Page 40 of I Think Olive You

It’s time. Dusk paints the sky over the sprawling grove, the sun’s hazy heat hanging around the horizon like a mirage.

“Hey, let’s get some air.” Threading my fingers between Giuliana’s, I nudge her gently toward the grove.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. The bridal party is in the grove.” She doesn’t pull her hand away but her feet remain glued to the floor.

“It’s massive out there. They won’t even notice, and this might be the only chance we get to explore without someone watching.” It’s a lie. Kelsey will be watching. Francesca too. Hell, I have no idea who else might know since Francesca was so free with her information earlier.

“That’s a good point. But the second it looks like we might get in the way we are running back here. Is that clear?” Giuliana tries to keep her tone stern and her expression serious. I nod like the boy scout that I definitely am not.

We stroll down the stairs toward the rows of trees—a different cultivar from the one Giuliana’s family uses—her hand still in mine despite the fact that no one is around to see. She takes the time to touch the bark, to caress the fruit. It doesn’t feel all that different to me but then again, I’m too caught up in the knowledge of what comes next.

Blue summer sky melts into purples and oranges as the sun gives her last hurrah, and I know it’s my moment. I stall, Giuliana’s step interrupted by my immobility and the connection of our hands. She looks back at me in confusion that only grows when I whisper.

“Okay, so remember when I said there was a surprise?”

“Yes? What did you do?”

“I knew there was no way you’d go along with this and I wanted to make sure you actually looked surprised. My mouth got ahead of me when I was spinning my little story to Francesca, and it kind of snowballed from there.”

Her brows draw down over those expressive eyes, darkening the spiced rum into something even more dangerous.

“What did you do?”

“You’ll see. Try to remember this is for you. I’m doing this to help so please, trust me.”

“Matteo?” It’s a warning.

“Giuliana, promise me.” My heart races, my body itching to run off some of this energy. Nowhere to run now, it’s time to face the music.

“Okay, okay. I’ll trust you.”

I drop her hand and take a step back. It doesn’t have to be this extra, it doesn’t have to be anything at all. If I hadn’t been so fucked with anxiety, I could have told her back in the room and asked her to slip on the ring to cement our charade. But my lies included a grove proposal, and god dammit, I’m going to see it through.

Her beautiful brown eyes stare up at me, lashes impossibly long, the light catching and warming the color to something molten and warm. Skin I long to touch glows in the golden hour around us and I have to swallow twice before I speak—a little louder in case we have an audience, which I suspect we might.

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. Not just the way you look but the way you act and are. I see how much you care about your family; about the people you’ve taken responsibility for who see you as more than just a boss. You’ve built something amazing.”

She starts to interrupt and I’m sure she’s going to brush it off so I shake my head and her parted lips close.

“You did it. You took what was given and you poured your blood and tears into keeping it alive. And that’s how you make me feel. I’ve never felt as alive as I do with you. Your laugh spreads threads of gold through my whole body. Your lips taste like the sweetest wine. I’m drunk on you, on each drop of your presence. Lia…

“Every second of this summer has been the best of my life and I know I’ll never forget a moment of it. I’m in awe of you. I don’t deserve to even breathe the same air as you. But… we both know I’m a selfish bastard, so.”

Sinking onto one knee, I pull out the ring box that thankfully only catches once in my pocket. The lid snaps open, sunset dancing in the cuts and curves of the stone. My muscles shake, my body not realizing that this is fake—this proposal isn’t the real deal. I don’t even care that I’ve moved from silly nicknames to rile her onto something that feels very personal—intimate.

“Matteo,” she gasps, her breathing getting harsher and I can see something vulnerable settle onto her face.

“Trust me, for Abundantia’s sake,” I whisper.

“Giuliana Santoro, will you do me the immense honor of agreeing to marry me?”

“Matteo de Palma… che cazzo stai facendo?” Her voice is a whisper, the meaning clear even if the words are not. Giuliana looks confused and heartbroken.

“You promised to trust me,” I remind her, and she takes a deep breath, raising her shaking left hand to her lips. Silence stretches between us and my heart twists in my chest in fear and anticipation.

“Yes.” It’s a little breathless and it takes me a second to realize she’s not just acknowledging what I said. Her hand outstretched and waiting, I fumble with getting the ring out of the box. The velvet square clatters to the ground as I slip the slightly-too-big ring onto her finger.

“You’re going to explain everything to me.” It’s a command, not a request, and all I can do is nod. Stomach knotted into something unrecognizable at the sight of the ring on her finger, I surge to my feet without thinking.

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