A Wedding on Ladybug Farm by Donna Ball

Author:Donna Ball
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Blue Merle Publishing
Published: 2014-05-04T22:00:00+00:00

~*~

Kevin’s pillow smelled like jasmine. He smiled even before he opened his eyes, letting the moment linger. He turned over in bed and found his glasses. Lori was sitting in a patch of buttery sunlight on the faded upholstered bench of the window embrasure that overlooked the courtyard below, sipping cappuccino from a paper cup and turning the pages of an Italian newspaper. She was wearing a loose white tank top and a long printed skirt, and her hair, spilling wild and curly over her shoulders, reminded him of bright new pennies tumbled in a stream. He wanted to tell her that she looked like a Botticelli painting. He wanted to tell her that he would conquer the world for her and ask nothing, not even a smile, in return. He wanted to tell her that he loved her beyond all reason or possible understanding. Instead, he propped himself up with a pillow behind his head and said, “Whatcha doing?”

She turned a page of the paper. “Looking for a job. I figure if you’re going to be able to continue to support me in the style to which I’ve become accustomed, at least one of us needs to be working.”

Kevin’s hotel, while a far cry from the hovel in which Lori had been living, was not exactly the Ritz Carlton. But the air-conditioning worked most of the time and there was daily maid service, and it was on a quiet street less than a block from the shopping district. There was a coffee shop downstairs and some excellent restaurants within walking distance. For the past two weeks they had lived like tourists, dining out for every meal, sharing a bottle of wine in the courtyard in the evening, taking the train to nearby attractions, walking the vineyards, touring the wineries. Kevin wanted to show her everything, give her everything, make her eyes light up at every possible moment. Of course he knew they couldn’t keep that up forever, but forever was not something either of them talked much about.

But he thought about it. A lot.

He said, “Since when did you learn to read Italian?”

“I didn’t.” She got up and came over to him, two cups of cappuccino and the newspaper in hand. “That’s why you should probably be the one with the job.”

He took the newspaper from her and set it aside. “As it happens,” he said, “I know a place where there’s an opening for a barista.”

He took the coffees from her and put them on the nightstand. He pulled her into his arms and lost himself in her dancing eyes and the smell of jasmine. She tasted like cappuccino and every dream he had ever had, and when finally, reluctantly, they parted, he could tell she kept her expression stern with an effort.

“I’m serious,” she said.

“So am I.” He pushed her hair away from her face with a single tender stroke and added softly, surprising himself, “Oddly enough.”

She looked a question at him, but before he could answer

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