She could feel it in her heart and soul.
The wall she’d spent so many years building and fortifying to safeguard her heart began to crumble, but the fear of trusting someone was still polarizing. Her thoughts were lost to the fear of being hurt by the man at her side. It made her feel sick inside.
“Antonio, what are we doing?”
“Driving home. Is there somewhere else you’d like to stop? Did you need me to go back so you can get some things from the apartment?”
“No.” Her hand moved between them. “What are we doing? I mean, what are you thinking? I’m pregnant with a baby that’s not even mine, and you’re acting like . . . we’re a couple. I don’t do the couple thing. And neither do you. This isn’t a package I get to . . . return. I don’t get to go back to my old life.”
His expression was intent as they pulled into his driveway. Antonio cut the motor and turned to face her. His lashes half-lowered watching the lapel of her jacket rise and fall with every inflated inhale and exhale. There was no place for Hope to hide as he sifted through her wariness, mentally registering the apprehension in every labored breath.
Prying her tightly clamped fingers from the bulky knit hanging from her neck, he lifted her hand, pressing the heat of his lips into her knuckles. His grey eyes bored into her, swallowing her whole.
“Your sister called me the rebound man,” he hesitated but didn’t wait for her response. “Do you know why I broke off all those relationships?”
Hope swore her heart missed a beat. She shook her head.
“Why would I stay with another woman—” A small timid grin formed at the corners of his mouth. “—when every time you wrote to me, telling me you were coming to Italy, that’s all I could think of.”
Each tiny muscle of her face softened.
Hope blinked repeatedly, staring at his profile in the darkness. She watched his throat jump as he forced a swallow.
“Antonio, you . . . you broke up with those women because of me? So we could be together when I visited?”
“Si’. I vowed never to make the same mistake I made in my youth. I’d do anything to have you.”
“But, you were engaged . . . twice!”
“Yes, and I owe you many thanks. Both were mistakes and incredibly bad judgment on my part. I was merely trying to fill a void, but had I gone through with either one of them, and I’m certain I wouldn’t have, but if I had, I’d be divorced twice.”
“But, Antonio—”
He exited the car and jogged around to her side, opening the door and assisting her to her feet. Clasping her bewildered face in the palms of his hands, Antonio kissed her. Slow and sweet, he parted her lips, exploring and tasting. Clasping onto the collar of his jacket, she buried her face in his chest attempting to hide from the underlying significance of the situation unraveling in front of her.
“Bella, I would’ve rather spent a long weekend with you than a lifetime with any of the others,” he whispered. The warmth of his breath tickled the shell of her ear.
Hope was too stunned to speak. She licked her parched lips, but had no saliva. It seemed impossible that just a few words could hold so much meaning. Part of her felt gloriously triumphant and the other was desperately confused.
“So, to answer your question . . . I’m kind of liking the whole couple thing.” His raspy tone was like a long sensuous stroke down her spine. “And so are you. I think we should try it out.”
“Being a couple? But Antonio, I’m pregnant. Then what? I mean . . . shit. I don’t even know what I mean.”
“That means I’m here for you and this baby. Don’t you think it’s worth a shot?”
“Yes, but—”
“I’ll take the yes for now and work on the but later.”
THERE WAS NO DENYING THAT Florence had made its mark on the world, especially the fashion industry. Busy streets were lined with an astounding array of boutiques offering everything from designer label suits and gowns to hand-crafted leather bags, and of course shoes in every color imaginable. The options were endless . . . unless you were six months pregnant. Thankfully, JC and Tess knew exactly where to shop.
“Have you registered yet?” Tracy asked, strolling through the doors of Baby Bottega, a magical world of children interiors.
“Excuse me?”
“Registered for gifts, you know, for a baby shower?”
Hope meandered toward several lavishly decorated cribs at the far end of the store. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
“You have to have a baby shower,” JC affirmed.
“I’m not really a fan. I think we’ll just skip that event. Besides, I hardly know anyone here.”
