That's Amore! - Janelle Denison [89]
Something inside her clenched, bringing an almost physical pain with it at seeing the stark words, so blatant and harsh.
So much for completely business-like. She wanted to melt into a weeping puddle on the floor just thinking that the man she greatly feared she'd fallen head-over-heels in love with was about to walk down the aisle with someone else. He'd be out of reach forever.
"He's been out of reach all along, you fool," she reminded herself.
She was a fool for allowing that fact to slip out of her mind.
No more, however. Rachel had woken up. Gotten her head on straight and thrust all images of strong hands lingering on silk, twinkling eyes, and sexy smiles right out of her brain.
It was over. She was finished being susceptible to his wit, his humor, his charm, his laugh. Not to mention his incredible looks. "Finished," she told herself, thrusting the mental picture of him in those tight, worn jeans—and nothing else—out of her brain. "You're never going to be alone with him again."
She distracted herself by thinking instead of what was inside the carton she was about to open. She carefully cut the tape on the huge package, seeing several smaller sealed cardboard boxes inside.
To make sure she'd never again be alone with Luke Santori, she decided not to even call Maria to let her know the favors, bomboniere—small, imprinted boxes with colorful, candy-coated almonds inside—had arrived. With Rachel's luck, she'd send Luke to pick them up. And he'd be all hot and adorable. Maybe wearing raggedy shorts this time. And a ripped muscle shirt. And he'd be all sweaty from a workout. Glistening.
Stop it.
There was one surefire way to get heated thoughts of Luke out of her mind. She'd walk down the block to visit his family. The ones who were all excited about his upcoming wedding to someone else. She'd just bring a box of the favors down to the restaurant and let Mrs. Santori show them to her future daughter-in-law. Which was exactly what she told Maddie, the part-time seamstress, who'd come in to help out on what they expected to be a busy Saturday.
"Okay. Bring me back a small pizza, will you?"
Rachel grinned at the young woman, whose tiny frame didn't look like it could manage a single slice, much less an entire pizza. "Okay." Then she met the younger woman's eye, silently urging her to understand. "As long as you agree to handle Maria Martinelli's fitting—if she ever decides to show up for one." Lowering her voice, she said in a thick whisper, "Please, Maddie. I can't do it … for very personal reasons."
Maddie opened her mouth, obviously intending to shoot it off. But apparently Rachel's tone, not to mention the pleading look in her eyes, got the message across. She nodded. "Okay."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome," Maddie said. "And now, you owe me breadsticks, too."
Pizza and breadsticks. A small price to pay for avoiding the woman who was about to marry the man Rachel had so unwisely fallen in love with.
There were those words again. In love. Are you crazy?
Maybe. But that didn't make her feelings any less real. Just her luck, she'd gone and fallen in love—for the first time ever—with a man she couldn't have.
Unfortunately, she realized as soon as she entered Santori's, avoiding Maria wasn't going to be so easy. Because the woman was seated a few feet away. Across from Lucas, in a booth near the door.
Oh, God. She instinctively began to whirl around, then realized Mrs. Santori was watching her in avid curiosity from behind the counter. Luke's mother gave her a big welcome, coming out from behind the counter, arms extended. "Rachel, you should have told me you were coming for lunch. I woulda had Ant'ny working on a spinach calzone for you."
Her favorite. Rachel managed a shaky nod of hello, even though Luke had immediately looked up at his mother's words. He appeared tense, uncomfortable even. But when his eyes met hers, his expression softened and he offered her a smile of such unexpected tenderness, she nearly stumbled.
She wondered if Mrs. Santori