Page 22 of Awake in Cheshire Bay

As much as I’d like to hold him to that, I knew it would never happen. Tonight was a one-off thing. There’s no way the likes of him would purposely come back here, and there’s no way the likes of me could ever afford to go where he was. We were like oil and vinegar; sure we were mixing, but it wouldn’t take long for us to separate.

We stepped off the wooden docks and back onto the gravel paths. “Well, what else would you like to see?”

He lifted his shoulders high. “I do not know what is here.”

Hmm. We were on the eastern edge of the peninsula. There wasn’t much out this way aside from a lighthouse, and a tiny bridge which if we walked across, would put us close to the road leading him back his motel.

There was one other place. “Do you like dancing?”

“Ja.”

“Then, let’s check out The Cowboy Den.” It was a nice easy walk to the western pub.

“Like yours?”

“No.” I laughed and didn’t even try to contain myself. “There’s no dance floor in mine. Just a cozy little place for people to socialize and unwind. We keep the music volume at a respectable level. It’s peaceful.”

In the heat of the summer months, the outdoor patio was a complete 180 to the inside. The music was much louder, but the clientele was different too. Younger and full of energy. They often had their own dance parties in the sand just off the gigantic porch.

“Peaceful good.”

“Yes. It’s the best way to unwind.” Especially after a long day, and thankfully, this area was chalk full of places to relax. Not that we needed it really, the town itself was fairly laid back. It was a great draw for the tourists though, a nice change from their urban lives.

We walked in a comfortable silence down the road, the occasional car driving by.

Antonio squeezed my hand and faced me as we approached the road leading to the den. “You like being boss?”

“I don’t mind it. The worst part is having to fire someone, but thankfully…” I ran to the nearest tree and rapped my knuckles against the trunk. “I’ve only had to do it twice. But yeah, for the most part, I like being in charge. I like the control.”

“Me too.”

“You’re the boss? Of your real estate company?”

“Ja.” He nodded, a sly smile inching out the left side. Damn it was cute.

“In… Italy?”

He chuckled at my weak attempt to discover more about him. “The boss of many.”

“Of many? Like a hundred employees?”

He pointed up.

“A thousand?” The whites of my eyes grew.

“More.”

Wow. I didn’t need to know how many more. If he had that many employees, his hourly income was far superior to my yearly income. “No wonder you can travel so much. I have five, six including myself, on payroll.”

“We all start small.” He stopped and lifted my hand, planting a tender, toe-curling kiss on my hand. The tingling sensations firing away in my body were a pleasant surprise and I fought to breathe out normally.

“I suppose we do.”

We stopped outside the busiest bar in town, a true country and western gem, complete with guys and gals donning traditional cowboy hats and boots, and huge, shiny belt buckles. It tickled me to see the scene because most of the islanders were laid back beach types, but with the people mingling out and about the main doors, you’d never know it.

The music blared when the old-fashioned saloon-styled door opened, and a patron stumbled out.

“Care to check it out?” I asked, curious to see if this was his jam. Somehow, I highly suspected he was more of a jazz music fan.