Judging by the gaping mouths, Hope assumed that the three women had never heard of such a concept.
Tess smiled warmly, her blue eyes shined bright with compassion. “How about if we consider today your non-traditional baby shower?”
“Great idea,” Tracy and JC chimed in unison.
“That’s not really necessary. I can get—”
“Oh yes, lets! We can shop for everything you need and then have lunch at Rose’s.” JC turned to Hope, her level of enthusiasm surpassing exuberance. “It’s a little gem of a place we found a couple years ago. Perfect for lunch.”
Realizing she didn’t have a chance in hell of stopping the out-of-control baby shower train, Hope agreed begrudgingly. The colorful retail space was filled with everything from toys and furnishings to whimsical art and hanging decorations, every item designed to power a child’s imagination. Making the rounds through the crib section, Hope’s head was swimming in a sea of fabric selection, baby furniture, changing tables, and converter kits that could turn a crib into a bunk bed, daybed, or play house.
“Do I really need a baby cradle and a crib? The cradle seems a little pointless since I’m getting a crib.”
JC wrapped her arm around Hope’s shoulder. “The first couple of months involves feeding, changing, and sleeping. A cradle is a more confined space and has gentle springy movements that imitate the rocking sensation in the womb, plus during the night you can give it a little push and the baby might go back to sleep. And trust me, you’ll do anything for more sleep.”
“It’s kind of like the perfect combination of swaddling and a rocking chair,” Tess added. “And it’s much easier to move from room to room.”
Feeling a little light-headed, Hope held up a palm, praying to stop the onslaught of information. “What the hell is a swaddle and how do I do that?”
Tess laughed. “It’s just a specific way to wrap your baby in a blanket, so it feels safe and secure. You’ll learn during birthing class.”
Hope scowled, dread settled in a groove between her brows. “Birthing class? I read about that in my book, but my doctor hasn’t mentioned it yet.”
“I’m sure he will when you see him next,” Tracy assured. “I could go with you to class, if you’d like.”
Tess broke in from across the room, waving at a small selection of rockers. “You’re definitely going to need a comfortable rocking chair.”
Finding it difficult to process, Hope could only nod in response. The complexities of having a baby made her head swim. And this is why I preferred wine over children. A good bottle of wine didn’t need to be swaddled or a warehouse full of furniture.
Ambling toward Tess, she spotted a cozy cream-colored rocking chair similar to the one Faith had at her home. Hope thought of her sister and how much she would’ve enjoyed this day. Faith would’ve loved everything about the baby boutique and fit right in with these women. A small smile touched Hope’s lips; she could practically hear her sister spouting off facts from the purple book.
A deep longing tightened around her heart, giving it a little squeeze, as she dragged her fingertips over the linen fabric. Without question, Hope knew that chair was going into the baby’s nursery.
Three hours later, Hope had ordered a mid-century convertible crib in French white and a cradle, plus corresponding changing
table, chest of drawers, and a high chair that did everything but recline and feed you popcorn. The dark-blue jogger stroller with matching car seat, as well as several bags of baby outfits and toys, were stashed behind the counter, waiting for Hope to check out.
A white wicker basket filled with small, knitted unicorns, frogs, lions, hippos and a dozen more animals, all handmade and created in the shape of a doll, caught their attention on a counter.
“These dolls are so cute! I’ve never seen anything like them,” JC declared, inspecting a knit lion, playing with its mane created from rust-colored yarn.
An icy chill skittered across her shoulders. Hope’s breath hitched, her fingers trembled as she reached out, gently touching each doll.
“These remind me so much of my sister.” Hope cleared the rising sentiment from her throat, her voice low and quiet as if in a trance. “When we were little, the elderly woman who lived in the apartment below us taught Faith how to make dolls from an assortment of socks, bits of old clothing, discarded buttons, anything you could imagine. Faith kept shelves of them at the bakery. Kids loved them. They’d sit at a child-size table and have tea parties with her handmade dolls.”
