Love’s Influence by Tori Alvarez

Chapter 8

“Are you ready for today?”I’m awoken to kisses on my back as a hand lazily kneads my breast.

“Sure. Where are we going?” I push myself back, wanting to feel the warmth of his body.

“Just wear shorts and bring a bathing suit. Did you bring any tennis shoes?”

“I did. Why?”

“That’s all I’m sharing.” He sits up, yawning, “I’m going to get dressed and leave you to it. If you’re done before me, which I doubt, meet me in my room, number 201.”

I climb out of bed as he is dressing and turn on the shower. I hear the door open and close while I am in the bathroom. My mind drifts to last night. Never have I been this obsessed with anyone I’ve ever been with. The sex was good with my exes, and each was attractive in their own way, but with Lorenzo, it’s different. I just can’t seem to get enough of him. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I know our time is fleeting or if it’s just him.

“Where are we headed?”I ask, sitting in the passenger side of his Jeep.

“Lunch.” One word. That’s all he offers me.

“Where?”

His devilish smile lets me know he is not telling me any more. I sip on my iced coffee, listening to the music drifting from the speakers and the wind against the Jeep’s soft top. Lorenzo has made this trip more than I could have imagined. I have enjoyed spending time with him, and I think I’m falling for him.

Problem is, I don’t really know much about him. All I know is what news articles have written or the gossip columns have said, and who knows if those are even true. I want to know Lorenzo, but I’m scared to ruin our day together. If all I have with him is two more days, I want them to be fun. At least I will have this to look back on.

“What are you thinking about?” Lorenzo’s gaze is soft as he brings his hand over and covers mine gently.

I shrug, unwilling to disclose, not wanting to make the day uncomfortable by asking questions he would rather not answer.

“Tell me,” he pushes, squeezing my hand.

“Just… Hmmm…” I pause, wanting to keep this just as it is and also knowing I want to know more. “Just … that I don’t know much about you.” I drop my gaze to my lap wondering what he will think.

“What do you want to know?” he replies right away.

“I don’t know. Just about you.” I’m so taken aback at his willingness to be open that I hadn’t even thought about what I wanted to know.

“What’s really going on?” He hits me with a probing gaze. He picks my hand up, bringing it over to his mouth and kissing it softly, then placing it back in my lap.

“Honestly?”

“Of course.”

He parks, and I look around to find a small pizza joint to my left. The pizza aroma drifting across the street has my stomach growling. It is a small building with many tables outside on a patio and a garage door open to the inside of the building.

“Come on. Let me feed you and you can ask me anything you want.” He cups my chin gently, pulling me into a soft kiss.

We walk into the restaurant. It’s still early for the lunch crowd, so we have the place almost to ourselves. I scan the menu, deciding which pizza I would like to try.

“What pizza did you want?” Lorenzo asks me after the waitress takes our drink order.

“I can’t decide. I love a true, simple pepperoni with black olives and jalapeno, but their specialty supreme looks good too.” Their version of the supreme has ground meat, Canadian bacon, jalapenos, peppers, and olives.

“Then let’s get both.” He places his menu down.

“Do you even like those choices?”

“I do like their supreme, and who doesn’t love the simplicity of a pepperoni?” His smile is comforting.

With our drinks delivered and order placed, Lorenzo places his hand on mine as he tilts his head. “Are you going to tell me exactly why you felt you couldn’t ask me whatever it was you wanted to know?”

His pointed question catches me off guard. I thought I was going to be able to just get to know him, not have to admit why I was nervous about it in the first place.

I take a deep breath, hoping the nerves that had been building since this conversation began leave with the exhale.

“The reason I was unsure about asking you anything is because I have read news articles and other things where you don’t really answer questions. You like to keep your life private. I get that. Of course, I’m curious, but I also didn’t want to pry or ruin today by asking something that would upset you or make the day weird.”

He nods his head slowly a couple of times as his finger taps the table.

