Meanwhile, Julia shared food with his family and laughed and joked around. She told about her family getting together for Christmas to make tamales when she was younger and eating together for hours. She spoke of Easter cookout traditions and described her Quinceañera, getting up and demonstrating the puffiness of her dress. But then her face changed and she said she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had time to share a meal with her family. He imagined it must’ve been difficult since her mother had been ill. Her life must have been very much like his—take-away for meals all the time.
He ached to touch her in some way, the way their hands brushed against each other last night or when cooking, earlier. Or when he fixed her hair. But it was awkward in the presence of the family and all the children. And he swore Mandy was always watching him, raising her brows a few times.
“What?” he asked in irritation when Mandy yet again gave him a look.
“Come help me bring the panna cotta out,” Mandy said, getting up.
“Oh, no. I get it,” Francesca said. “You break it.”
“I certainly will not,” Mandy protested. “And Daniel will help.”
Daniel got up. “Anything you ask, dear sister.”
In the kitchen, he refilled her glass of wine. “What was all that grimacing about, sister?”
“You must leave that poor girl alone.” Mandy punched him in the upper arm.
“I’m very much leaving her alone.” Daniel rubbed the hurt spot and narrowed his eyes at his sister.
“You are not. You are staring at her like a hungry wolf at a lost lamb.”
He laughed despite himself. “That obvious, huh?”
“You are practically drooling.”
“Fine. I like her. A lot.”
“You don’t deserve her.”
“Shouldn’t you be sticking up for me? As a good sister would?”
“I know how you treat women, and she seems like the loveliest woman. I will pack her bags for her tonight and clip a lock on her door.” Mandy sat down on a tall stool and drank some of her wine.
“I think she can take care of herself.”
“I hope so. Still—if you like her, stay away. She deserves better.”
“Point taken. Where is the dessert? I at least deserve to have dessert, and more wine, as your brother.”
“That I may let you have.”
Daniel carried the desserts out on a large tray and tried as much as he could to ignore the sparkle in Julia’s eyes that night, and her dimple, and especially the warmth in his hand as her fingers found their way to his as the cicadas sang goodnight.
He knew Mandy was right. Julia deserved better than him. Daniel hadn’t learned how to treat a girlfriend properly. He was a selfish bastard who only cared about his career—isn’t that what one of his girlfriends had said to him? So he drank more wine until Gian dragged him to bed and he fell into blissful oblivion.
Chapter 14
Daniel woke with severe pounding in his head. He should’ve closed his curtains before passing out last night. He had never been a fan of hangovers. Especially not on days when he needed to stop the woman he cared about from leaving. If he could only lose his bossy sister. He stumbled to the bathroom and stuck his head under the cold tap water until some sense came back to him. Espresso. He needed espresso. He dressed quickly and made his way to the kitchen, the water from his hair still dripping down his back.
“Here you go.” Aunt Louisa handed him a steaming cup.
He took a quick sip, and the scalding liquid sent a shot of pain through his mouth. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“I’m trying to keep you presentable. You don’t want her to see you like this.”
“Julia is still here, then?” he asked, hopeful now.
“She is. I saw her playing with the dog this morning. She was waiting for you to give her a ride to Greve. I believe she wants to leave first thing, so now she is packing.”
He set the cup down. “I can’t let her. What do I do?”
Francesca came by and sat down. “We keep her here.”
“But how? She feels she doesn’t belong here. This estate—it’s so large, and Mandy has been trying to keep us apart.”
“But why?”
“It’s my fault. My history with women is not that great.”
“It’s not,” Louisa said dryly.
“But Louisa, you have to help me. I like this one.”
He took Francesca’s hand. “You will help me, please?”
“Well, this is something I never thought I’d see,” Louisa said. “My nephew begging for help with a girl.”
“I know. We make it fun for her to stay,” Francesca said.
“Okay, okay.” Daniel got up and made himself another espresso. “I get this. But how? She is in Italy to find her mother. It’s not as if she is on a boring holiday.”
“Well, dear, if she is here to find her mother, you must let her,” Louisa interrupted.
“I understand, but I only want her to stay another day or two, so she can get to know me. Can you think of something?”
“I have an idea,” Louisa said.
“What is it?”
“Drink your coffee, then go bring her here.”
He finished his coffee in seconds and ran up to Julia’s room, feeling much revived. She was dressed, her suitcase outside the door. Hope kept stirring in him, and he didn’t want it to stop. He just had to keep her here a bit longer. He knew Louisa and Francesca wouldn’t let him down. He grabbed hold of her suitcase and took it back inside the room. She watched him from the doorway, her brows raised.
“I have a reservation in Florence, Daniel.”
“Cancel it. Stay here. We have plenty of room.” He approached and rubbed her shoulders. “Mia will return today. She’d love to meet you. I’ll take you to see Firenze tomorrow. I promise.”
“Daniel Stafford as a personal tour guide?”
“With no strings attached. You’ll still be on schedule to go find your mum.”
“I’m afraid I’ll be even more sad to leave Lizzy if I stay longer.”
