Free Sammy in Italy (Single Wide Female Travels #2) by Lillianna Blake Page B

I grinned.  
    “Chicken Alfredo?” He raised an eyebrow.  
    “Always—but something else.”
    “What?”  
    “Pizza!”  
    “Oh, great idea.” He gestured to the waiter. “Do you serve pizza?”  
    The waiter stuck his nose in the air. “This may be hard to believe, sir, but every restaurant in Italy does not serve pizza. This would be one that does not.”  
    “Oh.” Max frowned. “I guess we could go somewhere else.” He looked over at me.  
    “No, it’s fine, I’m sure we can get pizza another time. I’ll order something else.”
    The waiter left menus on the table for us to look at.
    I ordered a salad and pasta combination. Max ordered spaghetti and meatballs. I didn’t think Italy was going to be doing any favors for my waistline.
    I picked at my food and shared a little conversation with Max, but my mind was focused on the day I’d had. Maybe it had ended in success, but I’d still experienced an extreme sense of unease. More than anything, I wanted to get back to that confident woman that I thought I’d become.  
    “Sammy, you’re a million miles away. You okay?”  
    “I think so. There’s something off. I just can’t put my finger on it.”  
    “Maybe some down time in the room will help.”  
    “Maybe.” I nodded.  
    After we finished our meals Max offered dessert. “Maybe something covered in chocolate sauce?”  
    “I’d better not. I’ve eaten enough pasta today to grow a pasta tree.”
    “A pasta tree?” He grinned. “I don’t think pasta grows on trees.”
    “Maybe not, but if I eat any more, I guarantee you, there could be a pasta tree.”
    “I’d like to see a pasta tree. Do you think you could climb it?”  
    I sighed. “Of course not. It would be too floppy.”
    “But pasta is hard before you cook it.” He wagged his finger at me.  
    “But it’s brittle.”
    “Good point. I give, you win.”
    “You just want to get me back to the hotel room.” I winked at him.  
    “It’s true, I do.” He paid the bill and we headed for the elevator.
    The moment I set foot inside the suite my nerves settled a little. It was good to be alone with Max. It was good not to feel under pressure to perform at a book signing or a fashion show. But still, something prickled at my mind.
    Max and I snuggled up and watched a movie together. It was much-needed quiet time—time for just the two of us to hang out together, but just as he was about to slide closer to me on the couch I glanced at my watch.  
    “Sorry, hon, I really want to be up in time for that meditation. Do you mind if I turn in early?” I met his eyes in time to see a hint of disappointment.  
    “Of course. It’s fine. I’m sure you’re tired from today. Go on to bed. I’ll be in soon.” We shared a quick kiss.
    I set my alarm on my phone to be sure that I’d be up in time the next morning. As I sprawled out in bed to really relax for the first time since I’d arrived in Venice, my heartbeat slowed. It was surprising to me that I was completely unaware of the amount of anxiety I’d been living with. If it was that easy for me to ignore my body’s signals, then I had a lot of self-work yet to do. A good night’s sleep might help with that.
    I willed myself to fall asleep. I counted sheep. I tried some color visualization. I recited sleep-inducing affirmations. But when Max walked into the room, my eyes flew right open.  
    “Are you still up?” He crawled into bed beside me.  
    “Yes, I’m not sure why.”
    “Maybe you missed me?” He snuggled close and kissed my cheek.  
    “I definitely missed you. I’m having a hard time falling asleep. I can’t figure out why.”  
    “You’ve had a busy day. Want a massage?” He rubbed my shoulder.  
    “Oh yes, that would be perfect.”
    I rolled over onto my stomach. Max’s hands kneaded deep into my muscles. With every roll of pressure I relaxed a little more. I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to envelop me. Instead, I experienced