Читать книгу Italian Maverick's Collection - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 46

CHAPTER EIGHT

WHAT IN THE world had his brother gotten him into?

Stefano’s feet felt weighted down as he made his way to the florist. The last thing he needed to be doing was escorting Jules around. She made him think things and feel things he shouldn’t. And when she looked at him with those big green eyes, his common sense took a hike. His raging hormones took charge and left him longing to steal a kiss. A long, passionate one.

He was in so much trouble.

He half hoped Jules would already be waiting for him on the sidewalk. They could head back to the villa, and he could lose himself in his work. It’d keep his mind from straying back to Jules’s sultry lips or tempting butterfly. He inwardly groaned.

And no matter what Dante said about his father wanting to get more involved with the business side of things, Stefano had made a lot of changes since his father had last run DeFiore Winery. Stefano was certain he’d have questions.

When Stefano neared the front of the shop, he peered in the big showroom window. Colorful blooms in various arrangements stared back at him, and he saw no sign of Jules making a hasty exit. Could it be that this place lived up to her high standards?

He sighed in relief. Once they placed a quick order, they’d be back on the road. Maybe this day wasn’t going to be a complete waste of time after all.

A little bell above the door chimed as he entered the shop. He was surprised to find so many people inside. There were men with bouquets of long-stemmed red roses. Others had arrangements of pink carnations. And yet another man had a bouquet of lilies, some sort of bright green pom-poms, brilliant pink roses and tiny deep purple flowers. And then there were a cluster of young women pointing at the cooler cases that held a wide array of flowers in black buckets. He couldn’t help but wonder if this place was always this busy. Perhaps he’d gone into the wrong business.

He found Jules at the back of the shop, studying a cooler case of flowers he didn’t recognize. “Did you find what you need?”

“I think so.”

“Good.” This had gone even easier than he’d imagined. “Ready to go?”

“Go? Are you kidding?” When she looked at him with those big green eyes, he could feel himself melting. “I haven’t even talked with a salesperson yet.”

“You haven’t? What have you been doing?” It wasn’t until the words were out of his mouth that he realized how they sounded.

She frowned. “You might get things done by pushing to the front of the line, but there are those of us who believe in waiting our turn.”

His head lowered. She was right. “I just didn’t realize there’d be such a demand for flowers.” Well, he wasn’t going to do any good just standing there taking up space. “It looks like it’s going to be a while. I’ve got some things to do. I’ll be back—”

“You’re leaving me?”

The way she said it made him feel as though he was shirking his duties as best man. “I was just trying to make good use of the time. I don’t know a dandelion from a carnation.”

“You can help me pick out some flowers. Lizzie told me the main flower she wants in her bouquet is a dahlia. If possible it should have a yellow center with deep pink tips. She said they have a sentimental meaning for her and Dante.” Jules shrugged her slender shoulders. “I see that they have some here, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem to get them to order more. I hope.”

“Great. It sounds like you have the flowers all figured out.” He turned toward the door, feeling extremely uncomfortable as a grandmotherly woman gave him a smile and a nod as though she thought that Jules and he were...were a couple. “I’ll just wait outside.”

Jules reached out and caught his arm. “Not so fast. I still need some other flowers to complement the bouquet. I thought about baby’s breath, but everyone uses that. Lizzie needs something different. Something that will make the colors in the bouquet pop. You know this whole thing will be on television. Well, not the whole thing, but highlights of the wedding. And it just has to be perfect.”

Stefano stifled a groan as Jules pulled him around to look at the variety of flowers. Though she mainly wore black and white, she appeared to have a fondness for other colors, too. Interesting.

“I’m sorry it took me a bit to get to you two.” The saleswoman was an older lady who spoke perfect English with an Italian accent. “With summer here, romance is in the air.”

“It certainly is.” Jules smiled broadly. “We’re here to order flowers for a wedding.”

Stefano was caught off guard by the ease of her smile and the twinkle in her eyes. Was it possible that Jules was a closet romantic? She certainly seemed to know enough about this stuff.

The woman’s face lit up. “What do you have in mind?”

Jules turned to him and asked if he’d hold her purse. He quickly scanned the area. Relieved to find no male witnesses, he reached out for the very large black leather purse. He was shocked by its weight. What did she carry in there? Barbells?

He watched as Jules opened her wedding planner and flipped to a page with colorful pictures, but before he could focus in on the images, she lifted the notebook out of his view. Whether it was intentional or not, he didn’t know and he wasn’t about to ask. He didn’t need her thinking that he was interested in any of it. He was doing his duty as best man. Nothing more.

