Best Man for the Bridesmaid

“But I did. I was the reason she ran off that night. I didn’t give her any reason to stay. If only I’d...”

“Nothing you could have said would have made a difference. She was only waiting for you to give her a reason to follow through with her threats. She wanted to go.”

“But not that night.” His voice cracked with emotion. “It wasn’t too much later when the phone rang. The car had hydroplaned...Gianna lost control. The...the car went over an embankment.”

How awful. Now Jules understood the shadow that seemed to follow him around and the way he pulled back when he was having a good time.

“It’s not your fault,” she repeated, willing him to believe her. “She knew what she was doing.”

“But she wouldn’t have been out there if I had thought before opening my mouth. I had all of those months to tell her how I was feeling. Why did it have to be that night?”

“Because she was backing you into a corner. She wanted to go, but she just hadn’t worked up the courage to do it.”

“So you agree. I’m responsible—”

“No. That’s not what I’m saying. You’ll never know exactly what she was thinking that night. But she was a grown woman plenty capable of making her own choices and the accident was just that—an accident.”

“They said that she died instantly.” His voice was so soft that she strained to hear him. “The coroner said she was pregnant. She was going to have my baby.” A tear splashed onto his cheek.

Jules leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. At first, he hesitated, and then his body pressed against hers. Her heart was breaking for him. When he finally got himself together, he pulled back. She reluctantly let him go.

She looked into his bloodshot eyes. “And this is the guilt you’ve been carrying around with you, isn’t it? Every time we start to get close, you pull back because you’re still blaming yourself for Gianna and the baby?”

“Yes.” His voice took on a weary, broken tone. “I don’t deserve to have you in my life.”

“I disagree. I think I’m exactly what you need.”

When he glanced at her, she ducked her head and pressed her lips to his. He didn’t move at first. She brushed her mouth over his, hoping he’d respond—that he’d reach out to her. He’d been so alone for so long and piling on the guilt for his wife’s untimely death. She couldn’t imagine what that would feel like. He was a good guy, and he deserved to move on with his life.

His lips moved over hers like a drowning man sucking in some much needed oxygen. He pulled her over onto his lap. His hands on either side of her head. Her hands resting on his powerful shoulders. Lip to lip and tongue to tongue, the love dance of a lifetime started.

At last the wall between them had come crumbling down. Jules knew what she wanted—Stefano. She wanted all of him, his past and his future. She loved him.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“WE SHOULDN’T HAVE done that.” Stefano rushed to button his shirt.

He swore under his breath. Every time he was alone with Jules all his common sense evaporated. Guilt consumed him. He’d meant to explain to her why they couldn’t be together and he’d ended up making love to her instead.

He raked his fingers through his hair. He didn’t dare look at her. It would be so easy to believe this was the beginning of something—not the end of something very special. Wait. Why was she taking this so well? She should be yelling at him—calling him every rotten name in the book. After all, he’d be the first to admit that he deserved it.

Maybe she hadn’t heard him. That had to be it. He opened his mouth to repeat himself, but nothing came out. He pressed his lips together. Deep down he didn’t want to push Jules away—he wanted to pull her close and keep her there. But that was impossible. And now, after reliving how his lack of good judgment had cost Gianna and their unborn child their lives, he couldn’t do the same thing with Jules’s future. He couldn’t let her wreck her future over him.

No matter how much she’d end up hating him, he had to set Jules free. It was for the best. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be. You were amazing.” Jules pulled on her boots and strode over to him. She smiled up at him. “And I—”

He pressed a finger to her soft lips, not letting her finish. He knew what she was going to say, and he didn’t think that he could bear to hear her say again that she loved him. If she uttered those words, he was afraid the last of his resolve would crack, and that couldn’t happen.