Free Hired: The Italian's Bride by Donna Alward

“I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to him.”
    He was also a level of protection for her. Nothing would hurt her while Tommy was close by. He wasn’t vicious by any stretch, but he was big and he was loyal.
    “We’ll wait for you, then. Enjoy the outside and get acquainted.” Luca put the basket down and sat on a deck chair, rubbing Tommy’s silky ears in his fingers.
    Mari went into the bedroom and pulled jeans and a soft sweater out of her closet. It felt strangely intimate, undressing and knowing Luca was only a few steps away. She slid the jeans over her panties, pulled the sweater over her head and re-did her ponytail.
    All the while aware that he was out on her porch, with her dog and a picnic.
    This could technically be classified as a date.
    She sat heavily on the bed. No, it was a working lunch, that was all. A break from the craziness that had become the Cascade and testing out guest services. They could eat and still classify it as work. They could forge a truce of sorts. That was what Luca had said, right? That he wanted to be friends. She was torn. She wanted friends, she did. And yet the idea of getting close to people frightened her. She wished she were different. That she could leave the past where it belonged, behind her. That she could shed all the hurt and fear and live a normal life. Instead she tied herself into knots over the mere thought of being alone with her boss for a simple lunch.
    Mari wasn’t prepared for the tumbling feeling in her belly when he came into a room. She’d spent so long on her own, focused on getting her life together that it was a new and unsettling experience. Bringing him here today wasn’t an accident. Knowing Tommy was with them—between them—would help. He was her reinforcement. Charlie would be waiting here, with the car. She would not be alone. And perhaps with this one lunch Mari and Luca could finally set a consistent tone. Perhaps they could come to some agreement on how to deal with each other during the coming weeks. He was right about that. They had to find a way to work together.
    “Mari? Are you all right?”
    She startled at the sound of his voice. She’d been daydreaming for several minutes, leaving him to his own devices on her veranda.
    “Coming,” she called out, standing and smoothing her clothing. He hadn’t made this into anything other than lunch. It was Mari who was off balance. She either sniped at him or stared at him stupidly. It was her imagination running wild because he caused her temperature to rise a little bit each time he was around.
    And because she hadn’t felt like this in such a long time the novelty was jarring.
    She met them back on the porch. “Let’s go. Tommy, come.”
    The dog fell in step at her heels, while Luca carried the basket, and the black Cadillac rested down the hill from them.
    She led him across the lane and up a small, single track path. Little traffic ventured along here, but she could always see her little cottage just below. The grass was drying, golden in the noontime light. When she reached the crest of the hill, she stopped, picked up a stick and threw it a short distance for Tommy, who bounded off and then brought it back, tail wagging.
    From the crest of the hill they could see down the valley. Her cottage and their car lay below them; the hollow was cradled by spruces and pines and the ever-present poplars and birches that were rapidly losing their plumage. The nearly round leaves scattered everywhere, forming a golden carpet, while the air held the sharp tang of evergreen. “Is this okay?”
    Luca put down the basket and reached inside for a blanket. “It’s perfect.”
    She sat down on the blanket, throwing the stick for the dog again. “We won’t have many more days like this,” she murmured, feeling the sun warm her face. “I’m surprised it’s held on this long.”
    “Then we must make the most of it.” He began unpacking the basket. “Tomato bocconcini and