Page 71 of Tempted Hearts
“He doesn’t need a fancy school. Just thinks he does.”
Leave it to him to breeze in and out of a conversation, dropping that and walking away.
“He’s right.”
That from the beautiful woman on my right.
Juliette looked fucking incredible. She wore a red sundress that looked somewhere between small-town casual and the last remnant of having just spent a week in Italy.
I was staring at her. Long enough that I’m sure the other guys noticed by now. But it was impossible to look away.
“Do you like teaching?”
“One hell of a question for someone who makes his living as a college professor.”
“It is. But the question stands.”
That was easy. “I do. Sharing my love of history with a new generation who, for the most part, loves it too? Yes, I do.”
She blinked, Juliette’s dark lashes and big brown eyes drawing me in deeper and deeper.
“Would it be just as fulfilling if you weren’t at such a prestigious university?”
I thought about that for a second.
“Sure, it would be fulfilling.”
“There’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”
“Yeah, there is.”
It was the but I wasn’t dying to discuss. “So let’s talk about your manuscript. Tell me more about where you’re stuck.”
By the time we finished talking, Mason had left. We chatted a bit with the musician after his set, and the bar began to clear out.
Even though the night was winding down, I wasn’t ready for it to just yet. When Parker and Delaney decided to leave, I told him I would walk Jules back. I got the look from Parker—not the first since Milan. I’d had to reassure him daily that I wouldn’t break Juliette’s heart, something Delaney seemed to worry about too, and I couldn’t say I blamed her.
“I come here all the time, and I’m only a few blocks away. You don’t have to walk me home.”
I flagged Beck for the check. “Regardless.”
We said our goodbyes, and when I opened the door to the bar, Juliette’s hip brushed mine as she walked by. I sucked in a breath, but that didn’t help. The scent of lemon brought me back to Italy.
To her.
“New scent?”
“It’s the one I got in Riomaggiore.”
“I thought you bought that for your mom?”
I laughed at her guilty look, knowing what had happened to her mother’s gift.
“In my defense, I also got her the pesto and spoon rest in Vernazza.”
I moved my fingers across my mouth. “My lips are sealed.”
“This way,” she said, taking a left.
