Page 25 of Duty and Desire

“I write about people who struggle to overcome their origins, their obstacles. And in the end they triumph.”

“How many books have you written?”

“I’ve had eight published.”

Except that wasn’t what I’d asked. I knew evasion when I heard it. I was a master at it.

“Are you writing a book about the islands?”

Gio huffed. “I’m not writing at all.” I blinked, and he leaned back in his chair, his focus on his empty plate. “You know what writer’s block is, don’t you?” I nodded. “Well, I’m suffering from a severe case of it. Six months ago, I was working on a book, and suddenly—pfft. Someone turned off the faucet and the words stopped flowing. I’ve tried everything to turn it back on, but so far, zilch.” He coughed. “Except that’s not strictly true. These past few days I’ve had a bit of inspiration, so maybe my staying here is working.” He flushed, and I wondered what had provided him with the spark he was clearly trying to fan into flames.

Gio peered at me. “What about you? I’m here to escape the chaos of the real world—what areyoutrying to escape from?”

Was I that obvious, or was Gio just really perceptive? My money was on the latter. I debated ignoring the question and changing the subject, but that wasn’t fair. He’d been open and honest about his family, his work…

I had to be just as open and honest—to a point.

“It shows, huh?”

He bit his lip. “It was simply an impression that wouldn’t go away.”

I expelled a breath. “I’m here because I don’t want to be around my family.”

He shifted his chair a little closer to mine. “What’s wrong with them?” The words sounded kind, his tone of voice soothing.

“My father is… Well, there’s a hardness to him. My older brother is just the same.”

“You seem to have escaped that trait.”

I gave him a warm smile. “Thank you for that. I’m told I take after my mother. She died when I was young. By all accounts she was a sweet lady.” I wished I’d known her better. Maybe my life could have been different if she’d been around. Then I straightened in my chair. “Anyway, I chose to come here, where I can live on my own terms, not howtheyexpect me to live.” I grimaced. “At least here I don’t have to deal with their expectations.”

“Of what?”

God, how to phrase it without revealing too much.

“Joining the family business,” I said at last. “I’m not ready for that. In fact, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for it, whereastheyare ideally suited. Plus, they don’t accept me being gay.”

“Sounds as if we have a lot in common,” Gio observed.

I stared out at the sky tinged with the colors of twilight, lights from boats twinkling out on the lagoon, a warm breeze ruffling the canopy over our heads.

It had been a good day, and as they say, all good things come to an end.

But I don’t want it to end.

“Can we do this again?” Gio blurted.

Relief swamped me. “I’d like that.”

He doesn’t want it to end either.

We each paid half, then I walked him to where we’d left our buggies.

“Thank you for the invitation, Gio. I had a great evening.”

He smiled. “Thanks for the hike. Maybe we could do another?”

I beamed. “Works for me. You’ve got my number. Let’s fix a date.” He quirked his eyebrows, and I realized how that sounded.

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