clothes were quite modest and not the least bit showy. She was the quintessential wholesome, modest wife—something Jules would never be.
For the first time ever, Jules wanted to change. She wanted to be the woman who could make a simple dress look amazing. She wanted to be comfortable in her own skin and not feel the need to hide behind a wall of makeup. But more than anything she wanted a man to look at her with love and desire like Stefano had been looking at his wife in the photo. Correction: she wanted Stefano to look at her that way. But that was never going to happen.
Now he barely glanced her way—not since she’d lost her head and let things go too far. She missed the friendship they’d been building. If only she could undo that moment.
She couldn’t let that stand between them doing their duty as maid of honor and best man. She was a grown-up, and so was he. They could move past this. Somehow.
She swallowed her uneasiness and hoped her voice would sound more confident than she felt inside. “We promised to do everything we could to make this wedding a success. Can you still do that?”
“But it’s their wedding, not ours.”
Jules’s mouth opened but nothing came out. Him mentioning them and a wedding all in the same sentence caught her off guard. She wondered if it was unintentional, or if his thoughts had been straying back to the brief but heated kiss they’d shared.
His knuckles gleamed white as he gripped the steering wheel. “You know what I mean.” His body visibly stiffened. “Not that you and I are getting married—I mean not that we’re even involved—”
“It’s okay. I know what you mean.” She watched as the tension eased out of his shoulders. “But that doesn’t change things. We still have to do this for Lizzie and Dante.”
“I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Trust me. I do.” She grabbed her wedding planner from her purse and perused the photos of cakes that Lizzie preferred. “I know what she likes. Trust me.”
“You keep saying that, but I just don’t know.”
“If it makes you feel any better, Lizzie picked out photos of cakes. We weren’t sure what the baker could produce on such short notice, so I had her line up her choices in order of what she liked best.” Jules flipped to the section where she’d taped the pictures of the cakes. “None of these look too elaborate.”
“If you say so. Now where exactly am I supposed to be going?”
She read off the directions to the first bakery. While he navigated the congested roadway, she settled back in the comfortable leather seat and thumbed through her organizer. There was still so much to do for this quickly approaching wedding, but it was her escort that kept distracting her. The memory of his kiss was always lurking at the edge of her thoughts. Why couldn’t she forget it? Why did this one have to stand out in her mind?
Going forward, she had to be careful not to let it happen again. These DeFiore men came armed with irresistible smiles, alluring dark eyes that drew you in, and when they talked to you, it was as if you were the only person that existed. Lizzie had already fallen hook, line and sinker. But Jules was smarter than that. She wasn’t going to let her heart do the thinking for her. She knew too well that the L word wasn’t enough.
Her father had told her that he loved her and that he was doing what was best for her. Then he’d left. She never saw him again. It wasn’t until she was a teenager that she learned he’d died in an auto accident. Then there was her mother, who would tell her that she loved her, but when times got tough, her temper would flare and she’d turn to alcohol.
If that was love, she didn’t want any part of it. Growing up, Jules and Lizzie never talked about love. They both quietly acknowledged that they cherished each other like sisters but neither could bring themselves to say the L word. It was as if vocalizing the emotion would jinx their entire relationship. Jules had since avoided the word altogether.
Jules was grateful for the distraction as they pulled up to Sweet Things Bakery. Her anticipation was short-lived—they were booked. Soon they found that Spagnoli’s Bakery, Antonio’s Bake Shop and Cake Haven were also booked. Weddings were a big business. And it was first come, first served.
“This isn’t looking too good.” Stefano started the car.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
He glanced at her with surprise written all over his face. And then, instead of grouching at her, he started to laugh. And laugh. To be honest, she didn’t know what there was to laugh about. How in the world were they supposed to have a wedding without a cake?
Stefano gathered himself. “So how are you at baking?”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” He was kidding, wasn’t he? She looked him in the eyes and saw a glint of seriousness. “I’m awful. I can’t even make a box cake, not without it falling. My baking skills are not pretty at all. We have to find a bakery to do the wedding cake, even if it means visiting every single bakery in this city.”
When they pulled up in front of Tortino Paradiso—Cupcake Heaven—Jules knew they were in the right place. It may not be the wedding cake that Lizzie was dreaming of. But in times of desperation, there had to be compromises.
The building was a dark-chocolate brick. The striped awning was the color of pink-and-pearl-white frosting. And the large windows held various cupcake towers as well as cupcakes displayed in the shape of a smiley face. The display that truly caught Jules’s attention was one of cupcakes decorated as various brightly colored flowers and placed in a garden setting with a white picket fence. It was detailed, imaginative and fun. The bakery radiated a sense of cheerful creativity where the sky was the limit.
“This is it!”
Stefano turned a puzzled look her way. “This is what?”
“This is the place where we’ll find Lizzie and Dante’s cake.”
“Maybe your Italian isn’t so good. This is a cupcake shop. I don’t think that’s what they had in mind for their wedding cake.”
“Just trust me.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
She jumped out of the car before Stefano could say more. She pulled off her sunglasses and smiled at a customer who’d just exited the bakery. In their hand was a cute bag with the picture of a chocolate cupcake with pink frosting on the front. It appeared that this place was all about the details. Now they had to pass one last test—the taste test.
Stefano rounded the car and joined her on the sidewalk. She leaned toward him and whispered, “Just follow my lead. Or else.”
Without waiting for his response, she reached out and slid her hand in his. Goose bumps raced up her arm, and a warm sensation swirled in her chest. She resisted the urge to glance his way to see if he noticed her reaction to his touch. She willed herself to breath regularly and act nonchalant. She assured herself that the reaction had nothing to do with that much-too-short kiss.
“Is this really necessary?” He glanced down at their clasped hands, but he didn’t pull away.
“Most definitely.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m not about to let this place slip through our fingers. So to speak.”
“Shouldn’t you call Lizzie and let her know what you have in mind?”
“I will.”
“When?”
“When I know that this place can fit the wedding on their calendar. Otherwise there’s no point in consulting Lizzie. She may not be here, but she’s still the bride and brides do get nervous. If she knew how many bakeries had turned us away, she’d start to panic. Is that what you want?”
“No, but—”
“That’s what I thought. Now let’s get moving. The only way to find