Chapter 2
JULES
“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” I said to Delaney as we headed toward the wine tent. “Even though I’ve been over my checklist a hundred times.”
“Probably because you are.”
I gave the red head who had been my friend since I came to Cedar Falls in middle school a look that said thanks even though I knew she was right. As they said, I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached.
“I hope the converter I got is right. I’ll have to compare it to yours before we leave.”
“I’m sure it is.” Delaney smiled to the older gentleman who had been a staple of our town since before my parents and I arrived. “Buongiorno, Emilio.”
“Practicing your Italian for the big trip?”
Delaney looked at me, slightly panicked.
“Sì,” I said. “It means yes.”
Emilio chuckled.
“I know that one.” Delaney continued to look like she might be constipated, so I tried again.
“What were you trying to say?”
“I’m trying.”
“Ci sto provando,” Emilio provided.
Delaney repeated the phrase, just like she’d done for the millionth time since she decided to start learning Italian for her “bachelorette party alternative” as she’d called it.
The two of us had been talking about visiting my grandfather’s hometown of Monterosso in Perugia for years.
And now that she was getting married in less than two months, instead of a bachelorette party, Delaney and I were going to make the trip.
“Perhaps you should let Signorina Juliette do the translating,” Emilio, who had immigrated with his wife from Italy to Cedar Falls many years ago, suggested.
“I told her most people speak English there anyway, but the girl is insistent.”
“Stubborn, I think you said,” Delaney corrected, peering behind us as a couple joined the queue. “Anyway, we don’t want to hold you up. Two white wines please. Oh,” she added. “What is that again? Something vino rosso?”
“Vorrei,” I said. “And rosso is red. You’re looking for bianco.”
“Oh crap, I give up.”
Emilio handed her a glass of wine from his shop in town.
He’d partnered with Pia and Mason for this event which, so far, seemed to be a success.
Between Italy and my various jobs, I wasn’t able to make it yesterday, but today’s festival had just gotten started an hour ago and it was packed.
Every inch of Heritage Hill was packed with people wandering from the wine tents to the various food trucks and into the inn.
Thankfully, it was a beautiful day and the first annual Heritage Hill/Casa Di Vino Summer Wine Festival was cemented as a not to be missed Cedar Falls event.
“I have faith in you,” I said as Emilio handed me a glass.
“As do I, signorina. You’d do great. Make sure you ladies come by and tell me about the trip when you get back.”
“Will do,” I said, shoving in front of Delaney to hand him a bill. “My treat. This is bachelorette non-party eve.”
Delaney rolled her eyes. “That’s not a thing.”
“Sure it is.” We stepped aside. “Ciao, Emilio. See you next week.”
“Ciao ciao.”
Wine in hand, we strolled through the vast grass lawn and caught up with Pia and Mason, who seemed happy about the festival so far.
We then made our way to the edge of the dock where Delaney’s fiancé Parker was giving boat rides to kids, a very Parker thing to do.
When one of them tried to climb out of the boat prematurely, with Parker telling him to sit down, I rushed to the edge of the dock.
Unfortunately, instead of helping, I tripped and ended up ass up in the rowboat.
By the time I got myself up and helped Parker empty the boat of kids, we had a crowd of onlookers.
“I see you trying to hide your phone,” I said to Delaney. “Jerk.”
She was laughing too hard to respond.
The three of us made our way off the dock, Parker’s boat tour shift apparently over, when Delaney pulled me toward her.
“Way to nearly drown your charges.”
Directly in front of me, looking at Parker with an expression somewhere between snooty and derisive, was the one person at this entire event I most wanted to avoid. We’d been in each other’s company a handful of times throughout the years, but only when I couldn’t help it.
Parker’s friend Cole made me nervous as hell.
Maybe it was because he talked so little.
Or maybe because, when he did talk, it was to say something like he just had to Parker.
Or maybe because he was so drop-dead gorgeous that I was afraid of ogling him and having the same look he gave Parker directed at me.
Either way, our vibes just didn’t match.
But instead of turning around and scurrying away, I attempted to embody my new philosophy of not caring so much what other people thought. Living my life on my own terms and all of that.
“Not a very nice thing to say,” I heard come out of my mouth. “To someone who just spent the last hour giving kids boat rides.”
Unfortunately, he turned those dark-rimmed glasses toward me.
The last time we were this close, at O’Malley’s Pub when he’d come from the city for a weekend visit, I high-tailed it to the dance floor. This time, I was stuck.
Insert foot in mouth, Jules. Good job.
“Says the woman who seems to have some difficulty staying upright.”
Jerk.
“I was trying to help.”
Ugh. Why was I defending myself to him?
“I see,” he said slowly, enunciating every syllable.
“Thanks for having my back,” Parker cut in good-naturedly. “But feel free to go ahead and ignore him. Cole’s just cranky because…” He grinned, looking at Mr. Stick Up His Ass. “Why are you cranky, Cole?”
“I’m not cranky.” He said the word as if it were somehow beneath him. Like a word a toddler would use.
“Oh. My. God. Juliette Porter?”
The shriek from behind me was followed by a bear hug from my college roommate freshman year. Even though we both attended college somewhat locally, we formed to get the whole experience and had become close.
“Sunny, Fucking, Kirkland.” I hugged her back. “What the hell are you doing in Cedar Falls?”
“I came back two days ago to visit Gram who told me about this festival. What a great event. We need to catch up. Will you be here a bit?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Good friends of mine are hosting it. We’ll be here for a while.”
“Awesome. I need to talk to someone about getting Gram home health. Be right back.”
When I turned back to the group, planning on apologizing for not having time to introduce her, the look on Cole’s face stopped me.
It was a combination of amusement—though not the fun kind—and something a little less hostile than disgust. He was looking at my shoulder.
“Alis volat propiis,” I said since he was obviously eyeing up my tattoo. Starting on my left collarbone, it headed down my shoulder with its vines spreading out in what would eventually be a full sleeve someday. “It’s Latin for—”
“I know what it means,” he cut in.
“Now, Cole.” Delaney talked to him like a teacher might scold a middle-schooler. “Be nice.”
“I’m always nice,” he responded.
It was hard not to look at his lips as he talked. They were full, for a guy. And his cheekbones went on for miles. It was too bad the guy was such a complete and utter asshole.
Past me might try to figure out how to crack his code and make him like me. But present me had committed to not letting other people control my mood.
“I see Pia,” I lied. “I’ll catch you guys later. Gonna go say hello.”
How someone as nice as Parker could like that guy, I had no clue. But I certainly wasn’t going to waste a perfect nice summer day worrying about him.
I had vino to drink. And a trip to finish packing for.
Andiamo, Jules. The next adventure awaits.