But Apricot was so easy. She wasn’t stressful. Jules didn’t have to worry about messing her up for the rest of her life.
Jules punched another set of papers. “You don’t want to hear this.”
“Yes, I do. If you’ll tell me.” He sat there holding a stack of deep purple papers in his hand, staring at her with such compassion in his eyes.
What did it matter now if she told him the bitter truth? He knew the answers already; he just hadn’t put it all together. But delving into those deep, dark memories made her heart pinch. It was a subject that she didn’t share with anyone. She’d learned how to push those painful memories to the far recesses of her mind.
So why did she feel the temptation to open up to Stefano? Why did she want him to understand her?
“It’s okay.” His voice was gentle and filled with understanding. “If it’s too painful, you don’t have to say anything. I won’t mention it again.”
He was letting her off the hook just like that, with no probing questions about her scars—no judgments. Stefano was a complex man. She had the feeling he had his own ghosts hanging in the closet.
Maybe he would understand her story.
Her mouth grew dry as she struggled to swallow. “My mother, she...she tried her best. But she was a very unhappy soul. When I was little, my father left us. She did her best to find work, but without much education, her choices were limited and minimum wage doesn’t pay for much. It was a tough life, and she took her frustrations out on me.”
The memories of her childhood came to her in snippets. Flashes of her mother crying. The sense of insecurity. Her stomach growling when she went to bed. Over the years, Jules had tried to forget the details, but some refused to fade away.
Still she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t end up like her mother. She wouldn’t trust her future to a man, only to have him pull the rug out from under her. She wouldn’t take her anger and frustration out on her child. And she wouldn’t just quit on life.
“I’d been removed from my mother’s care a few times. But I was always returned. Each time she promised that she’d get it right. But the last time...” Her voice drifted away as those dark memories resurfaced. “The last time she did this to me.” Jules pointed to her scars.
She couldn’t say any more. She didn’t want to dissolve into a tearful mess. Perhaps she’d kept the memories locked up for too long. Stefano’s presence had her letting down her defenses, leaving her vulnerable to the pain she’d neatly tucked away in the back of her heart.
She swallowed down the lump of emotions. “We should get these flowers done.”
Before she could reach for the papers, Stefano moved to her side. His hands reached out, cupping her shoulders. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. No child should ever go through what you did.”
She glanced away, not wanting to see the sympathy in his eyes. “It was a long time ago.”
“But it still hurts. I know.”
Their gazes collided, sending her heart beating out of control. “You truly get it, don’t you?”
He nodded. “We didn’t have the same sort of childhood, but I know what it’s like to lose a parent and hope they’ll come back. And I know what it’s like to be forgotten by a parent.”
In that moment, she knew that she’d found someone else besides Lizzie who understood her and didn’t judge her by her past. The breath hitched in her throat as her focus slipped to his mouth—his very kissable mouth. She wondered what it’d be like to be held in his strong arms and to have his lips press to hers. Would his kiss be swift and passionate? Or would it be slow and tantalizing?
She didn’t have to wonder any longer as he pulled her close. Her hands grabbed hold of his broad shoulders to steady herself. When his head dipped toward her, her eyelids fluttered closed.
Her heart beat so loudly that it was all she could hear. Could Stefano hear it, too? Did he know how much she wanted him?
And then he was there, pressing his lips to hers. The hunger and need in his kiss answered her questions. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.
He tasted of coffee. Caffeine might provide a jolt of energy, but it didn’t compare with the rush of adrenaline from Stefano’s kiss. A moan swelled in her throat. His touch was so much better than anything she’d conjured up in her imagination.
But this wasn’t right. Getting involved with Stefano would only complicate things. She had to stop before it went any further.
With every bit of willpower she could muster, she pressed her palms to his solid chest. The thump-thump of his heart vibrated through her fingers. Ignoring the delicious sensations that zinged up her arms, she pushed him away.
She looked at him, finding bewilderment in his eyes. Perhaps he, too, was caught off guard by the intensity of that amazing kiss.
“I...I should be going.” Stefano jumped to his feet.
He beat a path through the colorful paper to the door without even a glance back. Why was he acting as though he couldn’t get away from her fast enough? Was she the only one to feel anything? No, she was certain that he’d felt it, too. Then she realized that it must have unnerved him, as well.
Just then Apricot stood up, stretched and gave off a little baby murr. She strolled across the bed to where Jules was leaning against it and rubbed her head against Jules’s hair, which was drying into an unruly mess of spiral curls.
Maybe opening up to him hadn’t been the wisest move. She’d have to be careful going forward and keep a safe distance. Because his kiss was much too tempting, and she might just forget that she wasn’t interested in starting up anything with him.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, Lizzie canceled?”
Stefano’s irritated tone echoed through the car, catching Jules’s full attention.
She turned in her seat, noticing the distinct frown lines marring his face as he skillfully maneuvered them through the busy streets of Rome. Why in the world was he so upset about Lizzie’s change of plans? Or was something else bothering him? Something to do with the kiss that neither dared to mention?
It didn’t matter. She refused to let Lizzie’s call or Stefano’s gloomy mood ruin this day. This was the very best part of planning a wedding—picking out the cake.
“Lizzie mentioned that there is a special party in the dining room tonight and it’s all hands on deck. You should be happy. Your grandfather’s restaurant is thriving again.”
“I am.” Stefano sighed as he slowed to a stop for a red light. “I’ll find a place to turn around and we’ll head back to the vineyard.”
“Why would we do that?”
“Why not? The only reason we were heading into the city was to help the bride pick out a cake.”
“And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
“What?” He chanced a quick glance her way. “You’ve got to be kidding, right?”
“No. I’m quite serious.”
He’d barely spoken to her since they’d kissed two days ago. Was it because she’d pushed him away? Or was it something more? Maybe he wasn’t over the loss of his wife. Jules had spied a snapshot of him and his wife in a collage in Massimo’s room. When she’d mentioned the particular photo, Massimo would only say that Gianna had died a couple of years ago. It made Jules wonder if there was more to the story—more behind Stefano’s hesitation to let himself live again.
From the photo,