to her chest, but the material obscured his view. Just as well. He was better off not thinking of it at all.
Work. Concentrate on today’s tasks.
“I’m heading out to the fields.”
Jules’s eyes lit up. “Are you going to pick grapes? It looks like such fun on television.”
He chuckled. It was refreshing having someone around who didn’t think she was an expert when it came to the vines. “No. It’s not that time of the year. But at harvest time, you’re welcome to come back and join us.”
“Thanks.” The enthusiasm in her voice made him smile. “I just might take you up on the offer. But is it hard to learn?”
“No. Anyone can do it. I’m sure you’ll take right to it.”
Her lips pursed together. “I’ll definitely keep it in mind. Thank you for the invite.”
He mentally kicked himself for extending such a ridiculous invitation. Like she was going to fly all the way back to Italy to pick grapes. Yeah, right. But what if she did? Hope ballooned in his chest, and he immediately squelched it.
“If you aren’t picking grapes, what do you do?”
“There’s always something that needs tending. Right now, I’m going to thin the shoots.”
“Interesting.” Her brows scrunched together. “Sorry. I don’t know much about making wine. Actually I don’t know anything at all about it except how to drink it.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to offer to show her the basics, but spending time with her wasn’t a good idea. Besides, she was only feigning interest in the grapes to be nice. After all, why would this city girl be interested in a bunch of plants? He assured himself that she had plenty of wedding stuff to keep her occupied.
His grandfather shuffled into the kitchen using a walker to assist him. Ever since Nonno had a stroke, forcing him to hand over the reins of Ristorante Massimo to Dante, he’d been living at the villa. Nonno was his mother’s father and the only grandfather Stefano had even known. He loved him dearly and was so relieved to find that Nonno was starting to pull himself out of that dark place he’d briefly visited after being forced into retirement.
Stefano spoke up. “Nonno, this is Jules, Lizzie’s sister. She got in last night. Jules, this is my grandfather, Massimo.”
“I’m old, not deaf.” His grandfather frowned at him before turning a lopsided smile to Jules. “Welcome.”
Stefano smiled and shook his head. His grandfather still had an eye for women. Some things didn’t change. Stefano watched as his grandfather interacted with Jules. The frown lines on his face eased, and that took years off his appearance. Obviously Stefano wasn’t the only one to find a special quality in Jules that made the world a brighter place.
Jules smiled brightly at Nonno. “Lizzie has told me a lot about you, too.”
“All good, I hope.” His grandfather’s speech was still a bit slurred, but Stefano was either getting used to it or his grandfather’s therapy was helping him.
“Only the best. She told me you are quite handsome and a wonderful conversationalist.”
Nonno joined Jules at the table. He reached out and squeezed her hand. Her smile lit up her eyes. Jealousy poked at Stefano. She never smiled that brightly at him. She always remained reserved, as if she were prepared for him to bite her at any moment. And now that his grandfather was there it was as though she’d forgotten he was even in the room.
“Well, I’ll let you eat your breakfast.” Stefano needed to get away—to get some fresh air to clear his thoughts.
His grandfather didn’t say a word as he sipped at his caffè.
At last, Jules turned to Stefano as though she’d just remembered his presence. “I shouldn’t have slept so late. Lizzie will be here at lunch so that we can get started with the wedding plans.”
“Then I’ll leave you to your planning.” He slipped out the door feeling torn between the relief of escaping and the disappointment that he wouldn’t see her again until dinner.
“I WAS BEGINNING to think that I’d never find you.” Jules strode up to Stefano. She’d just about given up when she spotted him checking the vines.
He furrowed his brow. “I thought you’d be inside making wedding plans with Lizzie.”
“She canceled it.”
“The wedding—”
“No. It’s still on.” Heat rushed up and filled Jules’s face. “I meant she canceled our plans for today. She said that she had to stick around the restaurant for a video conference with the people at the studio. Something about finalizing some details for next week’s taping. They sure have a lot of meetings for a reality show.”
Stefano stepped away from the grapevines and joined Jules in the rutted dirt path. “That show seems to take up more and more of their time. When my brother started coming home less and less on the weekends, he blamed it on filming conflicts. Me, personally, I thought it was because he wanted alone time with Lizzie, but it seems now he’s been telling the truth.”
“That’s too bad. But at least they’re happy. And I suppose it won’t last forever. This is their fifteen minutes of fame.”
He dusted his hands off on his faded jeans. “I was just heading back to the barn.”
“The barn?”
He pointed to a large building off in the distance with a stone facade. “It’s where we produce the wine. Beneath it is the barrel cellar.”
“Do you mind if I tag along? There’s something I want to ask you.” Since Lizzie couldn’t drive out to the vineyard, she’d asked if Jules would mind meeting them in Rome the next day. It sounded important, but Lizzie had been very closemouthed and said they’d talk at dinner.
“Sure. Come on.” They fell in step, side by side. “What’s on your mind?”
The thought of begging him for a ride into the city didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t like relying on others. Lizzie had said to bring Stefano along, but with all the work he had to do, would he want to drive all that way just to have dinner? She decided to put off asking him. She was enjoying his good mood, and this was her chance to get to know him a little better.
“It’s big.” She pointed to the wine barn. “Really big.”
“It wasn’t always that size. My father and I have done a lot to expand the business. Although we made a point of keeping the outside looking traditional, the inside has been totally modernized. We want to grow DeFiore winery into a household name. Hopefully it can be passed on from generation to generation.”
“I’m sure your children will appreciate all of your efforts—”
“I