Tracy and JC stared at her, mouths gaping open, listening to the story. Tracy looped her arm through Hope’s, giving it a tender squeeze.
“We’ll—” JC sniffed, tossing animal after animal on the counter. Her nose wiggled making an effort to keep the tears from spilling from her long lashes. “We’ll take one of each of these dolls, too.”
The woman behind the register didn’t say a word, only blotted her tears with a tissue. Hope dug through her bag, retrieving her wallet.
“It’s all taken care of Mrs. Tidwell.”
Reeling with the raw memories swirling in her head, Hope overlooked the Mrs. title. “No, you haven’t run my card yet.”
“It’s not necessary. I just need your information for delivery; email, phone number, and delivery address.”
“But I haven’t paid.”
Tess joined the conversation. “This is our gift, from the girls and me.”
“I can’t accept this. That’s way too much.” A spark of defensiveness fingered up her spine. Hope pulled her debit card from her wallet, but the clerk refused to accept it. “Really, I can afford to pay—”
“Oh sweetheart, I know that. Please, it’s my pleasure. The girls and I loved doing it.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Just be glad Tom wasn’t here,” Tracy crooned. “He would’ve bought out the whole store. He’s got crazy grandpa-itis. There might’ve been a minivan waiting outside with a pink and blue bow on top.”
“I . . . thank you,” Hope stammered.
The clerk pulled her gaze from her computer screen. “We’re at least four weeks out for delivery. We’ll contact you by email prior to delivery.”
“That’s perfect. Hopefully, that’ll give me enough time to find a villa.”
The rest of the afternoon was lost to a fabulous lunch and a bit more retail therapy. Tess’s driver/bodyguard escorted them from shop to shop, but managed to keep a low profile. Though no one approached them directly, Hope noticed a lot of people snapping candid photos of Tess and JC throughout the day. By late afternoon, paparazzi lurked around every corner, shouting and calling out to them by name. Hope wondered how anyone could deal with the judgements handed down by complete strangers while living in the public eye. Privately, she questioned how the two women didn’t walk around with their middle finger pointing skyward all afternoon.
Looking down at her stomach, she cringed a bit. Probably not something I should teach you, little hot pocket.
Mental numbness began to set in, allowing Hope to slip into a calm, lazy feeling of peacefulness on the drive home. She struggled knowing that it should’ve been Faith’s day, surrounded by dozens of friends and silly games, relishing in the traditional baby shower she’d always dreamed of. Retrieving a blanket from a package in the back, Hope rested her head against the car window. As her eyes drifted shut, Hope could’ve sworn she heard the faint whisper of her sister’s voice, I’m so proud of you.
Movement stirred in her tummy. Laying her hands on her belly, Hope warded off the tears, concentrating on the spot she felt a flutter. A small rolling movement pushed upward on her palm. Exhilaration rushed through her veins, her heart bursting with excitement. A proud, protective feeling came over her, shocking her more than the gymnastics taking place inside her tummy. She didn’t know what it meant, but she was too exhausted to dwell on it.
Hope decided to simply let it be.
She considered sharing the news, but she kept it to herself. All she could think of was Antonio. She couldn’t wait to tell him about the baby. The sun was setting in the sky when they arrived at Tracy’s villa. Catching sight of Antonio’s car surprised her, sending a shiver of delight to her very core.
Tracy planted her gaze on Hope, watching her reaction as they exited the vehicle. Amusement tickled her tone. “Hmm, imagine that. Antonio’s here.”
Unable to mask the smile, Hope stood there, in front of all three women, blushing from head to toe. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“Thank God! I didn’t think the subject of Antonio was ever going to come up.” JC maneuvered in front of Hope at the back of the vehicle, detouring her retreat. “So, what’s the story? How long have you two been together?”
“We’re just friends.”
“Just friends?” JC choked and sputtered. “I guess that explains why you’re glowing so brightly. I could probably use you as a flashlight.”
