Page 31 of An Italian Wedding Adventure

‘Use your left hand on the rock,’ he called up to her. ‘There’s a foothold below you – a bit further. That’s it.’

She seemed a little shaky when they reached the safety of the saddle and the forest path.

‘You did well,’ he said gruffly.

She just eyed him with a frustrated noise he’d heard a lot from her and she mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, ‘Drill sergeant,’ under her breath.

* * *

‘This is your definition of the weather rolling in?’

Sophie leaned casually against the sturdy wooden railing of the lookout and lifted her nose in the air. She was teasing him, but Andreas couldn’t bring himself to care when she looked so content, sunshine in her untidy hair.

The billowing clouds of the morning had burned off completely. Instead of the forecast rain, Lake Garda was sweltering in unseasonably warm spring weather.

‘I’m here to keep you safe, not predict the weather,’ he said. ‘Give me your phone.’

She handed him the device and he lined up a photo of her with the backdrop of the Monte Baldo massif and water stretching south to the horizon. Handing the phone back, he joined her by the railing, his forearm next to hers.

‘What do you think?’

‘There’s a lot more space up here than at Monte Castello di Gaino. The view is more spectacular too.’

‘We’re quite a lot higher in altitude. Do I sense a “but”?’

‘It seems a little silly, but the summit cross was nicer at the first one. And it’s kind of weird that there are two crosses up here. Where’s the actual summit?’

‘It’s not silly. You’re a purist. If you’re not standing on the actual highest point, then it doesn’t count.’

‘Youdounderstand,’ she accused him gently, apparently too relaxed to spar in earnest. ‘There’s symbolism in a summit.’

‘I still don’t think you need to getmarriedup here.’

‘Because you prefer the symbolism of getting married at the bottom of the lake with weights attached?’

The tension of the day snapped over him and he laughed, dropping his head, his shoulders shaking. ‘Is that one of the packages on offer?’

‘Fuck, I hope not,’ she said through pursed lips.

He grinned at her again. ‘I only have to get you to 1,200m for you to start swearing?’

‘I only have to say “fuck” to make you smile?’ she shot back.

‘I smile all the time,’ he insisted.

It was her turn to laugh. ‘You have the biggest scowl on your face right now. And we’re not even up to the bit where you have to play the groom.’

‘You’re not going to make me do that again, are you?’

‘Unfortunately, you are the only person I have to work with right now. You’re my “Andreas for size”.’

‘I’d rather be Andreas for size than the groom.’

‘I know. I’m sorry,’ she said, patting his arm. ‘I get that it’s awkward for you.’

It was awkward how his brain had gone straight to kissing her – awkward how he still felt as though they weren’t standing close enough, as though part of him had forgotten they’d broken up years ago.

‘Do you think they’d like this lookout for the ceremony?’ he asked.

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