Until There Was You(69)
“Oh, dear,” Jon said.
“It’s just that…well, he’s not exactly a stranger, right?” Her brother-in-law nodded encouragingly. “I had the biggest crush on him.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Jon said kindly. “Just try to be careful. I mean, if he feels the same way, bliss. But if not, we’re back to the Dante situation.”
“I wasn’t in love with Dante,” Posey said. “I mean, I wouldn’t say I’m in love with…you know…the other one, either, but…”
But nothing. Since the moment she’d bumped into Liam in Guten Tag a month and a half ago, it had been impossible not to think about him. Even before last night, she’d felt a jolt of heat every time their paths crossed, every time she thought of him. She’d never been in love before, not really, unless you counted Ron, the Anderson Cooper fan. With Dante, she’d felt attraction, definitely, and she liked a lot of things about him, but the truth was, she hadn’t known him well enough to feel more than that.
But since yesterday morning, she’d been walking around as if she was filled with a buoyant, glowing warmth. Every flash of memory caused a surge of heat so delicious that twice she’d broken off midsentence, causing Elise to ask if she was okay. Even Gretchen had noticed at the restaurant yesterday. “Posey, what’s wrong? You’re all blotchy,” which of course caused Stacia to leap for a thermometer.
Yep. Felt a lot like love to her.
Jon chuckled. “Hello? Back to earth, sweets. Listen. I’m happy for you, hon, and I hope he deserves you. I never thought Dante Bellini was good enough for you. That pasta is like…well, okay, the food is amazing, and if you tell Ma I ate there, I’ll deny it with my last breath, but Dante Bellini is a poser.”
Posey put down her mug. “Speaking of Dante, I guess I should officially break up with him now,” she said in a low voice. “In case there was any…doubt.”
“Has he called you since you put things on hold?”
“Um…no.”
“Well, something tells me he’s not heartbroken. And here’s your chance. He’s getting out of his poser car right now.”
Posey looked out the window, and sure enough, there was Dante’s midnight-blue Audi, pulling up in front of Inferno.
“I’ll get this,” Jon said. “You go. Make a clean break, and here, take my bagel. I have to wear tights for the float, and God knows what I was thinking. You and your brother are freaks of nature. It’s not fair.”
“You have to wear tights?”
“Of course! Who do you think is playing the part of the prince?” He smiled proudly.
“Typecasting,” Posey said. “Thanks for breakfast.” She took Jon’s bagel, smacked him on the shoulder and crossed the street. It was a gorgeous spring day, sunny, temp in the upper fifties, breeze light and salty. Perfect parade weather, if it held for tomorrow. Today was the sidewalk stroll, a band concert on the green and fireworks over the river. She, Mac and Elise would be staffing a little booth on the green, featuring some of the smaller pieces from Irreplaceable—a few stained-glass windows, some signs, ceiling medallions and a few other things that could be easily transported. They usually sold out, and it was nice, seeing the other merchants. Maybe Liam would be there with one of his motorcycles. She’d hoped for a phone call yesterday, but no.
Didn’t matter (even if it did, a little bit). The birdies sang, the colors gleamed, the flowers smelled so sweet, the entire world seemed brighter. Amazing what a little some-some could do. Especially when the some-some had been so…well…heavenly? Would that be too strong a word? She pondered. Nope. Seemed to fit perfectly.
Oh, Elvis, the man could kiss! Sometimes, those bad-boy types, they didn’t try that hard (or so Sex and the City told her). But Liam had taken his time, uh-huh. Long and slow and meltingly delicious…and fun. She’d been nervous and a little self-conscious, and practically dying of lust, let’s be honest, but he’d made her feel…happy. And beautiful. Oh, sigh! And, in some strange way, like they were old friends, too. He smiled as they kissed, and threaded his fingers through her hair, and he told her she smelled like oranges. At one point in the wee hours, Liam had said, “Oh, God, do that again,” and the memory of his smoky bedroom do me voice had her walk right into a lamppost in the here and now.
“I saw that!” Jon called, and she waved and opened the door to Inferno. Posey felt a rush of pleasure at the décor…there was St. Agnes of Rome holding her lamb, a gargoyle in the corner, the incredible walnut bar—that had been a delicate job, getting that taken down and reassembled, that was for sure. The overall effect was rich, intimate and tasteful.
From the kitchen came a crash of pans and some yelling (in Italian, which had kind of a hotness to it). “Hello!” she called.
The yelling stopped. “I’m so sorry, we don’t open until— Oh. It’s you.” Dante came out of the kitchen, dressed in a white suit with a deep blue shirt.
“Hi, Dante,” she said. “Got a minute?”
“Sure,” he said. He pulled out a chair for her, and they sat down at a table. Posey looked at him—all dark pirate beauty—and smiled awkwardly. It was suddenly a little hard to believe they’d had a thing together. Not that she wasn’t fabulous, of course (hey—if Liam Murphy slept with her…). But just that Dante’s taste didn’t seem to incorporate a woman in Carhartt. He wasn’t smiling, and his was a face that was a little bit scary if it didn’t have a smile.