Page 51 of Tempted Hearts
As if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The touch left me rattled enough to suggest we skip a long dinner in favor of the pizzeria near the hotel. A good call, as it turned out, because even that had me accidentally wondering what we would do tomorrow. Accidentally looking forward to it.
Accidentally, my ass.
Neither of us suggested getting another bottle of wine or another late night on the hotel roof. When I walked Juliette to her room, before there could be any awkwardness, I told her I’d come by to grab her the same time tomorrow.
It was only back in my room, showered and lying on the bed, staring at my ceiling, thinking of the day, that I admitted to myself what I’d known all day.
That had certainly felt like a date, even if it wasn’t. When I’d begun to fantasize about another trip to Italy with her, a more extended one, that had been the moment that scared the shit out of me most.
One more day, and then we’d be heading to Milan, joined by Parker and Delaney.
I just had to hold on for one more day, and then it would be back to Cedar Falls.
Back to normal.
20
JULES
So much for not missing my phone.
When I woke up, after a fitful sleep which included a dream about Cole, I reached for my phone to text Delaney. Of course, there was no phone. No way to get advice. Listen to her, or any of the friends who knew me and Cole Ford, tell me I was an absolute idiot for thinking about him in any way other than a completely off-limits, emotionally unavailable man who I had no business “rescuing” from his self-imposed Manhattan exile.
Just me, myself and I. And according to my therapist, I wasn’t someone I trusted for advice. This time, though, I was gonna have to go it alone. By the time I changed and got ready—if I were smart, I’d be putting on emotional armor, not a sundress—for what Cole and I said would be a final day exploring Monterosso and Manarola, our two favorite Cinque Terre towns, I was mixed on the advice to myself.
Team Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass said to have fun, but not too much fun. Enjoy the day, but no flirting. No points. Nothing but treating Cole like I would Parker or any of the other guys.
But Team “New” Cole reminded me, I didn’t feel about any of the other guys what I felt for Cole. I wasn’t insanely attracted to them or impressed by my own ability to draw them out, however slight a victory. Men like Cole didn’t share their vulnerabilities. And yet…
I jumped. A knock on the door.
Springing from my perch on the edge of the bed, I scanned my appearance in the bedroom mirror for the umpteenth time. A pale-yellow sundress with spaghetti straps, perfect for a day in Italy. It was even worth a strapless bra, I loved this dress so much. With tan leather sandals and a matching tan crossbody, this was my most “Ligurian Coast” outfit yet.
I opened the door.
He was back to wearing tan chinos and leather shoes, a white button-down shirt rolled at the sleeves, but with little pale-yellow dots on the cuff. We were… perfectly coordinated. If he noticed the way we looked together—like a couple—he didn’t show it. But for a second, my stomach flipped hard enough that I had to pretend to adjust my crossbody.
And with the glasses back on, Cole looked not just like an Ivy League professor, but an Italian professor, and a hot one at that.
“Should I change?”
“What?” He appeared genuinely confused. “No,” he added, laughing. “But it is kind of funny.”
It was more than that, but Cole wasn’t as “woo woo” as me, so I kept my mouth shut. But then I remembered what Carolina told me about speaking my truth, no matter the company, so I blurted my thoughts out as we made our way from the hotel.
“Funny,” I said. “Or maybe not a coincidence.”
He held the door open to the lobby. “What does the fact that we inadvertently wore the same shades signify, do you think?”
We greeted the woman at the desk, one I didn’t know, and strolled through the lobby into the courtyard, heading through it to exit the hotel premises.
“Really?” I asked sarcastically. “Are you serious? You can’t guess?”
We headed down the cobblestone alleyway.
“Really. I’m genuinely asking for a friend.”
