Page 43 of Loving Wild

“What is that?” I whisper. “Is that Italian?”

He gives me a small smile before swallowing so hard I see his throat move.

“It’s what I remember my mum saying when I was a kid. If we were upset, hurt, had a bad dream, that’s what she’d say. Or something like it at least.”

“What does it mean?” I ask in a whisper. Not sure why I’m whispering, probably because the words sounded so beautiful, I don’t want to ruin the memory with my Essexness.

“I think it’s something like, calm down, my love, I’m here, I’ve got you.”

“It’s so beautiful,” I again sob out the words, not even trying a little bit to hide the fact I’m crying.

“I used to know more, but I’ve forgotten a lot of what she taught me.ThatI remember though and used to say it to Ava.”

Burying my face in his neck, I wrap my arms around him while still holding on to my now empty glass. I don’t know why I’m feeling so emotional, thoughts of my dad, Gabe’s mum, Gabe talking Italian, a combination of all those things, I don’t know, but it feels good. It’s a good kind of cry, the kind you just need sometimes, even when everything is going great, and you have no reason.

“You doing okay?” Gabe eventually asks against my hair.

“Yeah, just having a moment.”

“I didn’t upset you?”

“Nah, the opposite in fact.”

“Opposite?” he questions.

“Your Italian is hot. It gave me fanny flutters.”

I feel his belly and chest move underneath me before his hand comes up to tilt my face up towards his. I take in his smile, then his eyes.

“Fanny flutters?” he asks with a quirk of his brow.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck me. If those few words in Italian gave you fanny flutters, then I’m gonna take lessons and learn to speak it fluently.”

“No need. You’re already fluent in what makes my fanny flutter, throw in the odd Italian word and I’m all yours, Wild, all fucking yours.”

“Sono tutto tuo, ti amo uccellino.”

I move in to kiss him. My lips cover his for just a second before he takes over. His fingers grip my hair, his tongue tangles with mine, his mouth moving over mine until I’m out of breath.

“I don’t know what you said, but do you think you could still say it if I was sitting on your face?”

“Not sure. Wanna come in the bedroom and find out?”

“Fuck yeah.”

He stands with me in his arms, still holding his beer bottle.

“Dad, we going out later or getting takeaway?” Ava calls up the stairs.

“Takeaway,” I whisper.

“Takeaway,” Gabe repeats but louder. “Have a think about what you want.”

“Can we play on the Wii?”

“As long as it’s not the dancing one.”