Page 55 of Tempted Hearts
“Your gut. On point. The body remembers things the mind doesn’t.”
Juliette laid her head against the headrest. “Tell me about that.”
In addition to being utterly outrageous, Juliette was also just as curious. She always wanted to dig deeper. Know more. It wasn’t my area of expertise, but I shared what little knowledge I had and recommended a book she might like. The Milan station was upon us in no time.
Making our way from the platform, through the most architecturally beautiful train station in Italy, we grabbed a car and, before long, had pulled up to the hotel. It was called The Plein, and the only reason we were staying there before our flight out in the morning was because Delaney had the same credit card I did, one that offered a free night once a year anywhere in the world. No restrictions.
“I can’t believe people actually pay over a thousand dollars a night to stay in a hotel. Imagine having that much money?” Juliette asked as our bags were whisked away upon stepping into the lobby.
It was as lush and ornate as Parker said. He and Delaney were already here, having arrived an hour ago.
“Buongiorno,” I said to the hotel clerk. “We are meeting two other guests here. They are in the courtyard, I believe?”
“Sì, Signore Ford e Signorina Porter. Welcome to The Plein. Your traveling party has already arrived and checked in. If Signore Ford wishes to do so as well, Signorina Porter may join the others this way.” He gestured elegantly through a set of doors at least twenty feet tall. “For a welcome Prosecco in the courtyard.Sì?”
I snuck a peek behind me as Juliette walked away, fairly certain the clerk caught me. I checked in and joined the others. The courtyard felt unreal—walls covered in pink blooms and green ivy, candlelight catching on stone and water—too beautiful, too intimate for a stopover night. It struck me then that places like this didn’t just invite romance; they assumed it.
“Hey.” Parker stood and shook my hand. Delaney stood as well, hugging me. I sat, joining the three who were well on their way to finishing the welcome drink. “Jules was telling us a little bit about your time in Cinque Terre.”
I listened as she finished her story, cataloging the omissions—the brush of her fingers against mine that sparked something electric, the pauses that had felt heavier than words, the moments that hadn’t made it into her version at all.
Juliette sharing her dream of becoming a mystery author.
Me, sharing Caleb’s story.
“You had a good time I take it?” Delaney asked me.
Everyone waited.
Good? That wasn’t the word I’d use to describe these past few days.
“I did. Can’t say I’m disappointed, having accompanied you,” I said to Parker.
We listened to details of the remainder of their time in Florence until a hotel attendant told us our bags were in the room.
“What number are you in?” Parker asked me. “Do you want me to bring my stuff to yours?”
I’m not switching.
It was a wild, reckless thought. I was the one who’d moved out of Juliette’s room in Monterosso, for good reason.
Don’t do it, Cole.
“We don’t have to switch. I was able to get a double-bedroom. What’s your bed situation?”
Delaney and Parker exchanged a look that was anything but subtle.
“A king,” Delaney said, hesitantly.
“You kids enjoy that. We shared a room that first night.” I glanced at Juliette. “And didn’t kill each other. Right,monella?”
Fuck. That slipped.
“Monella?” Delaney asked.
For her part, Juliette appeared completely neutral. But she wasn’t. Her leg bounced up and down below the table. She blinked more. I’d thrown her off, but wasn’t sorry for it.
The gloves were off.
