The restaurant was starting to fill up by the time they left - after a brief argument over who would pay for dinner.
Oliver won. Well, he did't so much win as ride roughshod over her and do what he wanted, holding the small tray with his card on it out of her reach. Felicity wanted to pay, since he was the guest, but he wasn't having any of it. She knew Oliver was a little old school in that respect, and let it go.
Outside the quiet cul-de-sac which housed the restaurant, the streets had considerably livened up as cooler temperatures brought out both the tourists and locals. The sidewalks in front of stores were crammed with goods and thronged with shoppers looking for post cards and souvenirs. Oliver moved to the other side of her, keeping himself between her and the street, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. She slipped her arm around his waist and held on as he navigated the crowded sidewalk, eventually stepping out into the street with her. There were practically no cars anyway, only mopeds and the occasional donkey.
"That was a great place." Oliver steered her around a couple of teenagers locked in a passionate embrace. "We'll have to remember it. What's it called, anyway? The only name I saw was in the greek alphabet."
"It's called The View." They turned onto a quieter street, heading down toward the docks.
"What's that in Greek?"
"i̱ théa," she translated for him.
"E thea?" he repeated. "Really? T. H. E. A?"
"Yes. The Thea, basically."
He was silent for a moment, and she looked up at his profile. "I like it," he said pensively, looking back down at her, a small smile playing on his lips. For once he didn't look sad thinking about his sister.
"It seems somehow serendipitous." She returned his smile with one of her own.
When they got back to her Vespa, Oliver overruled her again, this time insisting on being the one to drive, catching her wrist and carefully peeling back her stubborn fingers to take her keys from her.
"I hope you feel ridiculous riding this after your Ducati," she muttered sourly as she climbed on behind him.
"I don't care what I look like. I just want to be the one driving." He steered them out of the parking lot and down the road. She could hear the laughter in his voice, and smiled into his back.
Felicity turned her face toward the sea, pressing her cheek between his shoulder blades and just watched the coastline slip by. As she let herself be hypnotized by the view of setting sun and gilded waves, and the warm, solid feel of Oliver in her arms and beneath her cheek, her heart swelled with a deep contentment. She didn't think she'd ever been happier, and once again found herself nursing the tender hope that he might stay for a good, long while.
Her daydreams were interrupted by the sounds of revelry up ahead. She frowned, lifting her head and looking toward the taverna over Oliver's shoulder.
"Oh crap!" she yelped. "I forgot! One of Maria's nephews got married today. The party's at the taverna. I was supposed to go to that! I was supposed to help cook and decorate!"
The parking lot was full, so Oliver pulled up to the front entrance of the taverna. "I thought Maria told you she didn't want to see you today?" He shut off the bike and propped it before getting off and holding out his hand to Felicity.
She took it, even though she didn't need help. She retrieved his shoes from under the seat and handed them to him.
"True." She paused when she saw the indefinable look of...something on his face. "We're going to sneak up to my place and skip the party," she decided, right then and there.
"I don't think that's going to work, Felicity. Your stairs are visible from the taverna. Someone is going to see us."
"Ah, but there's a back entrance into my place." She winked at him, leading him through the entrance, then immediately left to another door which opened into a stairwell. "Rumor has it the original owner who had the taverna built wanted an apartment above so he could entertain his mistresses throughout the day. Or rather have them entertain him, if you catch my drift. He had the back stairway built so they could get into the apartment unseen."
She felt him press against her when she stopped at the top to open the door, which led into the bedroom hallway, and had barely toed off her flip flops when she found herself pinned against the wall by Oliver's body. He pulled her purse off her shoulder and she heard it fall to the floor with a muffled thud.
"I have to kiss you. Right now," he rasped urgently, his hands cupping her face.
He left her no time to reply, kissing her so thoroughly and deeply she was left breathless and weak-kneed.
"Felicity," he breathed, when he came up for air, nuzzling her jaw. "I've been wanting to do this all day."
"Well." Her voice was unsteady. "That was...unexpected. Really unexpected. And hot. I normally hate that word, but it really fits in this particular situation to a T. Very hot." She took a shaky breath. "Uh, I don't think I stand without the wall holding me up."
"Allow me." He swung her up into his arms and looked down at her with a satisfied smile. "Now what?"
"I think I need a quick nap,' she yawned, squirming to be let down. He set her on her feet and she clung to him until she was sure her legs could carry her weight without folding. "And I know just the place to do it." She took Oliver's hand and led him into her bedroom.
"Not the bed?" he questioned when she bypassed it in favor of the balcony.
"Not the bed," she confirmed, turning right and then right again at the end of the balcony, starting up yet another staircase, a recessed outdoor staircase that led to the roof.
"This house is an endless source of surprises," she heard him say behind her as they emerged onto the flat, tiled roof. Felicity made a beeline for the only piece of furniture up there, a large, weather-beaten wooden trunk.
"Help me," she called to him, opening the trunk and pulling out piles of thick quilts and pillows."Spread the quilts out on top of each other."
She pulled out a cotton sheet that would serve as a blanket and unfolded it, shaking it out, stepping onto the quilts. Sinking to her knees, she stripped off her dress and cast it aside.
A shadow fell over her and she looked up to see him outlined by a fiery sky, looking down at her with a fierce possessiveness, immediately erased from his features when he noticed her looking. She felt suddenly vulnerable, kneeling naked at his feet as she was, but kept her eyes on his.
He stared at her inscrutably for a long moment, then broke the spell, pulling his shirt over his head and stripping out of his jeans and boxers. He stretched out beside her, arranging the pillows beneath his head, and then held out his arm in invitation. She curled up against him, her head resting right above his pec, pulling the sheet over the two of them as he folded his arm around her.
They lay in comfortable silence. Felicity closed her eyes and let herself be lulled by the rhythmic song of the cicadas, the susurration of the shifting waves whispering on the sand, even the laughter and music spilling out of the taverna and up into the evening sky. Loose-limbed, languid and very well loved, she fought sleep, listening to the steady beat of Oliver's heart until she and the sky faded to black.
The moon had risen when she woke up, face down on the quilts. The silence told her the party downstairs was over, so it must have been late. Lifting her head, she turned it on the pillow to face Oliver, or at least the place Oliver should have been.
He wasn't there.
Rolling over and sitting up, she looked around, spotting him immediately, standing by the wall overlooking the ocean. He was still naked, skin gleaming white like marble in the moonlight. While she was appreciating his physique - he looked like a Rodin sculpture- she noticed that there was something off about his posture.
Feeling a sudden chill fall over her, she stood and reached for his dress shirt, pulling it over her head and wrapping her arms around herself in an almost unconscious gesture of self-protection. Giving him a wide berth, she ended up at the wall herself, six or so feet away from him.
His face was turned away from her, but she still saw enough of his profile to confirm her suspicions. Oliver's expression was closed off. He was back in his head, wrestling with who knew what demons. Something must have happened while she was asleep.
Her heart fell. "You're thinking about leaving, aren't you?" she blurted out, the words leaving her mouth before she even realized she'd opened it. He turned, and the surprise on his face told her that he hadn't known she was there.
"No." He spoke softly, looking at her with intense eyes. "Quite the opposite."
She swallowed convulsively. "What do you mean?"
"I'm thinking about staying."
Her heart leaped into her throat. "You mean..." She searched for the right words. "Are you talking about making your home here? With me?"
"Yes, Felicity," he murmured, taking a step toward her. "That's exactly what I mean."