Page 27 of Banter & Blushes

“I am not here for this,” I muttered to myself. “I’m just here for a little trip and some peace and quiet. No romantic beachside distractions.”

I watched as he returned with a plate that looked entirely too pretty to eat. Like, too pretty. Who made crab salad look like a five-star dish?

“Here you go,” he said, placing the dish in front of me, his hand brushing mine in the process. I swear, the warmth lingered longer than it should have. “I hope it’s everything you never knew you needed. I’m Luca, by the way.”

“Right…” I said, forcing myself to look at the salad instead of his ridiculously charming smile. I needed to stay focused. This was a salad. A perfectly ordinary, non-disruptive salad.

I picked up my fork, trying to look casual. But the moment I took a bite, I realized it was...amazing. Like, this wasn’t just any salad. This was a salad that made me reconsider my entire relationship with food.

“You know,” I said, after a moment of chewing, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to make me fall in love with your crab salad.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “If you’re in love with it, I think I’ve done my job.”

“Yeah,” I said, a little too quickly. “Well, I don’t fall in love with food. I fall in love with efficiency, spreadsheets, and the occasional glass of overpriced wine.”

Luca leaned against the counter, grinning like he knew exactly how much I was holding back. “Oh, but what if food was more than just calories and spreadsheets? What if it was a way to... live?”

I froze. “What’s next? Are you going to suggest I abandon my life of meticulous planning and eat all the crab salad I can handle, living in the moment?”

He shrugged, looking entirely too content. “You could. Or, you could just enjoy this moment. No spreadsheets required.”

I stared at him, trying to suppress an eye roll. “You are way too much of a beachy philosopher for me.”

But secretly? I kind of liked it.

“Just trying to make the world a little less... complicated.” He gave me another wink before walking away, leaving me alone with my thoughts, my salad, and an inexplicable flutter in my stomach.

Maybe this trip was exactly what I needed.

Or maybe I was just hungry. Either way, my life was about to get a whole lot more unpredictable.

THAT’S NOT HOW YOU FLIRT, LUCA

REBECCA

The next few days followed a surprisingly predictable pattern: Maya dragging me to all the local attractions—cafés, surf shops, random stores selling “local” rock formations that were honestly just oddly shaped stones—and me doing my best to pretend I wasn’t counting the minutes until I could go back to my hotel room, take a nap, and binge-watch something that required zero brainpower.

I was getting good at pretending to be relaxed, but the truth was, I was still uneasy. This town was too slow. Too...charming. It was like the entire place was a Pinterest board, and I was the lone grumpy face trying to ruin the vibe.

Maya, of course, didn’t care about my low-key panic attack in human form. She was having the time of her life, probably making lifelong memories while I was secretly Googling "how to stop thinking about spreadsheets at the beach." But as long as she was happy, I was trying to suck it up and participate.

Which led me to where I was today—standing at the counter of Luca’s restaurant, trying to act like I wasn’t here for him.

I’d convinced myself it was just about the food. The food was fantastic, after all.So goodit made me question why I ever bothered with the sad salads and sandwiches of my city life. But then, as I walked into the restaurant, Luca flashed that grin at me, and I was once again reminded that my attempts at pretending I wasn’t here for him were laughably futile.

“Back for more?” Luca said, wiping his hands on his apron like he hadn’t just sent my heart into a brief but intense episode of arrhythmia.

“Yeah, you’ve got this little problem,” I said, leaning against the counter. “Your food is so good it’s practically an addiction. I may even need a 12-step program after this.”

Luca raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my bluntness. “An addiction to food. Classic. Should I be worried, or just flattered?”

“Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head, “I’m in total control. It’s theperfectbalance of flavor and danger. I’m just... in the throes of my current obsession. But don’t worry—I’m not the kind of person who lets a little thing like ‘good food’ make decisions for me.”

“Good to know,” he said, his smile a little too knowing. He looked at me for a beat too long, and I immediately wondered if I’d said something that made me soundweird. Which, let’s be honest, I probably did.

“I’ll take the usual,” I said, quickly changing the subject before I did anything else embarrassing, like accidentally ordering dessert as if it were a main course.

Luca nodded and turned to start preparing my meal. I tried to keep my focus on the menu board above the counter, pretending I wasn’t staring at his arms, which were covered in tattoos that I was fairly sure meant something cool, but I had no idea what. I should’ve cared, but the truth was, all I cared about at that exact moment was the fact that my heart rate had once again sped up for reasons I didn’t want to examine too closely.

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