Heaven and Hell (Heaven and Hell #1)(47)

He grinned and answered, “Yeah, honey, that works.”

“Good,” I whispered then pulled in a breath and muttered, “Let’s get this done.”

Sam, being Sam, curled a hand around the back of my knee, lifted my leg from his, set it gently down, got up, pulled out my chair and helped me out of it. Then I nabbed my purse, settled the strap on my shoulder, he grabbed my hand and led me to the American couple.

As we approached, I saw the woman was nearly bouncing in her chair. The man looked like he wished he had a syringe filled with a fast-acting sedative he could stick her with. And yes, I didn’t know the guy but that was exactly what he looked like.

“Ohmigod! You’re with your girlfriend!” the woman cried when we were within five feet of her table, she shot out of her chair (her husband coming up much more slowly) and her eyes shot to me. “Are you a model?”

“Uh… no,” I answered.

Her brows shot together. “An actress?”

“Uh –” I started but she cut me off.

“I haven’t seen you in any movies. What movies have you been in?”

“I’m not an actress. I’m an administrative assistant,” I told her and her jaw dropped.

Then she jabbed her husband with her elbow three times and exclaimed, “How neat is that!” Her eyes moved to Sam. “I love that! I just knew when you settled down it wouldn’t be with some fancy actress or something but a girl next door type. I knew it.” She turned to her husband. “Didn’t I know it?”

“How ‘bout we take this shot so you can get on with your dinner,” Sam suggested, tipping his head to the nearly full plates of food on their table.

“Oh, we’re good, we’re fine,” she assured Sam. “I know! Would you like to join us? I know you’re done eating but you could have a drink or a glass of wine or something.”

“Actually, I need to get my woman home,” Sam declined.

“Why? The night is young,” the woman noted truthfully but rudely.

“Tilda,” her husband muttered, taking her arm.

“Well it is,” she told him then looked at Sam. “We’d love it. It’d be an honor to have a drink with a hero.”

“Yeah, pumpkin,” her husband said with strained patience. “But maybe this hero would like some private time in a romantic place with his lovely lady.”

“Nonsense,” she shot back, indicating that the flame had died between Tilda and her hubby because if Lake Como couldn’t wake up the romance, nothing could and clearly the romance was dead between them, so dead, she couldn’t see that the romance might not be dead for everybody. Then she looked to Sam and me and declared, “Nothing better when you’re in a foreign place and you meet folks from home. Feels like you are home.”

This was an odd thing to say considering you were in a foreign place to experience that place and not be home.

Then again, Tilda was an odd woman.

But I couldn’t think of Tilda because, as this wore on, I felt Sam’s hand get tighter and tighter in mine so I felt it was time to step in before he broke bones.

“Actually,” I started my lie, “Sam needs to get me back to our hotel because I’m expecting an important call from home and I need privacy when I take it. Truthfully, we don’t have a great deal of time so I hate to be the one to rush this but do you mind awfully if I take the shot? Then we really need to go.”

“Oh,” Tilda mumbled, her face falling, “I hope everything is okay.”

“Me too,” I replied, taking matters into my own hands and reaching out to the camera that was sitting on their table. “But I’d hate for my call to come while we’re on the sidewalk or something so…” I trailed off, grabbed the camera and lifted it toward me. “Is there something special I need to do?”

“Point and click,” the man said quickly as he shuffled around the table toward Sam, dragging his wife with him.

To my shock and, apparently, seeing the visible tightening of his entire body, also to Sam’s, Tilda wrapped both her arms around Sam’s middle, plastered her front to his side, turned her head and smiled scarily at the camera. Her husband stood awkwardly off to Sam’s other side and smiled just as awkwardly.

Sam, being Sam, wrapped an arm around Tilda’s shoulders, placed a hand on one of the man’s shoulders and looked at me.

“Right, say cheese,” I called.

“Cheese!” Tilda screeched.

Her husband and Sam just smiled. I took the shot.

“One more, just in case,” I said swiftly then, “Ready, set, go.”

“Cheese!” Tilda repeated her shriek.

Sam and her husband just kept smiling. I took the shot.

Then I handed the camera to Tilda who nearly snatched it out of my hands, turning it around to look at the display even as she brought it toward her.

“Thank you, really,” the man muttered to Sam, “Kenny’ll like those.”

“They’re great!” Tilda cried then looked up at Sam and me. “Now, one with Coop’s girlfriend in it.”

“We have to go,” Sam’s rough voice rumbled.

“Just a quickie,” Tilda stated.

“We have to go,” Sam’s rough voice repeated on another rumble, this one firm and unyielding, so much so, Tilda’s body twitched and her eyes snapped to him in shock though how she could be shocked, I did not know but I was not a rabid celebrity hound who couldn’t take a hint either.