see your helper faded away.”
“Apricot wore herself out chasing the paper and then sliding across the floor. When she got bored of that I rolled a piece into a ball. She batted it everywhere until at last it went under the bed. Instead of going after it, she clawed her way up the bedspread and laid down.”
There in the middle of her bed, in a pink fuzzy blanket Jules had bundled up into a circle with a divot in the middle, was Apricot—belly up and sound asleep. The kitten was so sweet. She didn’t know how she’d ever leave her behind.
“Seems as if she couldn’t be happier.” He turned back to Jules. “You’re really good with her. Someday you’ll make a great mother.”
“It’s not going to happen.”
She waited, but he didn’t say anything else on the matter.
Deep inside she wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that she could someday be a mom. Lizzie wasn’t the only one who’d dreamed of having her own family. But knowing she wasn’t cut out to raise children, Jules had turned her focus to social work. She thought she could care for the kids from a distance. Until she’d found out that she was unable to maintain a professional distance. Frustration knotted her stomach.
Stefano made himself comfortable on the floor and started to gather a stack of papers. “So how do you do this?”
“You really want to make a flower?” She surely hadn’t heard him correctly. There was nothing about this jean-clad, muscle-bound businessman that said he had a crafty bone in his body.
“Of course I do. I told you that I would do everything I could to help with this wedding. Speaking of which, I ordered those wedding favors.”
“You did?”
He nodded. “You wouldn’t believe all of the party favors they offer. I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered a few other things. Of course, you get final approval.”
Impressed with his new attitude toward the wedding, she sat down next to him. “Thank you. I can’t wait to see them.”
She went on to instruct him about making flowers by taking eight sheets of tissue paper and aligning them with the round paper cutter. For a while she gave him her undivided attention, but he was a quick learner. His flower wasn’t perfect, but it impressed her—he impressed her. It wasn’t just his flair for crafts, but his ability to put aside his misgivings about the wedding for his brother’s happiness.
“Not exactly like your flowers,” he said, surveying his rather limp effort.
“But not bad for your first try.” She gave him some pointers, and he tried again.
“That’s better.”
“Yes, it is.”
He turned to her. “Now that I have this flower stuff figured out, how about you tell me more about your decision not to have a family? I see the motherly instincts come out in you every time you gather that little bundle of fur in your hands.”
But Apricot was so easy. She wasn’t stressful. Jules didn’t have to worry about messing her up for the rest of her life.
Jules punched another set of papers. “You don’t want to hear this.”
“Yes, I do. If you’ll tell me.” He sat there holding a stack of deep purple papers in his hand, staring at her with such compassion in his eyes.
What did it matter now if she told him the bitter truth? He knew the answers already; he just hadn’t put it all together. But delving into those deep, dark memories made her heart pinch. It was a subject that she didn’t share with anyone. She’d learned how to push those painful memories to the far recesses of her mind.
So why did she feel the temptation to open up to Stefano? Why did she want him to understand her?
“It’s okay.” His voice was gentle and filled with understanding. “If it’s too painful, you don’t have to say anything. I won’t mention it again.”
He was letting her off the hook just like that, with no probing questions about her scars—no judgments. Stefano was a complex man. She had the feeling he had his own ghosts hanging in the closet.
Maybe he would understand her story.
Her mouth grew dry as she struggled to swallow. “My mother, she...she tried her best. But she was a very unhappy soul. When I was little, my father left us. She did her best to find work, but without much education, her choices were limited and minimum wage doesn’t pay for much. It was a tough life, and she took her frustrations out on me.”
The memories of her childhood came to her in snippets. Flashes of her mother crying. The sense of insecurity. Her stomach growling when she went to bed. Over the years, Jules had tried to forget the details, but some refused to fade away.
Still she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t end up like her mother. She wouldn’t trust her future to a man, only to have him pull the rug out from under her. She wouldn’t take her anger and frustration out on her child. And she wouldn’t just quit on life.
“I’d been removed from my mother’s care a few times. But I was always returned. Each time she promised that she’d get it right. But the last time...” Her voice drifted away as those dark memories resurfaced. “The last time she did this to me.” Jules pointed to her scars.
She couldn’t say any more. She didn’t want to dissolve into a tearful mess. Perhaps she’d kept the memories locked up for too long. Stefano’s presence had her letting down her defenses, leaving her vulnerable to the pain she’d neatly tucked away in the back of her heart.
She swallowed down the lump of emotions. “We should get these flowers done.”
Before she could reach for the papers, Stefano moved to her side. His hands reached out, cupping her shoulders. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. No child should ever go through what you did.”
She glanced away, not wanting to see the sympathy in his eyes. “It was a long time ago.”
“But it still hurts. I know.”
Their gazes collided, sending her heart beating out of control. “You truly get it, don’t you?”
He nodded. “We didn’t have the same sort of childhood, but I know what it’s like to lose a parent and hope they’ll come back. And I know what it’s like to be forgotten by a parent.”
In that moment, she knew that she’d found someone else besides Lizzie who understood her and didn’t judge her by her past. The breath hitched in her throat as her focus slipped to his mouth—his very kissable mouth. She wondered what it’d be like to be held in his strong arms and to have his lips press to hers. Would his kiss be swift and passionate? Or would it be slow and tantalizing?
She didn’t have to wonder any longer as he pulled her close. Her hands grabbed hold of his broad shoulders to steady herself. When his head dipped toward her, her eyelids fluttered closed.
Her heart beat so loudly that it was all she could hear. Could Stefano hear it, too? Did he know how much she wanted him?
And
