She laughed.
They ate dinner and she sipped her wine, which was delicious.
“Now that we’ve established you’ve been locked in the States your entire life, tell me your wish list for travel,” Garrett asked as they ate their salads.
She lifted her gaze to his. “Italy is definitely on my list. My maternal grandparents were from Sicily. I’d love to go there someday.”
“Italy’s nice.”
“You’ve been there?”
“Rome and Milan. Beautiful cities.”
“I’m jealous. Where else have you been?”
He shook his head. “We’re still on your wish list.”
“Oh, okay.” She dabbed her lips with the napkin and thought about it. “England, France, Scotland, Ireland, any and all of the Caribbean islands, Hawaii—though I know that’s in the US, but I’ve never been to any of the islands. I suppose you’ve been to all of them.”
“I’ve never been to the big island. I’ve heard it’s great.”
“Tell me all the places you’ve been.”
“I’ve been to a few places.”
Her fork balanced at the tip of her lips. “Go on.”
He shrugged. “Some spots in Europe and Hawaii, of course.”
As she chewed, she regarded him. “You’re trying to downplay your travels so I won’t feel bad.”
He lifted the glass of wine to his lips and smiled. “Maybe.”
“Don’t. I’m perfectly content with the life I’ve lived.”
“All right. I like to travel during the off-season, so I’ve been to England, Portugal, Italy, and France, quite a few of the countries in South America, and several of the Caribbean islands. Hawaii, of course . . .”
Alicia listened to Garrett recount his travels. He was a smooth conversationalist, which surprised her. Some athletes could only talk about themselves, their sports, and their stats, but he was well-rounded.
“You enjoy travel.”
He smiled. “Yeah. I like meeting people. You can learn a lot from visiting other cultures.”
“What about home?”
“I like that, too.”
“Tell me about where you’re from.”
“Nevada. Lots of gambling.”
She laughed. “So, you’re from Las Vegas.”
“Around that area.”
“Is your family still there?”
“Half of them. My dad is.”
He stopped with his glass partway to his lips. There was something he wasn’t telling her.
“Wait,” she said. “Where’s your mom? I thought you said your parents were still together.”
He laid his wineglass on the table and shrugged. “Oh. Did I?”
“Yes. You did.”
“Huh.”
“Garrett.”
“I don’t remember that conversation.”
“Yes, you do. We just talked about it. You asked about my family, and I told you all about them. Then I asked about yours, and you led me to believe your family was exactly the same.”
He didn’t say anything, just grabbed another piece of bread and buttered it.
“Come to think of it, you never elaborated about your family at all.”
He wasn’t even looking at her, was tearing off small pieces of bread and leaving them on the plate. “My bad. My parents divorced when I was eighteen.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It’s okay. It was a good deal for them. They fought a lot. The waters have been calmer since the divorce.”
He seemed so matter-of-fact about it, when it had obviously hurt and probably still did. “It couldn’t have been easy for you.”
“No big deal.”
She put her hand over his. “Tell me about it.”
She ached for him, because she saw a man still hurting over the breakup of his parents’ marriage.
“Nothing to tell, really. It was over and done with a long time ago.”
And there he went again, his gaze riveted to his Chianti, as if it held all the answers. She squeezed his hand. “Garrett. Talk to me.”
He lifted his gaze and met hers. “Trying to do the whole college and baseball thing while there was shit going down at home kind of sucked, but I got through it. They were both really supportive of me, didn’t want me to think my world was coming to an end just because their marriage was.”
She pushed her plate to the side and took a sip of wine. “I’m sure you thought it was.”
“I was eighteen, not a kid.”
“Eighteen is still a kid. It’s hard for anyone to have their parents’ marriage break up. I don’t think it matters how old you are.”
He gazed at her over his glass of wine. “I survived it.”
“You’re trying hard to downplay what had to be a really traumatic moment in your life. Why?”
He studied her, then grabbed the bottle and refilled her glass. “It’s not something I like reliving. Frankly, it sucked. I was pissed at them for ending their marriage. I wanted them to stay together.”