“And others,” RJ said. She picked up a worn book from the metal side table, the one with the sweating glass of lemonade. He should get one of those. “I’m reading the memoir the movie is based on. It’s about this wounded soldier who is rescued by Angelica—he calls her Angel—and of course they’re falling in love—or at least she is, and he’s just realized that her brother is in the resistance.”

“Sounds good.” Yes, he definitely wanted that lemonade. He got up, even as RJ continued talking.

“It is. He doesn’t know it, but hiding in the grotto is a family of Jews needing to escape to the border. But the Nazi’s have taken over the village and are looking for a group of partisans who recently blew up a bridge. Her brother is one of them, and if they find him, they find the Jews. And of course, Fred.”

“Fred?”

“He’s the American soldier. Brave. Handsome.” She looked at him. “Reminds me of someone.”

He’d poured himself the lemonade, was heading back. “I hope you mean me and not Hot Shot over here.”

He meant it as a joke, but Win’s face slacked.

Oops. Too soon maybe. “Just kidding, pal.” He sat down on the chaise, his mouth in a grim line at the silence that dropped between them. “Listen,” he said, not looking at RJ. “I was way…miles out of line dropping you in the pool.” At least he hoped so. Sure, he’d been tired, but he still had a lot of questions about the coincidence of Win’s arrival. He needed to be better about not letting RJ out of his sight. “I thought you were someone else.”

RJ just stared at him. He met her eyes. Yes, he was going with that.

She drew in a breath, then nodded. “There’s this guy that’s been following us…”

Not a lie, but thank you, RJ.

“Still. I overreacted and I’m sorry.”

Winchester glanced at RJ, then back at York. “I guess it’s payback for taking your dinner reservation in Paris.”

York just blinked at him.

“You were going to propose?”

Oh. Right. “Yeah. You jerk.” But he smiled.

Win smiled back.

And so did RJ, and really, that’s all that mattered.

“So, you’re thinking of filming here? Are you directing and starring in it?”

“No.” Winchester shook his head. “I can’t be the lead.”

“Too much work?” RJ asked, picking up her lemonade.

Winchester frowned at her. “No. It’s because Sigfrid Jones was one of the elite Buffalo Soldiers.”

RJ shook her head. “I don’t —”