“When I was...very small,” I say, holding my hand down to my knee to show how tall I was, “my dad would carry me on his shoulders and point out some of the other villages from this park up on a mountain ridge. Then we’d go get gelato from the little shops close by, and he’d tell me about the places he went when he was growing up.”
I feel Serena’s steady gaze on me, and the look on her face reminds me that I’m starting to get a little misty-eyed. I blink it away, and shake my head. “That was a long time ago, though.”
There’s silence between us as we walk slowly, and finally she says, “Your dad sounds like a good guy.”
I nod.
“The place reminds me a little of what my dad used to describe,” she says, and she wraps her arms around my bicep to lean her head on me as we walk. “He was just a teenager when they left Sicily, but it sounds like they’re a lot alike.”
“Sicily and the mainland? They have everything and nothing in common,” I say. “But they’re both beautiful places. We ought to go sometime.”
“Just up and go to Italy?” she says, a slight laugh to her voice, but I smile at her perfectly sincere.
“Why not? I’ll make sure you get time off from work to close the shop for a few days.”
“Oh god, I could never!”
“When customers come in, I’ll ‘encourage’ them to make a few purchases,” I say, playing up my best menacing accent and cracking my knuckles. Serena giggles and slaps my chest in protest, but I surprise her by scooping her up off the ground and spinning in a circle with her, then planting a kiss on her lips as she throws her arms around my neck. It was painful in my condition, but worth it.
We look at each other for a long moment, smiling, and I know we’re both losing ourselves in the fantasy for a little bit.
“It’s starting to get dark,” I finally say, gently setting her down. “I ought to get you back.”
We make our way back toward the car and climb in, but once we’re driving, I can’t help but feel like something’s lacking from our little date. After a moment, I look over to Serena.
“Feel like going for a drive?”
“A drive?”
“I know someplace nice,” I say. “It’s too nice a night to waste inside.
A few minutes later, I turn off to head toward Orchard Beach, an idea forming in my mind. When Serena realizes where we’re headed, a confused smile plays across her lips. “Bruno, it’s like, eight at night!”
“I want to show you something,” I say simply, parking the car. “It’s on the far end of the beach, this way.”
As we approach the sand, Serena gasps at the sight, and immediately, I start looking around for danger, but then I hear her voice.
“Oh my god, Bruno, look at the water!”
My concern melts away as I look up at it. The full moon is low on the water, casting a carpet-like stream of white reflective light on the gentle waves. There’s not a cloud in the sky, and it couldn’t be more beautiful.
I feel Serena looking at me, and I turn to see the most pleading eyes I’ve ever seen. “Do you want to go for a walk on the beach?” I ask with an arched eyebrow and a wide smile.
“How’d you guess?” she says, laughing before she darts over to the sand, kicking off her shoes and picking them up. I shake my head as I catch up to her and do the same.
We make our way out onto the beach proper. We’re not the only ones out here tonight—I can see a few people further down here and there—but we’re the only ones in this area. No other sounds but our feet crunching in the sand and the gentle sounds of the waves kissing the shore.
Serena goes almost to where the icy waters touch, and I start leading her to where I have in mind. The beach is pretty flat and open, and we’re technically not supposed to be out here this late, but nothing’s going to bother us while I’m around.
Before long, we come up to a little outcropping of rocks, and I lead Serena around it. “What’s this?” she asks, and I crouch down to squint at the rock, looking it up and down. After a moment, I smile and point to something.
The words VOGLIO TORNARE are carved in a crude hand, a little weathered but still there. Serena blinks at it blankly.
“When I first got here, to America,” I say, “well, I told you about how I was kind of a shit. I ran away from home once, the first few weeks. I really didn’t want to be here. So I ran all the way out here to this beach and hid out for...I don’t know, a few hours.” I grin. “I was a rebel, but I got bored easy.”
Serena reaches out and brushes her hand over the words. “Did you write this?”
“It means ‘I want to go back,’” I explain, nodding. Serena is quiet for a few moments.
“It must have been hard, getting used to somewhere this new,” she says. I’m thoughtful for a moment, but then I reach up and pull her down with me, rolling onto the sand, and she yelps as I hug her close to me.
“I might have settled down if I’d had you to distract me sooner,” I whisper into her ear, and she wiggles in protest, giggling. Soon, though we find ourselves sitting up, Serena between my legs as we watch the bright, moonlit water.
“Think it’s dangerous out here?” Serena asks, leaning her head back against my shoulder. Wisps of her hair flutter as I breathe in and out.
“Could be,” I say, reaching to my pocket, “I’ve never had to worry about that kind of thing.” I pull out a switchblade, opening it and letting it gleam in the moonlight as Serena looks down at it.
“Are you kidding? Giant, musclebound Italian guy with a knife?” she teases, but I squeeze her to me, chuckling as I plant a kiss on her neck. She squirms away from it with a smile, and I pepper her neck with kisses until she starts turning her neck up and scooting her butt into my crotch, her playful giggling melting away to short breaths.
“Why, are you afraid of something?” I ask, lowering my voice, and I bring my knife up to her collarbone. She hold still as I let the blade glide across her skin, and it gives her goosebumps.
“...Maybe I like a little danger,” she says, and I feel her shiver wonderfully against my hardening manhood. I smile, and my throat rumbles as I bring the blade up to her chin and whisper into her ear.
“Little lady like you should be careful, coming out so far with a dangerous man.”
Even in the moonlight, I can see her cheeks start to flush with color. Her eyes flash to the rest of the beach. “We’re pretty exposed out here,” she breathes.
“I don’t care,” I growl, my hand reaching up to her breast and squeezing it. She suppresses a yelp, and she bites her lip. “I don’t care if someone sees, I want to take you, Serena.”
“God, I want you, Bruno,” she whimpers. She gives the shore one last worried look, but the same energy within her I’ve always known she has overtakes her. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
“Trust me,” I say, and I slip my jacket off to lay on the sand before I pull her onto it carefully. Her chest is rising and falling, hair spilling over her shoulders as she looks up at me and the knife, terrified yet full of need.