Page 71 of The Second Chance in the Mediterranean
“You think Seb would stay just for me?”
His eyes turned tender. Wordlessly, he pointed to the whiteboard.
Written in the blank space, in Seb’s handwriting:“After a good dinner, one can forgive anybody.”—Oscar Wilde
I pursed my lips. “Actually, I have a better idea. What are we serving tomorrow?”
* * *
When the doorto the crew quarters opened, I was ready.
Roy said, “Go ahead,” and Seb responded with a “Thanks, man.” Seb stepped into the lounge and the door closed behind him. He glanced back, surprised, but then he caught sight of me.
“Hi,” I started nervously.
Seb looked around the galley. “Hey, yourself. I thought you’d have the day off today?”
I shook my head. “I gave Roy the day off.”
An eyebrow rose. “You got Roy to wake up early on his day off?”
“He’s surprisingly romantic.” I shrugged.
Seb stepped forward and placed his hands on the counter, leaning toward me. “And what is so romantic about today?”
I mirrored him, leaning against the other side of the island. “I made a special day today, just for you. First, we have Italian coffee.” I turned around and pointed to the tray of freshly baked guava pastries. “I tried to find some Cubanpastelitosto make you, but there wasn’t much I could work with. But these have guava on the inside.” Seb walked around the island and picked up a pastry. “And I couldn’t find Cuban bread, either, of course, so I put baguettes on the sandwich press.”
Seb looked up, watching me.
“There’s meat cooking in the oven to makeropa viejatoday. And thenmedianochesandwiches for dinner.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “And then flan?”
“Of course.”
He leaned back against the counter, arms straight and tensed. “What does this mean, Marce? Why do this?”
“Because,” I said quietly, “I want you to know how much you mean to me. I know I’ve hurt you twice, and you don’t deserve that. You are the best man I’ve ever met. And we do fit together.”
His steady gaze watched me.
“I know I work myself too hard and get run-down. And I worry about my job too much. And I’m still scared. All of these things are me, and I know I need to work on them myself, but also...I have faith in you. I feel more confident with you.”
Seb straightened, his hand running through his curls, a breath of air leaving his lips. But then he leaned toward me, bracing his hip on the counter.
“Seb. I’m sorry.” I stared up into his eyes, his expression serious. “I thought it would be a big ugly thing if we got caught, and I panicked because I can’t seem to keep away from you. I was scared, and I’m sorry.”
I watched, moment by moment, as Seb melted, his shoulders dropping and his mouth relaxing. He smiled softly. “I forgive you.”
“You do?” A weight lifted, hope flooding in and encouraging me. Seb took the two steps around the counter toward me. He tilted his head down, looking into my eyes. “You’ll get scared again, I know. And that’s okay. But we can be a team, a really good one. You’re the team I want.”
He reached up and threaded his fingers through my hair before pulling me in for a deep kiss. My hands came up around his back to grip his shoulders and I opened up for him. His lips were warm and soft and I took a deep breath in, filling myself with the delicious way he smelled.
He pulled back slightly and nipped my lips as he ran his thumbs down my neck.
I panted under him, trying to catch my breath. His smile pressed into mine, and he took an inhale. “Fresh herbs and roasting meat and Marcella. It smells like home,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “What’s the rest of the crew going to eat?” he teased.
“Ah well, I had to make enough for everybody since I gave Roy the day off and took over the menu for the day.”
