here as they want to start filming this week. I’m sorry.”
“Oh. I see.” It was going to be challenging planning a wedding without the bride constantly on hand, but somehow they’d make it work.
“But I do have some notes.” Lizzie rushed back the hallway and soon returned with a notebook. She handed it over. “I wrote out a bunch of ideas and attached pictures I cut out from magazines. How about you look over these and then we’ll talk?”
“Sounds good. But what about your dress? Will you be able to get something in such a short time frame?”
Lizzie sent her a knowing smile. “I had the same worry. I ran out as soon as the studio proposed the idea, and I found exactly what I wanted. It’s being altered right now.”
“Great.” Check the most important item off the list. “Did you happen to find one for me?”
“Actually I found three that will work. All you have to do is try them on and see which looks the best.”
Okay, so maybe this rushed wedding wasn’t going to be as horrible to plan as she’d initially envisioned. It wasn’t like Lizzie would turn into bridezilla or anything. Her foster sister had never been a prima donna.
“Are you sure you won’t stay here?” Lizzie begged her with both word and look. “I was really hoping we could catch up on everything and watch some old movies together.”
If it were only Lizzie in the apartment, she wouldn’t hesitate to stay. But even now she noticed how Dante and Lizzie gravitated together. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. And if she were perfectly honest, she wanted to see the vineyard. From everything she’d heard, it was gorgeous. Who would pass up a chance to stay at an Italian villa?
Once you got past his solemn attitude, her host wasn’t too bad, either. She glanced over at Stefano, who was talking with his brother. Okay, so he was a lot more like droolworthy. Her stomach fluttered. Thankfully the attraction was a one-way avenue. He’d already made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t his type.
She glanced away—but not soon enough. Lizzie raised her eyebrows, followed by a questioning look. Jules rolled her eyes and shook her head. The last thing she needed was Lizzie thinking that she had a thing for Stefano. He was much too serious for her. And she didn’t have time for a guy. She had other things on her mind—like planning a rushed wedding and figuring out what to do with her future once she withdrew from grad school.
“How are things coming with school?” Lizzie stepped closer to her.
“Uh...good.” That was strange. It was as if Lizzie could read her mind. She considered telling Lizzie her decision and getting it over with, but not with the guys in the room. This delicate conversation was going to require some uninterrupted privacy.
“Are you ready to go?” Stefano sent her a direct look that said he wanted to escape honeymoon central.
“Yes, I am. Just let me grab my bag.”
“I’ve got it.” Stefano gripped the handle.
Jules turned back to Lizzie, who had an expectant look on her face. “We’ll talk later. I’m so happy for you. And don’t worry about a thing. I promise we’ll plan the best wedding. Ever.”
Lizzie’s worried expression eased. “Thank you. You’re the best.”
“I’ll remember that you said that.” Jules smiled, so happy to see her sister again. “We have a lot of work ahead of us.”
* * *
What in the world had he been thinking?
Stefano shook his head. Obviously he hadn’t been thinking, at least not clearly. What he knew about playing host wouldn’t even fill up his mother’s thimble—a memento that his father kept on his dresser. And what Stefano knew about making women happy was practically nonexistent. His wife could attest to that—if she were still alive. Guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders.
It was just one more reason that taking Jules home with him wasn’t a good idea. Because once you got past all the makeup and distinctive clothes, there was something special about Jules—something that intrigued him. And that was definitely not a good thing.
But he couldn’t just leave her stranded there with those two. His brother could barely keep his hands off Lizzie. Not that he could blame him.
But there was no way anyone could convince Stefano to stay in that apartment—no matter how spacious it was. There was only so much of that mushy stuff that one could handle. Regardless of his hesitation, Jules didn’t deserve to play the third wheel.
“Thank you.”
Her voice startled him out of his thoughts. “What?”
“Thank you for helping me out back there. I don’t think I could have stood to watch them much longer. Did you ever see such a happy couple?”
He shook his head. At last, they had something in common. “They certainly have it bad for each other.”
“You noticed that, too?”
He nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “What do you think about their rush to say I do?”
“I was beginning to think that Lizzie was never going to settle down with a family of her own, especially after—well, anyway, it’s full steam ahead.”
After what? He wanted to ask, but he didn’t. He just hoped that Dante knew what Jules was referring to. He wasn’t crazy about the rushed engagement and even less so about the hurried wedding. He wished Dante would take his time and give the whole marriage idea more thought.
Perhaps now Stefano wasn’t the only one with reservations. He’d noticed the brief frown that had crossed Jules’s face back at the love nest when she thought no one was looking. Maybe she’d had a change of heart about this whirlwind romance.
Could it be he had an ally—someone who thought the happy couple should slow down and see reason? Sure, the television people were anxious for the wedding. The only thing that mattered to them was their ratings. But marriage was about so much more than a popularity contest. It was a lifelong commitment—one that could have devastating consequences if you weren’t careful.
He cleared his throat. “That sure was a surprise about them pushing the wedding up so far. It’s only a matter of weeks away. I wonder if they’re doing the right thing.”
He took his focus off the road for a moment and glanced over to find Jules studying him suspiciously. Definitely not a good sign. It would seem that he’d read her reactions all wrong.
“What are you worried about?” she asked. “Don’t you like Lizzie? Don’t you think she’s good enough for your brother?”
“Whoa! Slow down. That isn’t what I meant.” Why in the world had he even opened his mouth? He should have just left well enough alone.
He kept glancing between Jules and the road. She crossed her arms and arched a brow at him. She was waiting for an explanation, and he didn’t know exactly what to say. He didn’t want to open his mouth and insert his freshly polished dress shoe. But she didn’t