The saleswoman produced various stems of tiny flowers from white to pink to deep purple. In the beginning, Jules would turn to consult him. He generally shrugged and said they were nice. After he kept repeating the same response, she gave up asking for his input, which was fine with him.

“Don’t worry, honey.” The woman patted Jules’s arm. “If it were up to most men, they’d pick some wildflowers from the side of the road as a wedding bouquet. That’s why you have me.”

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate all of your help. And I know it’s short notice, but the wedding is next month. Will we be able to get the flowers in time for the ceremony?”

“Let me check.” The woman pulled out a day planner and Jules read off the date. “Non c’è problema. You two are such a cute couple.” The woman beamed at them.

Without warning, Jules leaned over, wrapped her hands around his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder. His body stiffened. What was she doing? He would have asked, but his heart in his throat kept him from breathing, much less speaking.

“You really think so?” Jules lifted her chin and smiled broadly up at him.

“Oh, definitely. Just wait until you have children. They’ll be real darlings.”

“Hmm...I hadn’t thought about it.”

Jules gave him a quick once-over as though inspecting his physical attributes to see if he would make good father material—a father to their children. When her gaze met his, her lips lifted into a smile that lit up her eyes. His jaw tightened. She was having fun at his expense. But what bothered him the most was he could easily envision a little girl with Jules’s big green eyes—his daughter. He stopped his thoughts from meandering down that dangerous path.

What in the world was going on? He and Jules were barely even friends, much less planning a life together. That was not going to happen.

Jules pulled away. Although he should have felt relieved, he found himself missing her touch. It killed him to admit even to himself, but he’d enjoyed the softness of her hands pressing against his bare arm. The warmth of her gaze was powerful stuff. A man could get swept away and forget all about logic. He’d have to be careful around this one. He wasn’t going to fall in love again. No way. The price was too high.

The saleswoman continued to beam at them. “Don’t you two worry about flowers for your big day. As soon as I looked at you I knew there was a love connection. You’ll make a wonderful bride and groom.”

Stefano cleared his throat, at last feeling as though he’d regained his ability to speak—he must clear up this misunderstanding. He couldn’t continue to play along with Jules’s game any longer.

“We aren’t together.” His voice came out gruff.

Both women turned to him with startled looks. It had to be from the tone of his voice because there was no way that Jules was surprised by his admission. It wasn’t as if she even liked him.

Did she?

“This isn’t for our wedding.” Stefano had to correct the woman since Jules didn’t seem the least bit interested in doing it. He couldn’t let the woman go on about them being such a great couple.

Jules’s perfectly plucked brows drew together into a formidable line and her lush red lips pressed together as though she were holding back a heated reprimand. Let her fume. He’d merely corrected a glaring error. End of story.

The saleswoman’s puzzled gaze moved from him to Jules. “I don’t understand.” The woman’s face took on a very serious expression. “These flowers you’ve picked out, if they aren’t for you two, who are they for?”

Jules sent him a this-is-your-fault look. But he didn’t feel the least bit guilty. Why should he?

She shifted her weight in those sky-high black-heeled boots that made her look as if she’d just stepped out of some rock-and-roll video. Not that he’d watched many. But he had seen a few in his time, and, well, she was definitely gorgeous enough to star in them if only she’d lighten up on the makeup so people could really see her. But right now there was no mistaking that she was upset. Not even that thick makeup could hide her frown lines.

Jules clasped her hands together. “The thing is we’re picking out flowers for another couple.”

“You’re what?” The saleswoman looked taken aback. “Where’s the bride?”

“Working. She had an emergency come up and asked if we’d step in and help with the plans.”

“Will she be in later to approve the order?”

“I’m afraid not.” Jules clenched her hands together.

“I don’t think we can take your order—”

“But you must.” Jules’s voice cracked with emotion. “We’re running out of options. I promise everything will be to the bride’s liking.”

The saleswoman shook her head. “We can’t do it.”

“What’s the big deal?” Stefano came to Jules’s defense. “They’re flowers, for goodness’ sake. They all pretty much look the same except for the colors. And Jules showed you the color of the dresses. Now we’d like to buy some flowers.”

“You might want to, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. Listen, I just got burned on a really big order where the bride was too busy with her dress or some such thing to come in and approve what her mother picked out for the wedding. I’m still sorting out that mess.” She shook her head. “I’m not doing that again. Either the bride comes in or you’ll have to go elsewhere to buy your flowers.”

