but I try to stay away from family business, you know.”

“So you told me in bed.”

At the mention of their hookup, Cara’s cheeks flooded with a pretty red. It wasn’t quite the same shade as her hair, but it was damn close.

Gian chuckled. “How—after that—can you be shy with me?”

She shot him a look, her lips curving with amusement. “A gift, I guess.”

“Well, speaking of that night,” Gian started to say, reaching for an item he had in his pocket. “I have something for you.”

Cara’s brow lifted. “Oh?”

“You forgot it. Or I broke it and you probably didn’t think much about it after that.”

Gian pulled the thin, double-wrapped choker with a small bow from his pocket. He had taken it to a jeweller to have the velvet fixed, and the small piece of the chain that had broken repaired as well.

“Here,” he said, holding it out and letting it dangle on two fingers. “Ready for you to wear again.”

Carefully, Cara plucked the item from his grasp. “You didn’t have to—”

“Of course, I did. I broke it; it’s only right that I fix it.”

“It’s just a cheap necklace, Gian.”

“Maybe. I liked the way it looked around your throat. I might like to see it on you another time.”

All over again, Cara’s cheeks reddened.

“Huh,” she said quietly.

“You do still owe me coffee, mon ange.”

“I figured you would have forgotten about that by now,” she admitted, glancing up at him.