“May I ask you something first?” he counters.

“Okay.” I drag out the word.

“Are these questions for you or as an interview for your blog?”

As soon as his question leaves his mouth, I realize my mistake.

My eyes widen, and I quickly try to explain. “For me. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about interviewing you for the blog. I know you,” I lean over the table and bring my voice down to a whisper, “intimately, but I don’t really know anything about you.”

His lips pull out, the relief and misunderstanding gone.

“You are right. I don’t like sharing my personal life with the press. When they interview me, they think that my personal life somehow belongs in the article too. It is my food that needs to be written about, and that’s it. My personal life is just that. Personal for me and those I want to share it with.”

His passion about keeping his life private shows. I’m curious about what has made him so decisive on the subject but don’t want to touch that right now.

“I’ll start with an easy one. Tell me about your family.”

“They’re great. At least now they are.” He pauses. “My dad wanted me to go into the family business. ‘Real estate, son, that is where the money is.’ He wasn’t so keen on his oldest son becoming a chef. But spending so much time with my abuela in the kitchen, I fell in love with foods.”

One question opened the door for me to learn so much about him. Where his passion for cooking came from. The strained relationship with his father that has since been repaired. Their belief in him being more than a local chef. His younger brother working side by side with his father and finding his restaurant locations and buying around them to lease for additional income. His mom’s support, even when he and his dad were at odds.

When the pizzas come, he helps me set the table for a couple of quick pictures. He even takes a couple of pictures of me biting into the pizza.

We take our time, enjoying a leisurely lunch, before he notices the time.

“Crap. We need to get going or we’re going to be late.” He takes out his wallet and places cash on the table. He stands extending his hand out to me. I grab it, wondering where our next location will be.

Back on the county highway, the silence is comfortable.

“You know I didn’t think to ask you, but are you scared of heights?” His voice is a tad shaky.

“No. Why?” I tilt my head to the side.

“No reason. Just getting to know you.” His fingers begin to tap on the steering wheel with the beat of the music.

He pulls off the highway to a dirt road and a large sign that says “Hill Country Zip Lining” greets us.

“We are zip lining?”

“Yes.” He watches me for a moment before looking back at the road.

“Okay,” I respond excitedly.

After a quick safety class, we are geared up and ready to go. Learning my hands will be busy working up on the lines, I sigh while placing my phone in one of their lockers.

“Hey,” Lorenzo breaks through my disappointment. I look to him, and he is smiling like the cat that ate the canary.

“What?” My eyes narrow.

“I saw the look on your face when you stuck your phone in your locker.” His lips purse together tightly holding a laugh that’s at my expense.

“Sorry.” I shrug my shoulders and take a deep breath. My damn phone and wanting to document everything for the stupid blog has yet again put a block between me and the person I’m supposed to be enjoying.

“Don’t be sorry. I brought you here because I wanted you to experience this. Especially if you hadn’t before.” He brings his hand out from the backpack he is carrying, and in it is a GoPro camera. “I think this will help solve the no-phone-camera predicament.”

My eyes widen in surprise. “Are you serious right now!” I bounce up and down like a child.

“Of course.” Lorenzo moves in closer to me wrapping his free arm behind my back and kissing me firmly, but much too quickly. “Come on, let’s not hold the group up.” He smacks my behind before tucking his backpack in the locker.

He shares his plan with me. “We can take turns wearing it so I can get video and pics of you while you are on the line.”

All I can do is nod and smile at his thoughtfulness. No one I have dated before has ever put any thought into my hobby or helped with it at all. All the past guys have done is complain about the time and attention it has taken away from them.

Up on the first platform, with trees and land as far as the eye can see, my chest tightens. As excited as I was just moments before, that anticipation has morphed into doubt.

“Hey. Look at me.” Lorenzo stands in front of me rubbing his hands up and down my arms. My gaze finds his. “If you don’t want to do this, we won’t. You tell me.”