The woman couldn’t be serious. He glanced at Jules, who looked upset. “Listen here, you can’t do that—”

“What he meant to say is we understand. Thank you so much for your time.” She pulled on his arm to leave.

He refused to be turned away. “I want to talk to the owner.”

The saleswoman pressed her hands to her generous hips. “You’re speaking to her. And it’s time you left.”

“Thanks again.” Jules tugged harder and finally he gave in, letting her lead him from the flower shop. He didn’t know why she was retreating. The woman was there to sell flowers and they were there to buy them, not cater to the woman’s wishes. This was ridiculous.

Once outside and down the sidewalk a ways, Jules spun around and got in his face with her finger pointing at him. Her face was filled with color. Her eyes narrowed on him. This wasn’t going to be pretty. Not at all.

“Do you know what you just did in there?” Her heated tone left no doubt about her agitation.

“Yes, I corrected the woman. You let her think that we were a couple. I couldn’t let her think that.”

“Why? Is it so awful to think that you and I might be involved?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to avoid the curious looks as people passed by. “Can we talk about this later? People are starting to stare.”

“Let them. You owe me some answers.”

“Fine. I don’t like to lie. And letting that woman believe we’re something we’re not was a lie.”

Jules’s gaze narrowed even more. “And you are the pillar of honesty?”

He lowered his head as memories of his not so distant past started to pound him. No, he wasn’t the pillar of anything. In fact, he was the exact opposite. If he’d been more of a proponent of the truth while he was married, he might still be married—well, he wouldn’t go that far. But Gianna would still be alive.

He’d give anything to erase that awful night. Anything at all.

“Lying only leads to regrets.” He looked at Jules. She didn’t seem as hostile now. In fact, the way she was gazing at him it was as if she was trying to read him. “What does any of this matter, anyway? They were just flowers. I’m sure there are lots of other shops that would be more than willing to take our business.”

“Not if you keep shooting your mouth off like that. These people like to know that they are dealing with the person in charge—”

“And that’s you—”

“Not in this case. This is a wedding. The bride is always in charge. It’s her wedding. Her big day. The whole thing revolves around her. And these people have been down the aisle enough times to know how it works.”

“So if that’s the case, why’s Lizzie dumping it all in your lap instead of delaying the wedding?”

“Because she trusts me. We’re the only family each other has. We know each other better than anyone in the world, and she knows that I will plan the perfect wedding for her.”

“I hope you’re right. About knowing her so well.”

Jules’s lips lifted in a small smile. “You don’t have to worry.” She lifted her phone and waved it in his face. “I’ve been texting and sending photos on top of talking to her every day. She’s on top of things. I’m just acting as her mouthpiece.”

That bit of news sent a wave of relief through him. But they still had to find flowers, someplace without such a picky saleswoman.

“Well, Ms. Mouthpiece, any ideas where we should go next?”

“I don’t know. Let me see.” She started typing on her smartphone.

When she turned to start walking, he called out, “You’re going the wrong way.”

She glanced up, confusion reflected in her beautiful eyes. “Oh.”

Quietly they retraced their steps. Her focus was on her phone. And his attention was on keeping her from walking into other pedestrians. When they reached the car, she had another florist for them to try. But it was nearing lunchtime, and he really needed a break before they set out again.

He turned to Jules. “How about lunch?”

“Already?” When she glanced at the time on her phone, her lips formed an O. “I didn’t realize it was so late. Would you mind if we had lunch at Ristorante Massimo? I have a couple of things to go over with Lizzie.”

“Sounds like a plan. Why don’t you call ahead? Dante can have something waiting for us so it won’t take so long. Those two stops this morning took forever. I hope we don’t have to wait that long in the next shop.” He didn’t know if he had the patience for this wedding shopping. It was like watching a grape ripen—painfully slow.

“I hope so, too, or the shopping is going to take us more than a week. And with time being of the essence, we have to move quickly. We still have the cake to pick out.”

“Why didn’t we do that first?”

Jules grinned at him. “Because the cake tasting is the best part of this whole adventure. It’s like a reward.”

He smiled and shook his head. “I don’t know how someone as slender as you can gorge on cake.”

“You just watch, and I’ll show you.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

Jules was a breath of fresh air. She was nothing like the women that lived in the nearby village, who enjoyed a more sedate way of life. And yet she wasn’t like some of the posh urban women who attended the wine-tasting events and were always in such a hurry. Jules had an air about her, but it was all her own.

The more time he spent with her, the more he was beginning to like her—really like her. And that just couldn’t happen.