Page 10 of Capri

A silver fox—but younger. A silver cub.

His skin is an unblemished canvas with prominent cheekbones and a strong jawline. Neatly trimmed stubble lines his cheeks, bringing attention to his full lips. Lips I’d pay decent money for.

They don’t make ’em like this in Timber Heights.

It’s refreshing to see a man who’s not in a suit for once. Rest in fucking peace, ties and ironed dress shirts.

Don’t even get me started on his height and muscles. The man is in another league of his own.

Too pretty to be frequenting a candy store and stealing jawbreakers.

Too pretty to be smiling at me.

“That’s a big smile for someone who almost broke a tooth,” I say, and I’m not sure where my courage comes from.

His smile brightens. For some reason, he looks hesitant, surprised even, to be smiling. I’m not sure how I know that, but I’m confident it’s because I’ve smiled the same. “Clever. How do you eat those things?” He nods at my near-full bag. “Isn’t candy supposed to be edible?”

I notice he doesn’t have the traditional Italian accent I’ve learned most locals have in Capri. He sounds very American, but I don’t want to assume.

I give the bag a little shake. “Last I remember they were,” I admit. “I haven’t had them since I was a kid. Figured I’d give them another shot.” I send a hopeful smile to the handsome stranger.

He crosses his arms with a smug look on his face. “Okay, let’s see it.”

“I’m sorry?” I ask.

“Go on.” He nods. “Try one. Let’s see if they’re as good as you remember.”

I don’t know why I do it, but I do. I reach my hand in and grab two, dropping them in my mouth. He waits for my approval like it’s fun for him. I’m questioning my memory and if I actually remember them being soft or if I didn’t seem to care as a child.

I bite into chewy perfection.

“I knew it.” I yelp, and sure enough, he’s still here. Not looking any less comfortable.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Good?”

I nod, smiling big. “So good.”

His eyes fall to my lips for a brief second before he’s quickly pulling them away. I mindlessly turn to zip my bag up and reach for an empty bag to scoop Collie’s jellybeans.

“Now, these are the best,” the handsome stranger says.

I shift in his direction, judging him completely for the disgusting atrocity he scoops into his bag.

Banana Runts.

“What are you, sixty?” I blurt out. My hand flies to cover my mouth as if I can make my statement go away. I can’t.

Thankfully, he laughs and plays off my awkwardness.

“Not quite. More like thirty-nine.” Well, that answers my question on the age. He is, in fact, a silver cub.

Finest thirty-nine-year-old man I’ve ever seen.

“Oh, god. That was so rude. Not sure what I was thinking.” I giggle.

He chuckles and slides past me to scoop some mini jawbreakers into his bag.Interesting.“You were thinking I have poor taste in candy.” He laughs harder, and suddenly, I can’t stop.

“It is a pretty lame choice. I think my grandma ordered those in bulk on QVC when I was younger.”

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