I take a shaky breath in, knowing I want to, but scared just the same. His hands slide up my arms, landing on my neck. He leans down, but before his lips can meet mine, our helmets bump. I couldn’t help it, a laugh escapes, helping to ease the nerves.

“I can do this,” I finally answer.

“I’ll be right behind you.” He puckers his lips, blowing a kiss this time.

“I’m next,” I announce to the guides.

They move my clip and tell me, “Sit back when you’re ready.”

I take a deep breath, scan the vast area in front of me, lift my legs to sit back, and let go. The wind against me, watching the tops of the trees below, the sky above, the peacefulness; it’s all amazing. A calm settles over me.

Seeing the platform come into view, I place my hand up, like we were taught, to begin slowing down. An adrenaline rush fills every part of my body like I have never felt before.

Platform to platform I ride through the hills and trees. Each time Lorenzo meets me and holds me until it’s my turn again. It’s a strange combination to feel so safe but fearful at the same time. This adventure is bringing the feelings that are growing for Lorenzo front and center. Will this become a memory after Friday? That thought is too depressing to consider right now, so I push it to the back of my mind. I can’t think about that right now.

“Where are we heading now?”The adrenaline from the adventure is slowly departing my body as Lorenzo drives us to our next destination.

“Now, we will need our bathing suits. When I stop for some gas and snacks, we can change in their restrooms.” His eyes are glued to the road in front of him, not giving me any more information on the where portion of my question. Knowing he won’t share more, I turn up the radio and settle in for the ride. If today has proven anything, it’s that he can take me anywhere and I will love it.

He parks by a gas pump, but the store attached does not look like the typical gas station dive market. As soon as I walk in, I am in awe of the selection of snacks and drinks. It’s a clean, upscale store catering to people who are driving through wine country. All sorts of premade charcuterie boards; small bags of nuts, chips, and crackers; fresh fruit and sandwiches are available. They have a nice selection of local wines to purchase. The store is compact but perfect for the area. I take a few pictures of the displays before heading to the restroom to change.

Back in the Jeep, I tell Lorenzo, “That store is amazing. Those owners had the right idea.”

“It is. It’s pretty new. Just been over a year since it opened. They are getting great business because their prices are reasonable. What they lack in price-jacking, they make up for in volume. It really is a great concept.”

He pulls onto a dirt road that is unmarked and barely visible. Wanting to be surprised by the destination is at odds with the curiosity brewing about our where we are headed. I look around as we drive through brush on a road that is all of two ruts in the dirt. There is only space for one car to drive through. This may be the best surprise or a romance murder for whatever new crime show is now airing.

After a couple more minutes of driving, a small river and a clearing come into view.

“A friend in town showed me this place, and I thought you would like it. Not sure if it’s public property or not, but the few times I’ve been here, there is never anyone else around. And he’s been coming here for years, bringing his family to get away. Your own piece of quiet heaven.”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” I don’t know why I’m surprised by this. Since we met all I’ve seen is him being amazing.

“Come on.” He turns the ignition off and jumps out of the Jeep.

I follow his lead and pull off the sundress I placed over my bathing suit and follow him to the water’s edge. He pulls me behind him as he walks to the center. This is the perfect spot. The water is deep enough to enjoy, unlike some places in the river where the water only runs knee deep, or the opposite, where it’s too deep with a strong current.

The water is perfect, not too warm since it’s still early in the season. He pulls me against his body, his hands gliding over my back as he holds me tightly. I see uncertainty and questions in his eyes. I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing I am. Does he not want this to end either? Too scared to ask, I meet my lips to his, avoiding what could possibly turn into a painful discussion. There is no reason to ruin this perfect day with a conversation about a future when his is here, at least for the next few months, and mine is in the city. We are both very busy individuals; I don’t know why I began to let myself think there could be something more.

My kiss is desperate; I want to make the most of the time we have left. I wrap my legs around his waist as my hands come up to comb through his messy, dark hair. He pulls us down into the water submerging our heads. He brings us back up, smiling.

