Page 116 of Filthy Dirty Dom

Finally, they emerged into an open space Nestled at the edge of, a crystal-clear lake with a small building that rented boats. The sunlight danced on the surface of the water, casting a myriad of dazzling reflections that flickered like stars in a daytime sky.

"Wow," Leslie breathed out beside him, her eyes wide in awe as she took in the sight. "I can't believe we couldn't see this until we got through the trees."

"The best surprises are often hidden, aren't they?"

She looked at him askance. “Very true.”

They headed into the weathered boat rental shack nestled amongst the trees. A friendly old man greeted them. Alex rented a small sailboat painted a bright blue that matched the clear Italian sky overhead.

"You know how to sail?" Leslie asked.

He smiled. "Let's find out, shall we?"

Setting his backpack down, he began preparing the boat with practiced ease. His hands moved methodically, securing the ropes, adjusting the sails, and ensuring that everything was in order. As he worked, he was acutely aware of Leslie's gaze on him.

Soon, they were on the water, the wind playing with Leslie’s hair. The sight of her relaxed form lounging on the deck of the boat was a picture of perfect peacefulness he'd store in his memory forever.

As they glided over the water, Alex found himself pointing out landmarks to Leslie. A grand castle perched atop a distant hill, its stony walls basking in the sunlight, rich with centuries of history. Other sailboats like theirs, sails billowing in the wind, their colorful hulls dotting the lake like splashes of paint on a canvas. The luxurious mansions lining the shore, an elegant spectacle of Italian architecture nestled amidst the lush greenery.

Leslie turned to him, her eyes sparkling with delight as she took in the breathtaking views. "This is an incredible surprise, Alex. What made you think of it?”

"I'm glad you're enjoying it. As to what made me think of it, that’s still part of the surprise.”

“Wow. You’re spoiling me.”

“I’d do it forever, if I could.”

At his words, Leslie’s expression closed off a little.

Shit. Why had he said that?

Why had he reminded her—reminded them both—that despite everything, despite the way he’d taken her virginity last night, he still couldn’t accept that Leslie could be his forever.

He continued sailing, and thankfully, the sadness seemed to leave Leslie.

As midday approached, Alex guided their sailboat towards a small village on the far side of the lake. The quintessential Italian town was a charming blend of cobblestone streets, pastel-colored houses, and trailing vines of ivy, giving it a timeless allure that fit seamlessly into the picturesque landscape.

After docking the boat with practiced ease, Alex held out his hand to Leslie. The warmth of her fingers was a sweet contrast to the cool breeze drifting from the lake.

The narrow, winding streets of the village led them to a small waterfront restaurant, nestled between two vibrantly colored buildings. The eatery was a quaint establishment with a mere ten tables, and Alex made sure they secured one right by the windows.

The view was stunning. Their table overlooked the lake, its surface shimmering under the sun, and the sight of sailboats scattered across the vast expanse of water was nothing short of breathtaking. As they settled down, Leslie's hand still securely nestled in his, Alex could not help but marvel at the perfection of the moment.

A sense of peace washed over him as he ordered their lunch, basking in the simplicity of the moment. Here, in this small Italian village, with Leslie by his side, the world outside seemed to blur, its sharp edges softened by the gentle lull of the lake and the affectionate squeeze of Leslie's hand in his.

Even as the day unfolded and the sun moved across the sky, Alex found himself wishing he could slow the moment, capture it, and tuck it away for the darker times. Because in that instant, sharing a quiet lunch with Leslie, everything felt right, everything felt as it should be.

53

The gentle lapping of the lake against the shore served as the perfect accompaniment to their meal.

The food was exceptional. Simplicity was the key, every dish a testament to the power of fresh, locally sourced ingredients. They started with a crisp, refreshing salad and hearty homemade bread, followed by handmade pasta tossed in a vibrant, fresh tomato sauce. Each bite was a mouthful of the Mediterranean, a tribute to the rich culinary heritage of the region.

"I don't think I've ever tasted anything so fresh," Leslie said. "And this view... it's like something out of a postcard."

"It's a beautiful country," Alex agreed, his gaze not on the breathtaking vista outside, but on Leslie.

When lunch was over and they left the quaint waterfront restaurant, he and Leslie explored the nearby shops. They were inside one that sold crystal sun catchers. Alex had a word with the shopkeeper, then told Leslie he wanted to buy something next door.

---