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“That would be great.” Since he’d stepped up and picked out one flavor, now it was her turn. “I think the other should be strawberry with the cream cheese.”
The woman started typing in the information. She paused and looked at Stefano. “And the groom’s name?”
Jules wasn’t about to let him mess this up. “The thing is he isn’t exactly the groom.”
“Really?” The woman’s brows rose beneath her bangs. “But you two look so perfect together. I would have sworn—oh, never mind. It’s none of my business. If you’ll just tell me your groom’s name, I’ll put it in the computer.”
She didn’t want the woman to get the wrong idea. “I’m not the bride. We—” Jules pointed back and forth between her and Stefano “—are the maid of honor and the best man.”
The woman’s eyes lit up and the worry lines left her face. “That makes sense, because I could sense that you two are a couple. And quite in love with each other. I can always tell these things.”
Stefano leaned forward and opened his mouth. Before he could utter a single syllable, Jules kicked him under the table. His mouth snapped shut, and his brows drew together as he glared at her. She smiled broadly back at him, hoping to soothe his ruffled feathers.
“Now that we have that straightened out, if you’ll just give me the name of the bride and the groom, we’ll get this order in the system.”
When they finally walked out the door, Jules was amazed at how laid-back and easygoing the woman was about the wedding. She had actually been sympathetic about Lizzie having to work instead of getting the chance to do the actual planning of her wedding.
Now if only everything else would fall into place. And Jules didn’t just mean for the wedding. No, she had something else in mind. A chance for people to see her as something more than a scarred-up goth chick.
But to do that, she’d have to let her guard down. She’d have to do away with the things that after all these years were inherently her. Could she do it? And would it make a difference to Stefano?
CHAPTER TWELVE
WHAT WAS UP with Jules?
More importantly, what was up with him?
Stefano stared blindly at the blinking cursor on the computer monitor. Ever since they’d kissed, things had shifted between them. He’d lost his footing where Jules was concerned. And try as he might to get back to that solid ground of casual acquaintances, he couldn’t quite reach that plateau.
Instead, he’d tried losing himself in his work, like he’d done ever since Gianna’s tragic death, but that wasn’t working, either. His father was quite productive. By the time Stefano got back from his excursions to Rome with Jules, there wasn’t much for him to do, certainly nothing comprehensive requiring his full attention. And time on his hands at this point was not a good thing. All he could think about was kissing Jules. A definite no-no.
Resisting her was getting harder and harder, especially when she slipped her soft hand in his. Did she have any clue what her touch did to him? And then she’d lift her chin and smile up at him, and his heart would careen into his ribs. His common sense fizzled and shorted out. His only saving grace had been that she always pulled away before he could act on his impulses.
With a frustrated sigh, he glanced at the clock, finding it was almost lunchtime. He shut down the computer. It’d been a waste of a morning as he’d barely gotten a thing done for thinking about his beautiful houseguest.
Yesterday after they’d left the bakery, Jules had wanted some time to do a little shopping. He hadn’t minded. He’d needed some time alone before sharing the small confines of the auto with her. He especially needed a break after that lady at the bakery kept going on and on about them being a couple. And it didn’t help that sometimes when Jules turned her green gaze on him, it was as though she was trying to tell him something—as if she wanted more from him than what he could offer her...or anyone.
Or was he seeing what he wanted to see? That thought stopped him in his tracks as he made his way from the barn to the house. Was it possible Jules, with her outrageous makeup and hip clothes, had somehow gotten to him? His steps faltered. After all this time telling himself that he’d had it with love, was he starting to fall for the girl from New York?
He gave his head a shake. Wasn’t going to happen. He resumed his trek to the villa. Suddenly his appetite for lunch had disappeared. All he could think about was Jules and how her green eyes spoke to him—telling him of her past emotional wounds. His gut reaction was to protect her and show her that life didn’t have to be so hard. But how could he do that when he knew for a fact that life was unpredictable and quite unfair?