“While I would love to fuck you, doing it in the river isn’t top of my list.” He winks at me playfully.

I can’t keep from laughing, almost ashamed at wanting him so desperately. Almost. And I would be if I thought he didn’t want me as much in return.

After some fun and playfulness in the water, Lorenzo begins walking closer to the shore with me wrapped around him.

“Come on.” He taps my thigh, so I untangle my legs and stand up, knowing we would end up falling down if he tried to carry me out of the water. The slippery stones and tree roots close to the river’s edge are hazardous.

He leads us out, and I can’t help but admire his body, dripping wet and glistening in the late sun. Toned and tattooed, not what I envision a chef to look like. He pulls a towel out of the back of his Jeep, wrapping it around my shoulders. He pulls another for himself before spreading out a blanket on the ground for us. I sit down on the blanket as he collects the bag of snacks and a bottle of wine from the back.

“Do you want your camera?” he asks.

“That would be great thanks.” I answer, surprised I hadn’t thought about taking pictures.

He thought of everything today. This has honestly been the best date I have ever been on. My mind still reeling, I wonder what will happen when I leave for the city the day after tomorrow.

Lorenzo places everything down and gets comfortable.

“Hungry?”

“Yes, thank you.” I spread my lips in what I hope to be a genuine smile. I don’t want to add pressure where none needs to be.

He opens all the different packages of items we bought before pulling the cork on the chilled bottle of rosé. He pours two glasses and hands one to me.

Clinking his glass to mine he says, “To the perfect day.”

My heart skips a beat hearing him say what has been going through my mind. “Yes, thank you. It was a perfect day.”

Lorenzo picks up my camera. “Do you mind?”

“No. Go right ahead.”

I watch him stand up and take a couple of pictures of the river. Then he backs up toward the car and points the camera in my direction.

“What are you doing?” I laugh at him.

“Taking a picture of the most beautiful thing here.” The sincerity in his voice stirs my nervous jitters.

“Look toward the river like you were doing,” he directs me.

I do as he says and look away from him. I can hear him moving about behind me. I wonder how many he’s taking. He comes back, sitting on the blanket and picking up a piece of the port wine cheese and popping it into his mouth.

“I can’t wait to see what you do with your blog posts. Have your first ideas of organization changed much?”

“Thanks!” I’m flattered, and I have a feeling he means it and will be reading what I post. “No. I think I like my original idea of breaking it into pieces. Since Carson extended the reservation for my room for free, I will be showcasing the resort first. Lots of notes, but I need to pull it all together because I want to be able to upload it on Sunday morning.”

“You know you have an eye for this. I’m surprised you don’t work for some publication doing this full-time.”

“I started teaching before this became a passion. Now I feel guilty leaving my kids.” There have been dreams to look around and maybe find a full-time job in the travel industry, but then fear takes over, and I stay put. “How about you? Any dreams of opening any more restaurants?”

“Always, but only one at a time.” He smiles softly. “I don’t want to move too fast and have the ones working slip because I don’t give them the attention they need. It’s a balance, and I’m not sure I have it all down yet. It has been hard leaving my two restaurants in the city unsupervised while I spend my time here. It was difficult finding chefs to come out to a small town. That will be the tricky part. David will eventually take over this kitchen when I go back, but if he begins looking for a restaurant with more clout and in a city after a year, I’ll be back to train a new head chef. I thought long and hard before partnering with Daré alla Lucé. I’ll need this one to be going smoothly for at least a couple of years before I consider opening another.”

“Wow. I knew the restaurant business was hard, but there is so much to consider other than just the food.” I’m enlightened by all this new information.

His hand cups the side of my face as his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. “What’s going through that gorgeous head of yours?”

“You have shared so much with me. Even knowing that I will be writing something up about you and your restaurant. Thank you for trusting me.” I never want to break the connection we have.

“I trust you.” He comes in, kissing me gently.