Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Elise
H alf an hour before closing, a gorgeous couple entered Glazed and instantly started beaming as they took in the bright pink walls and white, light pink, and black accents.
By now, seeing stunning people wandering the streets of Silverton, especially nearing a big event like the upcoming charity gala, had become par for the course. Or it should’ve been. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to seeing big name celebrities around town.
These two weren’t famous that I recognized, but I hadn’t gotten a look at them straight on until they stepped up to the counter and the woman grinned.
“You’re Elise.”
It clicked instantly. “And you’re Aurelie.”
“Yes! This is my husband Michele. We’re so happy to meet you!”
Her enthusiasm shocked me, as did the leap in my chest as she leaned over to air kiss to one side of my face then the other, despite the counter separating us, then took my hand and patted it as though it was a stand in for a hug.
I was genuinely happy to see someone who belonged to Luc—who knew and loved him in ways I never could but wanted to.
Wait . That had to be the frosting fumes getting to my head.
“The pleasure’s all mine. Can I get you a donut?”
“ Si, per favore , I need to eat at least two of these beautiful creations,” her husband Michele said, eyes flittering from one donut to the next.
His accent was heavier than Aurelie’s, and I could tell it was Italian, though that might’ve been only because I knew he was Italian thanks to Luc’s run down of everyone in the family a fiancée would reasonably be expected to know.
“Luc has raved about your donuts.” Aurelie beamed, eyes on my creations.
Why did knowing this give me a thrill? I knew he liked my donuts. He’d said as much, as had his behavior for the last six months of him being here at least twice a week, if not more.
“What does my fratello piccolo get when he visits?” Michele hit me with his wide, toothy smile.
He was certainly a handsome man. He had longish hair, wild with romantic curls, and yet somehow it made his deep-set dark eyes and olive skin seem all the more bedroomy and appealing rather than unkempt. He kept one hand around Aurelie’s waist and tucked into her side, two fingers disappearing under her shirt.
More affectionate than American couples tended to be for sure, but instead of making me uncomfortable like PDA often did, I liked it. In fact, I loved knowing these two enjoyed each other so much they couldn’t keep their hands off one another.
Um, okay, these two could totally be the stars of a pirate romance. Or maybe even an epic fantasy. She’s the chosen one and he’s the dark prince set against her… until he’s not.
Mentally refocusing on the here and now, I started in. “Luc likes?—”
“Ooo I like the way she says Luc .” Michele wiggled his thick brows.
Aurelie elbowed him in the side. “Please excuse him. He’s just excited to be on vacation and he loves my brother.”
This had me grinning. “I’m so glad. Do I say Luc wrong?”
Aurelie chuckled and Michele just smiled broadly.
“Not at all. You say it perfectly. He’s just being… him.” Instead of irritation or exasperation, she leaned close and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
Goodness, these two.
“Well, Luc loves the plain glazed and he often gets whatever is seasonal or special. I’m sold out of this week’s special, but I do have a seasonal spring lemon blueberry cake donut.”
Michele loosed a chain of words in rapid Italian I couldn’t dream of understanding and Aurelie laughed.
“He’s saying that sounds like heaven. We’ll take two glazed and two of the lemon blueberry, thank you, Elise.”
When she handed me her credit card, I shooed her away. She pursed her lips and gave me a perturbed look that was so like Luc, I had to laugh. If I hadn’t already known they were siblings, that would’ve tipped me off.
I handed them their little sacks of donuts. “You’re welcome to eat here, but if you enjoy coffee, I highly recommend stepping next door to get a drink from Joe.” I gestured to the side where they could find the coffee shop and its charming owner. Ethan would get a kick out of Michele for sure.
“Thank you, Elise. And we’ll see you for dinner tonight?” Aurelie asked as Michele yanked out a glazed donut, shoved half of it in his mouth, and groaned so loudly I felt like I should apologize for witnessing it.
