Best Man for the Bridesmaid

Her footsteps were muffled by the grass. “Sounds exciting.”

“You think so?”

“I do. I love the vineyard. I’m sure others will love it, too. It’s so peaceful and relaxing. I can see why you stayed on and continue to work with your father.”

“But surely you wouldn’t do the same thing if roles were reversed.” She was a city girl, born and bred. The tranquility was just a novelty thing. Sooner or later she’d want to move on...just like his late wife.

“I could definitely see me living here. In another world, I’d have a big family with lots of room for the kids to play. And cats. And dogs. And maybe a horse or two.”

“Talk about a menagerie. Are you sure you’d be up for all of that?”

She shrugged. “It isn’t like it’s ever going to happen. I don’t live here, and as you well know I’m not exactly the poster girl for motherhood. But sometimes it’s nice to dream.”

“I don’t see why you have to dream when you can make it a reality. Well, at least the part of being a mother and having a menagerie of cats and dogs.”

She stopped and stared up at him. “Look at me.”

He did as she asked. His heart started to pound again. He held his body rigid, resisting the urge to pull her close. He recalled vividly how soft her curves were, and his resolve wavered.

“No, really look at me.” Her serious tone snapped him to attention. “What do you see?”

“I see your beautiful face without all of that makeup.”

“I didn’t see much point in it without air-conditioning. I end up wiping most of it off throughout the day.”

“That’s good.” When her brows lifted in a questioning fashion, he added, “I mean it’s good that you gave up on the makeup. You don’t need it.”

The truth was that she was even more beautiful without it. She had such a fresh young face, and it needed no enhancement at all. He was captivated by her natural beauty. And with her hair loose and blowing in the breeze, she had a down-to-earth appeal. No longer did she look like she’d just walked off a rock video. Now she looked like someone who might actually belong in his world. But part of him missed her hip, chic look. That in and of itself surprised him.

Her head tilted to the side, but her gaze never left his. “What are you thinking?”

He hadn’t realized he’d gotten so caught up in his thoughts. “I was thinking about you.”

“And what did you decide?”

“That you are beautiful.” He looked deep into her eyes and saw disbelief. He’d have to prove it to her. “Your green eyes are a shade or two deeper than the grape leaves. And your long, dark lashes make your eyes very alluring. Your skin is smooth and makes me long to run my fingers down its velvety softness.”

Color rose in her cheeks. “You’re missing the point. The scars. You can’t miss them. And they’re ugly.”

“They aren’t ugly. You aren’t ugly.”

She shook her head. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m speaking the truth.” He desperately wanted her to believe him.

“No, you aren’t.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “I didn’t tell you the details before, maybe I should now. Maybe then you’ll understand why I find the scars so ugly.”

He opened his mouth to protest but then closed it without saying a word. Perhaps talking about it would be good for her.

“I told you that my mother did this to me, but what I didn’t tell you was that it was during one of her drunken bouts. She was angry because she’d run out of vodka. I was on my way home from playing with the neighbor. She smacked me and I lost my balance at the top of the porch steps. Down I went, hitting...hitting my head on the edge of the steps and landing on the cement sidewalk.”

Stefano clenched his hands. How could a mother do that to her own child? It was inconceivable. And yet the only words he could find to convey his sympathy seemed so inadequate. And it really didn’t matter because no words could make up for what she’d experienced at the hand of the one person who was supposed to love and protect her.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was the best thing to happen to me.” Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears, but she kept it together. “When I lived with my mother, there was never enough to eat. Rarely was there clean laundry. And the longer it went on, the meaner she became. If they hadn’t taken me away, I’d have never met Lizzie.” Jules stopped and drew in an uneven breath. “My mother wasn’t strong enough to take care of both of us. Eventually she turned to drugs and OD’d. Now do you finally understand why I shouldn’t be a mother?”