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Aknock had the wedding party swiveling our heads toward the door. I hopped out of my seat, smoothing down the wine-red tea-length gown the bride had chosen for us. Luca, our lone groomsman, stood on the other side of the door with a basket hooked over his arm, and a hand covering his eyes.
“Is everyone dressed?”
“Nope. I opened the door butt naked.”
The fingers over his eyes parted a fraction of an inch. “Liar.”
I laughed, taking the basket of water bottles, programs, and granola bars from him. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Luca snorted, his brown eyes luminous. “It’s not possible for you to be a disappointment. You look beautiful, by the way. Red looks really nice on you.”
My cheeks warmed, but luckily I’d already been through makeup so there were layers to hide any blushing from him. Being complimented was nothing new for me. Clients at my weekend job poured them out as easily as breathing, but something about the sweet sincerity of Luca Marino complimenting me dug a little deeper. “Thanks. You look pretty snazzy yourself.”
His cheeks flushed pink, and his nervous fingers went to fuss with his hair. I snatched them out of the air. “Don’t ruin the stylist’s work. He made you look so cute.”
That only made his blush deeper. He stared down at me, his mouth opening and then closing, and I could practically see the words he wanted to ask. You think I’m cute?
Instead, he said, “Make sure Allie drinks one of those waters. Can’t have the bride shriveling into a raisin.” Luca beamed at me, looking unfairly dashing in his tux, his cheeks flushed with excitement, brown eyes bright, and his dark hair neat and tidy. “Any other errands for me to run?”
“I think we’re all set for the moment.”
We’d been sending him on errands all day and the affable beta had completed each task without a hint of complaint. Refreshing was a word that kept coming to my mind. Adorable was another. I didn’t generally classify grown men as cute, but Luca was. With a perpetual smile and a penchant for helping, it was basically impossible to dislike him.
His older brother was marrying my bestie today. Sidney seemed like a decent guy—certainly better than a lot I had encountered over the years—and I was doing my damndest to keep happiness for Allie at the forefront today.
Weddings and I didn’t have a fabulous history. My mom was on her fourth marriage right now, or maybe fifth? I had only met the third at the wedding and never met the fourth at all. Who knew if she’d tossed him aside and found another by now? And my older sister, Stella, was in the midst of a vicious divorce to a man I’d never wanted her to marry to begin with. But Sidney wasn’t Rodney, and he wasn’t my dad or stepdads, and I had to keep reminding myself of that.
Seeing Allie absolutely radiant with joy every time she was around Sidney helped convince my brain, but didn’t completely silence the pessimistic voices in the back of my mind. Allie deserved to be happy, though. I loved her like a sister, and even though she was familiar with my views, she knew I’d be there for her regardless. Which was why I was in an excessively crinolined bridesmaid gown, had woken up at the asscrack of dawn, and had put on my biggest smile to get my bestie down the aisle.
Even so, beyond my pessimism, weddings always made me feel weird. Like I was pressed against the glass, looking in on something I’d never have, even if I didn’t want it. There was always that quiet question: was it possible for people to make it work, for them to stay happy with each other for a lifetime?
Luca poked me in the forehead. My oldest niece did the same to me sometimes when I got too up in my thoughts. “That expression is way too serious for a wedding day. Want to get some air?”
I glanced back at the others—Allie, the bride; Meg, the maid of honor; and Nicky, the sister of the groom. “Anyone mind if I go for a little walk?”
“Go right ahead,” Meg replied, taking the basket from me. “I’m going to get one of these granola bars into Allie.”
I slipped into the hall, closed the door behind me, and leaned against it before looking up at Luca.
“Everything okay?” He offered me the crook of his arm.
“Absolutely,” I lied, tucking my arm through his. “Just tired.”
“The gardens have a little café in the lobby if you need a pick-me-up. I’ve heard their hot chocolate is pretty good.” Luca led me down the hallway, past a dozen ornate doors, and out into the main facility where glass domes housed the greenery. The crisp, beachy scent of him kept the humidity and smell of soil from being too cloying, and I tucked a little closer.
“I might need to Irish up that hot chocolate.”
Luca hummed and pulled us to a stop, turning to face me. “That doesn’t sound like a cure for being tired. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but I’m a pretty good listener. If you want to talk.”
Of course Luca would be a good listener. I’d already witnessed it for myself when he was endlessly attentive during the wedding planning discussions. He hadn’t yawned once when we’d gone over the gigantic book of color swatches.
He didn’t speak while he waited for me to decide, only looked at me like whatever I might say was important…like he was ready to hang on every word. Clients looked at me like that sometimes, but only when I was praising them and pulling compliments out of my ass. Luca certainly wasn’t expecting either of those things from me.
The second forehead poke startled me out of my thoughts again. “Sorry. I have a lot on my mind today. Bridesmaid duties and whatnot.”
I knew by his frown he’d been hoping for more, but I didn’t want to get into my family’s disaster marriages or my disbelief in romantic love. Today wasn’t for any of that.
“Come on, cutie.” I tugged him toward the café. “Let’s get me some sugar.”
