Best Man for the Bridesmaid

The problems came after they’d married and he’d found out that they wanted different things in life. She wanted excitement and fun. He wanted stability and routine. Where he enjoyed kicking back in front of the large-screen television to watch football, she wanted to dress up and go to the theater. The love they’d initially felt started to dwindle with each passionate disagreement. And then that fateful night.

He couldn’t let the past repeat itself. Though he highly doubted that Jules would take off in his car, he couldn’t take the chance. He couldn’t let this misunderstanding linger between them. There had to be a way to fix what he’d broken. Maybe if he’d have done that with Gianna, she’d still be alive.

When he entered the kitchen, Jules was nowhere to be found. Maria stood at the counter, stirring a pasta salad. She turned to him. It wasn’t often just the two of them stood in the kitchen. He was tempted to ask her if there was something going on between her and his father. He resisted, still unsure how he felt about the idea of them hooking up.

“Did you need something?” Maria wiped her hands on a little white apron trimmed with purple grapes.

“Um, no.” Now wasn’t the time to get into it. He had enough problems on his hands.

“Are you sure? Because if you’re looking for Jules, she tore through here a minute or two ago.” Maria sent him a disapproving look before pointing to the upstairs.

“Thanks. I’ll check on her.” He rushed past Maria and headed for the spiraling staircase. He took the steps two at a time. He didn’t know what he’d say to Jules when he found her. He’d have to wing this one.

* * *

What a fool she’d been.

Jules picked up Apricot and snuggled her nose down into the downy soft fur. A loud purr vibrated through the little kitten’s body. Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

What had she been thinking back there in the field? It was as if she were a kid with the biggest crush in the world. When Stefano had looked at her with desire in his eyes, she’d forgotten everything but feeling the excitement and passion of his lips moving over hers.

Then to have him push away from her and try to dismiss the moment as though it meant nothing hurt more than the rude comments she’d received back in school about her scars. The cruel comments kids threw out about how she was defective and that’s why her own parents didn’t even want her had cut deeply. But Stefano’s actions had surpassed that pain.

Why, oh, why did she ever think that he might be different? Just because his brother had accepted Lizzie with her less-than-stellar past didn’t mean that Stefano would be as open-minded. Sure he said all the right things, but that was just because he was a gentleman. It didn’t mean that everything he said was true—not when it came to her scars or her past.

A knock at her door had Apricot squirming to get out of her hands. Jules moved next to the bed so that the little one would have a soft landing.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Stefano. We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t.” She was being childish, and she knew it. She just didn’t know what to say to him at the moment. Her emotions were raw and conflicting.

“I hope you’re decent because I’m coming in.”

She started for the door, but before she could get to it, it swung open. And there stood Stefano. His large physique filled the doorway. There was no getting past him even if she wanted to. His forehead was creased, and his dark brows were drawn together. His gaze zeroed in on her and made her want to turn away, but she refused to let on how much he’d hurt her.

She leveled her shoulders and crossed her arms. “What do you want?”

“I told you we need to talk.”

“And I told you I don’t want to talk. I...I have stuff to do.”

“Such as?”

“I need to make more paper flowers.” Deciding that it would be good to have something to do with her hands, she moved to the dresser and started gathering the items she’d need.

She heard the door swing shut, followed by his approaching footsteps. His fingers encircled her arm. “Those can wait. This can’t.”

She glanced at his hand on her bare arm and then lifted her chin. “You make it sound like life or death.”

“It could be.” He sighed and shook his head. “I need to apologize.”

“Wait. Why might this be life or death?” What was she missing? Obviously it was something big.

“Because...oh, it doesn’t matter. I want to apologize for kissing you—”

“Why? It isn’t your fault that this—” she pointed to the half-moon scar next to her eye “—is so ugly that it repulses you.” She started to turn away.