infection and would be fine.
Another child, a fragile little angel with the sweetest expression Grace had ever seen, pranced into the kitchen and declared she was “dying for risotto.”
“That’s Emily,” Anna explained. “She wants to be an actress.”
“I think she’s a natural.”
They sat around the huge dining table and ate more food than Grace would have ever thought possible. Johnny Vitelli continued to laugh and hug and beam at everyone. Terry organized the cooking and the presentation of the food. The brothers-in-law greeted Grace with great enthusiasm and teased Nico for being the last single Vitelli.
“Someday,” Ben O’Rourke declared, “you, too, will be changing diapers and coaching soccer.”
“Hopefully not at the same time,” said Jon Nally, little Delia sprawled asleep in his arms, said.
“Though it can be done.” Ben winked at Grace.
She blushed. Nico frowned and didn’t look at all amused. He left her side shortly after that and went over to the stove to oversee the pasta.
Her hostess gifts had been a big hit. Terry gave her a warm hug along with her thanks for the spa time and the candles. Johnny immediately opened his scotch and took a “wee sip,” pronouncing it the best he’d ever tasted. Nico’s sisters were fun and welcoming, the children excited and friendly. Al hid under the table at her feet and Terry urged her to try every dish that was placed on the table. It was chaos and noise and laughter and love.
But the more comfortable she felt, the more she enjoyed his family, the more distant Nico grew. She’d overstepped, she realized. She’d read more into this week than was there.
He felt sorry for the lonely woman he worked with. He was kind and caring—he’d built a ramp for his dog, for heaven’s sake—and that was it.
Here at the Vitellis’ she felt as if she’d come home.
And that was the very worst thing that could have happened this Christmas.
“NICO.” HIS MOTHER was waiting for him when he came inside after cleaning the snow from the car. It was almost five o’clock—time to brave the storm and head down the road to the lodge—though Grace was busy learning how to make risotto with Cathy while Anna read Christmas poems to her.
He hated to leave, but there would be other holidays. Other Christmas Eve parties.
“Mom?” He stomped the snow
She gave him a quick hug. “You’re trying to hide it, but your heart is in your eyes.”
Nico didn’t know what to say. He’d hoped no one would notice. There had already been too many arch looks, too much teasing and too many assumptions. He was afraid Grace would feel trapped.
“She seems lovely,” his mother added.
“She is.”
“Yes. We’re happy you brought her today. When you were in California we worried—well, never mind about that.” His mother patted him on the arm. “Is this serious? Will we see her again?”
“You will, I hope.” He kept his voice low. “I’ve been half in love with her since the first time I saw her.”
Terry shook her head. “You are such a romantic, Nico. So it was love at first sight.”
“Like you and Dad.”
“We were very young,” she said, leading him toward the sound of people laughing and talking over each other in the kitchen. “And very lucky to find each other.”
“Then wish me the same luck,” he said, throwing an arm over her shoulder.
“Always,” his mother said. “And especially with that lovely young woman. I hope we didn’t frighten her off.”
“Me, too,” Nico replied, worried that he’d rushed Grace into an intimacy she wasn’t prepared for. He’d sped up the dating process this afternoon. Heck, he wasn’t even sure if he and Grace were officially “dating,” but in his mind they’d been a couple since she’d fallen into his arms four days ago. Four days. She’d lived at his house, slept with his dog, eaten meals in his kitchen and worked with him to plan a wedding and a shower. They’d also collaborated on events almost daily for months. He’d like to think that counted.
But what if he was wrong?
“IT’S PERFECT,” GRACE assured the bride as she posed in her wedding gown. “You’re perfect. Everything is going to go beautifully, but you absolutely must stop crying.” She handed Noelle another tissue. “Blot, don’t rub.”
“The storm—”
“Hasn’t changed one thing about your wedding.”
“Just the maid of honor. My sister—”
“Is stuck because of the storm, I know,” Grace said soothingly. “But it’s all going to work out.”
“And Ted—”
“Is with Josh, in the Wildwood Room. And they both look handsome and nervous.” Grace had checked the room ten minutes ago. And twenty minutes ago. And forty minutes ago. Lanterns were in place, flowers were where they were supposed to be and the guests were pouring in.
The fire in the fireplace looked picture-perfect.
The music was ready.
“Time to go,” she said, smiling at the recently substituted maid of honor. “She’s all yours.”
The next hour and a half was a blur, leaving Grace little time to run and hide, no spare moments to wonder what on earth she had been thinking, allowing herself to fall in love with Nico Vitelli. It wasn’t until dinner was served and the happy bride and groom were being toasted by the best man that Grace had a chance to retreat to her office and sit down in the dark.
Nico had been busy in the kitchen and hadn’t spoken to her since they returned to the lodge. They asked and answered each other’s event-related questions through Brian, the good-natured waiter who hoped to be promoted next year.
The truth was that Nico had been a good friend and a helpful coworker. He’d kissed her a few times, but she assumed that was his nature. Kissing him and being kissed by him felt natural at the time, but now it just seemed idiotic.
He’d taken care of her when she’d hurt herself in his kitchen. He’d carried her and fed her and even returned her things to her condo. He’d seen her closet and found her red flats with the rhinestone toes. He’d brought her home to his family on Christmas Eve.
Maybe he felt sorry for her because she had no family around.