“Don’t worry about how you’ll feel later. Think about today. We’ll have a great time. I’ll show you the wine cellar, we’ll tour the estate, relax by the pool.” Daniel took Julia’s hand and pulled her behind him.
“Daniel, what are you doing?”
“Just come have breakfast before you go.” He led her to the kitchen, hoping the aunts had come up with a plan.
“Good morning,” Aunt Louisa said as they walked in. “When you are done with breakfast, Julia, do you think you can help with the apricots today? They’ve been ripe for days and need to be picked, but everyone’s been too busy.”
“Apricot harvest?” Julia asked, her face spreading into the most delightful smile. “I’d love to.”
He couldn’t believe it was that easy. “Do you know how to harvest apricots?” Daniel asked. She would stay to help on the farm? Why didn’t he think of that? He really was not very good at knowing women.
“Yes, my family grew peaches in Texas, remember. Can it be much different?” Julia said, shrugging.
“Brilliant. So much for our plans to cool off by the pool, though.” He sighed. He was lying, he couldn’t care less about spending a day by the pool. He’d do nothing but farm labor if it meant spending the day with her.
“It’s not a problem. If I’m to stay, I should earn my keep,” Julia said.
Daniel wished he could hug and kiss Louisa a hundred times, but all he could do was exchange winks with her. He owed his aunt, for sure. Julia would stay!
They finished breakfast, and he waited for Julia to change into a pair of shorts and find her hat. She emerged from her room wearing a blouse, a pair of tight jeans, and leather boots. He found himself speechless.
“You are not going to call me ‘Texas’?” She raised her brows.
“Where are your cowgirl boots, Texas?”
“These are more comfortable.”
Gian’s cousins, Vittorio and Giovanni, waited for them by the trees with buckets.
“Julia, these are Gian’s rowdy cousins,” Daniel introduced.
“Only trouble when Daniel here. Ready for farm work?” Giovanni asked.
“Absolutely, I’m an experienced peach farmer. Nice to meet you both.”
“Well, well, Daniel pick the right girl,” Vittorio said, winking, and handed Julia a basket.
Daniel cleared his throat and chose not to say anything. It was best to remain quiet where Gian’s family was concerned. He had spent many an evening partying in nearby towns with the Paccaloni men. He took a basket and waved them goodbye as they rode off on their tractor, smiling and waving.
There were ladders propped up by several trees, and Julia climbed up on one, not being tall enough to reach to upper branches. Daniel, at over six feet in height, had no need for a ladder.
“Daniel, only pick the bright orange ones,” Julia called out.
“I know.”
“How would you know?” Julia asked.
“I spent summers here, doing all kinds of farming chores.”
Julia picked a few apricots and dropped them into her basket, then looked at him, giggling.
“What?” he asked, handling the ripe fruit gently.
“I’m imagining you as a teen, in perfectly ironed clothes, doing farm chores. How did that work?”
“I’m not always concerned with being perfect.”
She picked another fruit. “Just being perfectly ironed and white.”
He huffed and placed fruit into his basket. “You don’t know me. I don’t mind getting dirty.”
The apricot hit him in the shoulder faster than he expected. He stared at Julia. She stood at the bottom of the ladder, the basket at her feet, her hands full of fruit that had fallen to the ground. The rotting smell reached his nostrils, and he watched in shock as the smear got larger, the juice of the fruit drizzling down his snow-white and very expensive shirt. “I can’t believe you would resort to this,” he said, unbuttoning the shirt.
“Still don’t care about getting dirty, right?” she called out.
“No, don’t, Julia!” He put out a hand in protest, but she was too quick. One hit his stomach, another hit his fingers before smashing onto his shoe.
“That’s it! You deserve it, then.” Daniel felt laughter building up in his stomach. He grabbed handfuls of the rotting fruit and launched them at her, precisely landing two on her legs and two on her back as she crouched to the ground, covering her hair. He rubbed one more into her hair as she retaliated and threw one clumsily at his neck. It slid all the way down his back, soggy and hot.
Daniel fell onto the ground next to Julia, laughing. She joined him, lying on her back, both of them covered in apricot juice. As disgusting as he felt, lying next to her, touching her, hearing her laughter was all he wanted for the rest of the day.
“We’re not much help around here, are we?” she asked.
“Not at all, I’m afraid. You are a poor influence on me.”
“Is there a hose or something I can get water from, to clean my hair?” She sat up, holding up sticky, tangled strands.
“Yes.” He stood up and offered her a hand, pulling her up. “Give me a minute.”
He went behind the shed and found the garden hose, then waited, chuckling into his fist. Julia stood looking around, shielding her eyes from the sun. As soon as she turned her back to him, he turned the hose on full blast.
“What is wrong with you?” Julia ran in circles, trying to avoid the blasts of water chasing her down.
“Just helping you get clean,” he said, looking away, whistling.
“Oh, I’m so going to get you back for this!” Julia laughed, wiping her face. She ran up to him and pulled the hose out of his hands, turning it on him and spraying it all over his body.