My lashes fluttered as I tried to will away the heat rising to my cheeks and huffed a small laugh. “Yes. Yes, you will.”
Aurelie chuckled, too. “This man loves food and he has no patience. Thank you for the donuts, and remember, our grandfather is all bark.” She tilted her head to one side, then amended, “Well actually, he’s bite, too. But mostly bark. And his problems with Luc are nothing to do with you—I can already tell you’re lovely.”
“Thank you,” I said, not sure what else I could say. How should one respond when one’s fake almost-sister-in-law warned one away from the very person one would be spending extended time with that evening?
Well, one probably stops referring to oneself in third person.
I worked on my computer for another half hour between serving clients, enjoying the fact that I’d met Aurelie and Michele. They’d be familiar faces at dinner tonight, and they were certainly kind.
By the time I shut down the shop, worked my assistant hours in the afternoon, and finally showered and got put back together, I had ten minutes to spare. In that time, I paced and sent Dove messages telling her she should come kidnap me before Luc arrived.
“Why would I do that? I want you two to go knock his grandpa’s socks off.”
A lovely thought, but even without whatever new information Luc would give me tonight, I knew I wouldn’t do that by virtue of being anyone other than the woman he’d chosen for his grandson.
“Not likely. Plus, I’m all dressed up and what if he’s disappointed?”
The moment I sent the message, I wanted it back. Just as quickly, it showed as read and response dots bubbled up. I wished I didn’t care what Luc thought of my new cocktail dress or the way I’d styled my hair in loose waves to my shoulders. I didn’t normally try this hard, and something about doing so tonight made me feel naked rather than armed with fashionable clothing.
“If he is anything less than speechless from you in that dress, he’s an idiot and I will require him to come to my doorstep so I can slap him with a kid glove.”
I chuckled at the image of Dove swatting Luc’s cheek with an empty glove. She was definitely still in her historical romance era.
“Thank you. I just want this to go well. It’s all pretty pointless if it’s not believable.”
I could accept I was pretty, but Luc had literally been a model. Aurelie was just about the prettiest woman I’d ever seen, and her husband matched her in an equal yet opposite way. Would Luc’s grandfather take one look at me and instantly know I was a woman struggling to hold my life together? Would he see through me as quickly as I feared?
“You’re amazing, whatever happens. I love you and I know you can do this.”
Her faith in me bolstered my courage, and I took one last look in the mirror. Hair wavy but sleek-looking, makeup as expertly done as I ever managed with subtle cat-eye black liner and a little bronzer and blush to give me color I didn’t naturally have thanks to my work schedule, and a cherry-plum lip color that matched the pretty maroon and fuchsia of my dress. It was bold, but the fitted shape highlighted my waist and gave grace around my middle. I wore wedges because I would likely have to wear actual heels for the gala, and I wasn’t about to do that to myself twice in one week.
The doorbell startled me out of my perusal, and I shuffled to get to the door, pulling it open and working to calm my breath as Luc walked in wearing a black suit with a crisp white shirt and sneakers.
“Sneakers?” I asked, not able to eke out a full sentence since the sight of him winded me.
His facial hair was perfectly styled, short but purposeful, and his hair looked coiffed but not glued in place. The little piece that sometimes fell into his eyes currently rested on his forehead and I wished I could say it didn’t happen, but it did—my stomach flipped.
He was just so stupidly handsome, it was unavoidable.
And the look on his face…
His jaw flexed and his eyes became nearly smokey as they slipped down over me, then back up, each inch set on fire with his gaze.
“You look incredible,” he said, stepping closer.
My pulse jumped and I swallowed, practically vibrating with nervous anticipation.
“You do, too,” I said, my eyes locked on his.
He swayed forward, and I lifted my chin, not far from begging for him to finally try out the whole kissing thing, when he straightened, his brow bunching as he said, “We need to talk.”
Oh.
That’s so much less fun than kissing.