Page 60 of Tempted Hearts
“I’d like to think so.”
But clearly, there was much more to this. She knew it. I knew it. Though I suspected I’d scared her away with an accounting of my past relationships—or lack thereof—which had been the point at the time. There was a part of me that wished I’d kept that particular truth to myself.
“Thank you again for coming all the way out here. Talk about turning lemons into lemonade. Delaney said it was like a pre-honeymoon, and I love that. When I get married, I think I want a pre-honeymoon and a post-honeymoon too.”
Thinking about her being married reminded me of Delaney’s comment in the restaurant about the Florentine who’d been hitting on Juliette. Unbidden, a visual of the two of them together flashed across my mind, and the thought sickened me.
I shoved it away.
“Typically, one needs a fiancé to have a pre- or post-honeymoon. Any prospects in that arena?”
Just because the question had been sitting on the tip of my tongue for days didn’t mean it had to come out. But I was curious.
“One. But I’m not sure if it will go anywhere. He’s from the city and has no desire to leave, and I love my hometown. I know that sounds silly—there’s so much else in the world to see and do—but when I come back to Cedar Falls, it’s like being wrapped in a warm blanket. I can’t imagine being away from my family and friends permanently, even if it’s just a few hours away.”
Her answer was so unexpected—Juliette hadn’t mentioned a guy this entire time—that I didn’t know what to say.
“You’re dating someone from the city?”
She shrugged. “His name is Rocco. Nothing serious. He’s an attorney in Brooklyn and just made partner, so I haven’t seen him in two months. I wouldn’t call it dating, exactly. We met at a Christmas-themed bar in Manhattan last year, and I’ve kept in touch.”
The thought of her coming to Manhattan while I was there, to connect with some big-city attorney… it didn’t sit well.
“You never mentioned him.”
It was the most asinine thing to say, as if she should have. But there it was—white-hot jealousy. An entirely useless emotion that served no one. Still, I was self-aware enough not to pretend the idea of her and some other guy, in my backyard, strolling the streets hand in hand didn’t affect me.
Ask a question you didn’t want the answer to, and there you have it.
“I’d ask the same, but I already know the answer.”
“Yeah, you do.”
More Prosecco. New topic.
I took both of our glasses inside, filled them, and returned to the balcony, determined not to let my suddenly bad mood ruin our last few hours in Italy.
I took another sip, grateful for something to do with my hands. The city stretched out in front of us. Juliette leaned her elbows on the balcony railing, glass dangling loosely from her fingers.
“I don’t think I ever told you why I came back after college,” she said after a moment.
“To Cedar Falls?”
She nodded. “People assume sometimes, when you settle back into your small town, it’s because you’re scared. Or don’t want more.” She glanced at me then, eyes steady. “That’s not it.”
I waited.
“I like knowing where I belong,” she said. Her mouth curved into a small smile. “It’s probably why this trip feels so surreal. Like I stepped into someone else’s life for a few days.”
Something about the way she said it—quiet, honest—hit harder than the jealousy had.
“You belong wherever you decide you do,” I said. It wasn’t meant to sound as heavy as it came out, but there it was.
Her gaze softened. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re… untethered.”
That wasn’t true. Or maybe it was, but not in the way she meant.
I shifted closer, close enough that our shoulders almost touched. Close enough that I was aware of her warmth, her presence, the subtle citrus-and-something-else scent of her skin.