Curiosity dripped from each syllable. If anyone else questioned her so bluntly, Hope would’ve been annoyed and offended. JC’s cavalier attitude was innocent and sweet, which only made her more likeable. Hope privately wondered how one woman could be so blunt and so damn endearing at the same time.
“I am not glowing,” Hope insisted, leaning into the back to grab packages and avoid JC’s scrutiny.
“Yeah, she’s right, you’re glowing,” Tracy assured with a nod, passing by with an arm full of bags.
Tess chuckled, laying her hand on Hope’s forearm. “Definitely glowing.”
Laughter drifted through the cool night air, collecting on her shoulders like the evening mist.
“Oh, come on! You two are like . . . ridiculously hot together. Granted, we just met, but I’ve known Antonio for a while and it’s crystal fucking clear he’s crazy about you.”
“JC,” Tracy nipped, cautioning her sister to zip her lips.
“Okay, alright, I probably shouldn’t have asked, but I’ve kept my mouth shut all day long.”
“That’s a miracle in itself,” Tracy chimed.
Ignoring her sister, JC continued, “I’ve been dying to know and let’s face it, I’m no good with formalities. The suspense is killing me. Plus, Tracy won’t tell me anything.”
“That’s because I don’t know anything and it’s none of my business.”
“Don’t act all innocent. You’re dying to know just as much as I am,” JC scoffed, making a face. “Okay, I’ll rephrase. How long have you and Antonio been friends?”
Approaching the front door, she squared her shoulders and pushed a breath of air from the bottom of her lungs. “We’ve dated for years, just casual, whenever we’re in the same country. He’s been . . . wonderful . . . through everything.”
JC reeked of satisfaction, her head bobbing sassily back and forth, as they followed Tracy inside. Entering the villa, Hope’s gaze darted around the open living room searching for Antonio while the other men greeted their wives with warm hugs asking about their day. The pounding in her heart came as a painful throb, yearning for the same welcoming. Though she didn’t want to admit it.
Spotting his dark head of hair resting on the back of the sofa, she meandered into the room. The vision before her, caused her to gasp, stealing the air from her lungs.
“Oh yeah, judging by that goofy smile you’re wearing, definit
ely just friends.” JC winked, the flash of her camera caused Antonio and Chloe to stir.
Antonio looked rumpled and warm, holding the baby in his arms. The lids of his eyes peeled open, still heavy from sleep. He glanced down to check on Chloe, snuggling her a bit closer to his chest.
“Hey.” Her voice sounded soft and pliant, as if her heart just melted in her throat.
The thin black sweater he wore constricted over his bicep as he scrubbed his fingers through his short dark layers of hair. His mouth lifted into a sleepy slow burn of a smile as his gaze lingered over her body. She could feel her pulse picking up speed, rocketing through her veins. He looked absolutely gorgeous.
Their gazes caught and held strong, a current of shared energy passing between them.
Nodding toward the open seat beside him, he indicated for her to sit. “Come tell me about your day.”
Feet glued to the floor, Hope couldn’t move. She’d seen him in a suit dozens of times, gym clothes, jeans and a T-shirt, swim trunks, just about everything imaginable, but seeing him there with that baby snuggled to his chest, Antonio had never looked so damn appealing. Fuck, I’m in trouble.
Chloe stretched full, raising her tiny fisted hands above her head with a shiver. Her delicate features were soft and cherub-like with rosy full cheeks. A few small beads of perspiration gathered on the arches of her pink, pouty lips.
“You want to come see mommy?” JC quietly inched forward, holding out her arms, but the little girl buried her face against Antonio’s chest.
Half asleep, Chloe barely moved, merely latching onto a fold in the front of Antonio’s sweater. She stared blankly at her mother, her long lashes glistened with wetness, before closing her eyes again.
“Wow. I see how it is, you little traitor.” JC murmured something about Italian men, walking away toward Reed who was eying his wife lovingly from the kitchen. She hadn’t even made it five steps and Chloe sat upright and called out for her. “I knew you missed me. Come see your mommy, sweet girl.”
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