He turned away and ran behind the shed, but she chased after him. He changed his course half way through and met her, and she screamed and struggled against him until she had to give up the hose, whereupon he returned the stream of water, soaking her through until they both laughed so hard he felt he would collapse in pain.
“What is going on? Mamma mia!” A loud voice interrupted them over the sound of water still gushing out of the hose.
Julia tried to stand up but slipped and fell in the newly created mud. Daniel gave her a hand as Francesca turned off the faucet.
“Francesca, we’re so sorry. We were picking apricots.”
Julia burst into laughter at that, and he covered his mouth with the back of his hand to control his own.
Francesca shook her head. “If no apricots, then no apricot crostata for dinner. Look at your mess.”
Daniel looked around. Mud covered the ground, reaching all the way to the trees, soaking the rotten fruit and sinking the ladders. It would be much more difficult to harvest the fruit now.
“I’m so sorry,” Julia said. “I’m afraid it’s all my fault. We’ll get you enough apricots for your crostata.”
“Yes, don’t worry, Francesca. We’ll get it sorted,” Daniel said. It would be a pain, but he supposed there was no other choice.
“Get yourself cleaned up first. You are disgusting. And don’t faff around.” Francesca stormed off, muttering words under her breath.
“Don’t what?” Julia asked.
“Don’t dither. Don’t take too long,” Daniel explained.
“Don’t faff around,” Julia repeated. “I’ll remember this one.”
“It’s not proper English. She’s picked it up from Mandy, no doubt. Well, should we go get cleaned up?”
“Let’s get her more apricots real quick, first.”
They gathered apricots in silence for a few minutes, peeking glances at each other, smiling as they did. Daniel pretended to throw one but didn’t. They walked back to the kitchen with one basket, still dripping wet and dirty. There was no sight of Louisa or Francesca in the kitchen, so they left the basket on the table.
“I’ll go change, I guess,” Julia said.
Daniel pretended to chase after her again, to the amused glares of several guests lounging by the bar. As they reached the guest hallway, he pulled her toward the darkness of the family’s suite of rooms. Their bodies clung to each other, falling against the wall gently. He stroked her wet shoulders, feeling the fabric of the shirt clinging to her skin.
“You have goosebumps all over,” he whispered.
“You too,” she said, placing her hands on his hips, pulling him closer, wrapping her hands around his waist.
Daniel grasped her fingers, stretched her arms aside. He felt the entire length of her body then, only the soggy fabric between them. She was soft and warm underneath all that wetness. She moved her head slightly, her mouth closer to his, her eyes two shining circles in the darkness of the hallway, two magnets drawing him in. Daniel loved the color of her eyes, the bright blue, like the color of the Tuscan sky. He loved the way they sparkled when she smiled at him, and when she flirted with him, and even when she was angry with him. But especially he loved her eyes now, when she seemed to want him as much as he wanted her. There was nothing but an inch of air between their lips now, and Daniel thought for a moment he might lose his mind with desire.
But Mandy’s words broke through his mind’s fog and forced him take a step back from her. He wouldn’t do this to her. No matter how much he wanted to pick her up and carry her straight to his bed right that moment.
“Do you want to go out to dinner with me tonight?” he asked before anything else happened.
“Dinner sounds good,” she whispered, her chest moving fast, her eyes twinkling.
He ran off before his body betrayed him.
Chapter 15
Daniel checked his phone as he combed his hair. It was almost eight. Was Julia ready? He left the room and forced himself to walk slowly to meet her, to pretend the dinner out didn’t matter. It was just another evening with a friend. But all his pretenses melted away when he saw
Julia standing at the edge of the terrace, smelling a white rose on a blooming bush.
She wore another polka-dot dress. A blue one with white dots speckled all over it. The dress flowed in the early evening breeze, and she pressed it to her thighs with her hands. The other day, in Rome, it had been a red one with white dots. Retro.
“Ready?” he asked and was rewarded with her dimpled smile when she turned to him.
She wrinkled her nose, sniffing. “Apricots. I tried so hard to get them out of my hair, but I’m afraid it’s impossible,” she said as they walked down the driveway.
“It’s not your hair, it’s Francesca’s crostata. She’s quite angry, by the way, that we’re not staying for dinner to have some. I promised her we’d have some later if she saved us a piece.”
“I’d love to try some. She is an incredible baker,” Julia said.
“Yes, she and Louisa are the best around. I can’t find pastry like theirs anywhere in London. Here we are.” Daniel opened Julia’s car door and then walked around to his side.
“Did you get a new car?”
He nodded. “It was delivered earlier. Much better, right?”
Daniel was quite relieved about the car. No more tiny Fiat. This was a proper-sized, powerful, Audi RS5 V8. This car would race along Tuscany’s winding roads, and he couldn’t wait to try it out.
“If you love the cooking here so much, why are we going out to dinner?” Julia asked.
“Because, sometimes, it’s good to have a date without everyone in my family watching and asking questions.” His throat tightened as he took the road to Greve. He called it a date. Would she mind? They’d been dining out, traveling together, and had spent a night together on the side of the road, but neither of them had called it anything more than one person helping another.
The House by the Cypress Trees Page 11
