Chapter 22
JULES
“Holy shit.”
I should have known from the courtyard, or the gussied-up staff and welcome Prosecco, or the lobby… but when Cole pushed open the door to our room, I couldn’t help but gasp.
“I’ve stayed in okay places before but… wow.”
It was all black and white with gold accents. Humongous, especially given our prime location in Milan. Our bags were already positioned neatly along the wall.
“What is this?”
A welcome note, addressed to Signore Ford, along with a small gift. We read it together, Cole just behind me. He was so close, I could feel his breath on my neck as he spoke.
“Nice note.”
I swallowed, stepping out of the danger zone to place the letter back on the table. “Um. What’s a pillow menu?”
“Open it up,” he said, nodding toward the oblong black box.
I did. Four mini pillows sat inside with a note on the lid.
“So apparently you can test them out and order your favorite pillow firmness.”
“Do it,” he said. “I’ll be sleeping there.” He pointed to the deep purple velour couch that was bigger than my own.
“No way. I’ll—”
“Not gonna happen. I’ll grab a shower while you order your pillows.”
With that, he disappeared around the corner.
I was about to tell Cole he’d forgotten his clothes, but I was distracted by the billowing sheer white window coverings. Moving toward them, I pushed one aside and gasped.
They weren’t just windows.
We had a balcony, its open doors hidden by the curtains.
I stepped out, not believing my eyes. I’d known we were close to the city center, thanks to Cole. But he’d made zero mention of the fact that the back of our hotel overlooked the most famous of all Milan landmarks.
I was staring at the Duomo di Milano.
Holy shit. What a view.
The piazza was filled with people, most holding up their phones to take pictures or videos of the beautiful structure. I could have stood there all night looking at it. And did, for a while.
“Cattedrale Metropolitana della Natività della Beata Vergine Maria.”
I smelled fresh soap before I saw him as Cole joined me on the balcony.
If the view in front of me was impressive, the one beside me was almost equally so. Hopefully I didn’t gape openly before looking away, but the sight of Cole in a white robe—hair wet and tousled, no glasses—was… a bit much.
Breathe, Jules.
I couldn’t look at him.
“Come again?” I asked, my voice unnaturally high.
Way to play it cool.
“That’s its full name,” he said. “Though most people just call it the Duomo.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
No other words came out.
“Beautiful view.”
“It is.” I turned toward him by accident.
Except… Cole wasn’t looking out toward the Piazza del Duomo.
He was looking at me.
My heart picked up its pace.
Was he going to kiss me? Imagine a first kiss here, on this balcony, with that view.
First kiss.
With a guy like him, there might be a second or third, but that would be the extent of it. I had to stop thinking I was in the midst of some grand Italian romance.
“Did you pick your pillow?”
Pull it together.
“No. I realized there was a balcony. No one mentioned this view. You’d think Delaney or Parker would have said something.”
His sharp jawline flexed.
“They don’t have this view.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I upgraded to get it.” For me? “And like you said, if they had it, I’m sure one of them would have mentioned it.”
“Upgraded?” I’d saved money for this trip, but upgrading a room at a place like this wasn’t on the agenda. “I can only imagine what that must have cost.”
“And that’s all you’ll do. It’s my treat.”
“Cole—”
His finger landed on my lip, silencing my argument before I could say another word. His thumb brushed my lower lip, slow enough to feel deliberate.
He looked as surprised as I felt.
All I had to do was open my mouth, take him in…
Cole pulled his hand away.
“Sorry.” He sucked in a deep breath. “You should go get ready. We’re supposed to meet them in the lobby in half an hour.”
Yes. I should.
“Is there another robe?”
His eyes narrowed. “Juliette… if you come out of that bathroom wearing only a robe—” His gaze dipped briefly to my chest before meeting mine. “Please don’t,” he added.
But you can?
I didn’t say it out loud. I wasn’t brave enough for that.
“Yes, there is another robe,” he said when I forgot to actually answer.
“Okay.” I forced a smile. “Enjoy the view.”
I scurried back inside like a scared rabbit.
Deciding not to tempt fate, I found an outfit first, then ventured into a walk-in shower that was easily three times bigger than any other I’d ever been in. Big enough for two.
Though there was only one person I imagined inside it with me.
I made quick work of showering, dressing, and putting on my makeup, I pretended Cole didn’t exist. Slightly easier than usual, since he was still on the balcony—but the thought of him out there in a robe was unsettling.
When he came back inside, I was relieved to see him fully dressed.
“Fancy,” I said, keeping the rest of my assessment firmly in my head.
“Bellissima,” he replied.
I’d saved my nicest dress for Milan. It was a good thing, too, because when we met up with Parker and Delaney and made our way to the restaurant, we were nowhere near the best dressed.
“The vibe is so different here,” Delaney said. “I feel like a country bumpkin.”
“I’ve only flown into Milan, haven’t stayed over too many times,” I replied as we turned a corner, nearly bumping into a woman wearing an evening gown while walking her dog. No joke. “But I’ve always felt that way too.”
“The restaurant they recommended,” Cole said, “is a local favorite, but they assured me it was low-key.”
“Pfft.” Parker didn’t sound convinced. “Low-key here is probably Michelin-starred back in the States.”
“I’m impressed you know what a Michelin star is,” Cole ribbed him.
They went back and forth for blocks until we finally arrived.
Cole was right. As pretentious as it had felt on the walk, the restaurant itself was anything but. People were well dressed, but it wasn’t fancy—just a small, warm Italian place, the kind where the owner knew your name. Another perk of staying at a hotel like ours.
“I could seriously get used to this lifestyle,” I said.
“And you would have,” Delaney added, “if you’d been a little more open-minded about that guy in Florence. Imagine being married to the owner of a restaurant in the most beautiful city in the world. Free food and wine.”
Before she went any further, I stopped her.
“You’re forgetting his long hours. Not to mention the side chicks.”
“How do you know he has side chicks?” Parker asked.
I thought he was serious until he started laughing.
The only one not laughing was Cole.
He’d gone quiet, which meant he was deep in thought about something. Instead of commenting, I turned my attention back to Delaney and Parker.
When the conversation shifted to our rooms, stories were traded.
I didn’t mention the balcony.
Cole didn’t either.
And there was no reason not to—except that we both knew it meant something that he’d done it.
And somehow, that silence said everything.