Chapter Twenty-Four

June 7

WE BRANCH OUT over the next few days to the surrounding cities and towns, finding each as lovely as the last. And I wasn’t kidding about the food. It’s all amazing.

First on our list is Siena, one of the larger cities in the area. I can tell as we drive in that it is huge compared to our little Trequanda, but walking through the streets makes it seem just as quaint. Or so I think until we turn a corner and find the large church in the middle of the city. The Siena Duomo, or Siena Cathedral, is breathtaking. I mean, I literally gasped when we saw it. I couldn’t stop staring at it.

It has a really cool striped pattern along the sides and this gorgeous door on the front. We didn’t take the official tour, so I can’t tell you the history or any of the materials, but it’s just so cool looking. There’s also this really big sun over the door that surprised me. I wish I’d asked what it meant.

“Uh, did you want to go inside?” Carter asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Sure,” I say, though I know I could have stared at the outside for hours.

The inside is even more magnificent, and we both take our time examining all the paintings and intricate carvings throughout. I still don’t know what a lot of it means or who made it, but I know how it makes me feel, and that’s what counts. Well, to me anyway.

“Am I allowed to light a candle?” I whisper to Carter, gesturing toward the pretty little tea lights grouped in sections around the church.

“Uh, I think so?” comes his quiet reply. “It looks like they have a spot for donations. I don’t see why not.”

I approach the nearest group of candles, drop a euro in the box, and pick up a candle. But then, I blank on what to pray for. Safe travels for our trip? Guidance on my quest to find true love this year? Does God really want to help someone who is currently being protested by religious people? And that’s when it hits me.

Under my breath, I mutter the following as I use the flame of another candle to light my own.

“Hi, God. It’s me. Could you please heal the hearts of the people who hate me back home? Give them whatever peace they need so that they don’t have to put me down to feel better about themselves. Maybe tell them I’m actually pretty nice? And please keep Meg and the baby safe. And if you have time, I’d love a sign or two about what I’m supposed to be doing. Thanks, and amen.”

Satisfied that I haven’t offended the nice nuns or whoever set the candles out, I place my candle down with the rest of them and smile. That felt nice.

We hit the streets of Siena again, blinking in the bright sunlight. There are restaurants near the Duomo, but one thing I’ve learned while traveling is to get a bit of distance from the touristy areas of a place if you want to find the good food. Or at least not get ripped off.

We make our way back toward the center of town when I again smell something really delicious.

“Is that Chinese food?” says Carter.

“Sure smells like it,” I say, turning in a circle to try to find the source.

We both see it at the same time: a Chinese flag hanging above the doorway of a little restaurant. The menu in the front window has pictures and now that we have a visual to match the smell, we decide to go in.

I never thought I’d have the best Chinese food of my life in Siena, Italy, but darn if we don’t have some seriously delicious food there. Soup, dumplings, multiple meat and rice dishes. All served by the sweetest Chinese couple, who we also hear serving a couple in the corner in Italian after taking our order in English. I wish I had thought to ask them their story, but I somehow know they’ve lived an interesting life.

Exploring the rest of the city is much easier on a full stomach, especially when we get to the town square and decide to climb the bell tower of the Palazzo Pubblico, which gives us a beautiful view of Piazza del Campo and all of Siena. Climbing tall structures will soon become a main staple in each town we visit, making my emphasis on eating all the good food that much more important.

Similarly, I easily talk Carter into rewarding our hard work up and down the tower with gelato, which I keep track of in the notebook I picked up at a local gift shop. My stracciatella was quite good, while Carter’s banana was also yummy.

The next day, we take a similar tour around Montepulciano, where I nerdily point out the church where they filmed part of the Twilight movies. Carter threatens to ditch me if I ever mention that again, so I take a selfie behind his back before we look for a place for lunch.

On our way to find food, we stumble across a wine cellar offering tours and tastings. We take about a second to think about it before walking in and pretending to care how it all works before the good part: tasting. Well, Carter probably cares more than I do about how it works, but I am pretty much focused on the actual drinking part. I am not disappointed, and we end up purchasing six bottles, which the owner kindly offers to hold on to for us while we continue our exploration of his town.

Another fabulous lunch (hello, gnocchi!), and a quick (actually, not so quick) climb of their bell tower and we feel like we have covered enough ground to call it a day. As it’s still early, we grab our wine, head back to the villa, and take ourselves a nap. After passing out early each day, exhausted from all the exploring and long evening strolls, I told Carter the only way we’d ever experience Italian nightlife would be for me to nap.

It’s brilliant. With no set time that we have to be anywhere, we fall asleep together on top of the covers, warm enough to feel perfectly comfortable. When the afternoon breeze changes through the window, I wake with goose bumps, and realize they are also coming from Carter, awake and gently caressing my arm.

Lazily, I roll toward him and kiss him. His hand moves from my arm to my legs, where he quickly goes from caressing my thigh to moving upward under the skirt of my dress. I smile as he wastes no time in moving my panties to the side and begins exploring my wetness.

“Well, someone woke up in a good mood,” I say, moaning a bit as he puts one finger fully inside me, still stroking around with his thumb on my clit.

“I woke up and saw you there and thought I’d be a gentleman and let you sleep,” he says, moving his hand on and inside me faster now. “But then I thought, ‘nah, she’s slept long enough.’”

“Indeed, I have,” I say, lying back and letting him continue. I’m wearing a light, button-down summer dress and lace bralette, so I use my free hands to unbutton and pull my dress open a bit. Carter needs no invitation and props himself up on his free arm. He leans down to kiss me on the mouth first before inching his way down my neck and onto my chest. He gently licks and plays with my nipples over the lace and the feeling sets me on fire. The combination of that and his expert handiwork on my clit soon bring me to climax.

“Mmmm, fuck me,” I say as my body stops shivering.

He pulls his shorts and boxers down with Superman-like speed, then lifts my skirt a little higher. Carter climbs on top of me and thrusts into me with urgency. I wonder how long he’d been hard and waiting for me, but don’t ask in case it broke his concentration.

“Hang on,” I say, realizing I have quite the visual opportunity here. “Roll over.”

Dropping to his back faster than a speeding bullet, Carter looks at me with anticipation as I climb on top of him and begin riding him with intensity. I reach up to grab the headboard for greater control and bring myself up and down in circular motions, enjoying the hell out of the face he’s making.

“Oh, fuck yes,” he says. “You look so fucking hot.”

This is exactly what I was going for. Half dressed, with my breasts covered in lace, on top and totally into it: I knew Carter would love it. I catch a glimpse of us in the mirror and am even more turned on when I see the picture we made.

We have made love many times before, had sex on countless occasions, but every once in a while, there’s only one word for it: fucking. We are going hard, and it feels great. Carter reaching his hands up to caress my breasts only increases my intense pleasure.

“Harder,” I moan, shrieking slightly when he pinches my nipples. A few more thrusts and I see Carter’s O face just before I feel him explode inside me. I lean down, not bothering to hop off just yet, and kiss him passionately.

“Damn,” he says. “We should really nap more often.”