"I have to admit," Sofia said proudly, her voice soft with wonder as she gazed at the two men, "I'm impressed. Both my husband and my father are so good in the kitchen. Not every woman can say that."
The long table was glowing with life—platters of grilled meat still steaming, bowls of fruit bright with color, the scent of herbs and smoke mingling with the salty ocean breeze. Beyond them stretched the horizon, the sun dipping low, scattering gold across the waves. It was breathtaking, but to Sofia, nothing compared to the warmth gathered around this table.
Beatrice tilted her head, mischief glinting in her eyes. "Well, now I'm doomed. How can I ever find a husband after this? My standards just shot through the roof."
