If Ever I Fall (Rhode Island Romance #1) (14 page)

“Tony told me that
you own an event business?” she asked Julia.

The other woman’s
face brightened. “Yes. My parents started the business thirty years ago, and I
purchased it from them last month so they can finally retire.”

“What kind of
events do you do?”

“Both corporate and
social events. Mostly parties and fundraisers. I’m not a wedding planner, thank
God. You couldn’t
pay
me to do that. It’s crazy enough planning my own
wedding, let alone someone else’s.”

“Have you set a
date for your wedding yet?” Audrey inquired.

“A year from June.
June twentieth.” She glanced at Joe, who was staring down at his plate, fork
clutched tightly in his right hand. “We confirmed the date just last night,
actually. We’ve been waiting to hear back from the church pastor. It was an
exhausting process. We had to fill out a ton of paperwork and go through a few
interviews.”

“Oh, yeah?”
Collette said. “That sounds a little extreme. Must be a popular church?”

“St. Mary’s Church
in Newport.” Julia’s face glowed as she looked around the table. “That’s where
John F. Kennedy and Jacqueline Bouvier were married. It’s been my mother’s
dream
for me to get married there!”

“Wow,” Shirley said
with genuine awe. “Lucky you. My first husband and I got married at the Little
White Wedding Chapel in Vegas. Seventy-five bucks, ten minutes, and we were
done.”

Audrey snorted.
“Did Elvis serenade you?”

“No. That would’ve
cost another two hundred bucks. We blew all our money on the slots.” Shirley
winked at Julia. “We were both twenty-one and feeling rebellious. Drove across
the country in a silver Chevy Chevette, but we ran out of money for gas on the
way back. Sold it to this old guy in Barstow who said he was an Indian Chief,
and then we hitchhiked back to Rhode Island.”

Julia blinked.

“And that was just
her
first
husband,” Mercy said.

“You girls should
write a book about all your adventures,” Tony suggested.

Audrey shrugged one
elegant shoulder. “If we did, it would have to have a warning label on it.
Collette, pass me the maple syrup.”

“Where will the
reception be?’ Mercy asked Julia.

Julia glanced at
Joe again. This time he gave her a brief smile and draped his arm along the
back of her chair. She smiled back before returning her gaze to Mercy. “Since
I’m in the event business, and my own company would do the setup, we can afford
to book one of the pricier venues. Plus, I’m an only child. My mom and dad want
to give me the wedding of my dreams. I’d love to have it at one of the Newport
mansions, or maybe at Blithewold Mansion in Bristol. My company is on the
preferred vendor list at most of the locations I’m interested in.” She gave Joe
an affectionate look. “Whatever we decide, we’ll have to send the deposit in
within the next few weeks. These places book up quickly, especially for June.”

A shadow, so brief
it was almost imperceptible, fell across Joe’s face. “We can talk about that
tonight,” he murmured.

Julia knit her
brow. She leaned closer to him and whispered something in his ear. He gave a
swift shake of his head and a smile that was probably meant to be reassuring
but looked stiff.

“Damn, that was
wicked good,” Tony said, filling the strange silence that had settled around
the table. “Anyone mind if I grab seconds?”

“Fine with me,”
Collette said. “But save room for the apple pie.”

Julia
was beautiful
, Willa thought, sitting
in silence as Collette drove them back to Conimicut. Both inside and out. Just
as Willa had suspected.

Julia was several
inches taller than Willa, slender with a graceful bearing that hinted at ballet
lessons somewhere in her youth. Long, sleek blond hair draped to her shoulders.
Flirty bangs drew attention to unusual amber eyes and a generous mouth set in a
heart-shaped face.

She had a sweet, kind
face, a gentle manner. She was perfect for him…

“She’s
too
nice,” Collette said as they neared the house.

“There’s nothing
wrong with being too nice,” Willa muttered.

“There is in the
bedroom,” Collette retorted. “No man wants a nice girl in the bedroom. No
matter how he says differently.”

“They look perfect
together.”

“Like those
figurines on top of a wedding cake. But they crack and lose their paint
eventually.”

“You’re being very
pessimistic.”

“Yes, I can be. I’m
divorced. My ex cheated on me. I tell you, Willa, if I knew then what I know
now… I sure as hell wish someone had told me I was making a mistake before
I
got married.”

“We have no right
to interfere.”

“Hold that thought.
Let’s wait until the girls get here.”

“They’re coming
over?”

“Yep. We’re going
to have a little powwow.”

“You can powwow all
you want at your place. I’m going to my apartment.”

“Then we’ll come to
you.”

Willa sighed.
“You’ll be wasting your time.”

Five minutes later,
all four women swept into Willa’s apartment and surrounded her where she sat in
the lone armchair, arms folded stiffly across her chest.

“He spoke hardly
one word—”

“Did you see the
way he smiled at—”

“Tony looked mad
as—”

“Willa, you
cannot
let—”

“Enough!” Willa
held up her hands. “Sit down and shut up. All of you.”

They all stared at
her, mouths agape. She’d never raised her voice at them like that before. After
exchanging shocked glances with each other, they all sat down, Shirley and
Collette on the loveseat, Mercy and Audrey on the ottoman.

Willa sighed. When
she spoke, her voice was flat and even. “We cannot and
will
not
interfere with Joe’s life. He’s made a commitment to Julia. He loves her.”

Audrey shook her
head. “He might love her, but what I saw between them wasn’t a passionate love,
Willa. It was more like friendship.”

“Well, what’s wrong
with that?” Willa protested. “I’ve read that passion fizzles. Relationships
built on friendship have a higher success rate. The average—”

“Don’t start spouting
statistics, hon,” Collette pleaded. “This isn’t some textbook we’re looking at.
This is Joe we’re talking about. The man you love.”

Willa emitted a
scoffing sound. “How can I possibly love him? I only met him three weeks ago.
That’s not logical!”

“Logic has nothing
to do with it,” Mercy said. “Look at me and Don. He’s bald and tends to smell
like cheese. But I still love him. Where’s the logic in that?”

Shirley giggled.

Collette leaned
forward, her face earnest. “Joe spoke hardly a word during the entire meal.
Except for when you first arrived, he didn’t look at you once.”

“Well, there you
go,” Willa said flippantly. “He didn’t look at me because he’s not interested
in me.”

“Bullshit,” Mercy
said primly.

“He stops coming to
the jobsite, and you’ve been miserable all week,” Collette observed. “Something
happened between you two. Tell us.”

“I can’t.”

Audrey placed her
hand on Willa’s knee. “He could barely keep his eyes off of you when you were
at my place last weekend. When you looked up, he’d glance away. Do you know
that when you left, he stood on the corner and watched you until you were out
of sight?”

“He wouldn’t have
done that with Sylvie there,” Willa said, disbelieving.

“She’d come back
inside to ask me about a bracelet.”

Willa lowered her
eyes from their inquisitive faces. She pressed her palms to her warm cheeks.
“You don’t understand,” she whispered. “He’s known Julia all his life. He’s a
good man. He made a commitment to her, and he’s going to keep his word.”

“What has he told
you?”

Slowly, grudgingly,
she told the girls what they didn’t know yet. About the fire that had killed
his parents, Joe dropping out of college, the sacrifices he had made to take
care of his brother and sister, the way Julia and her parents had stepped in to
help, how Julia had always been there for him.

“Well, this all
suddenly makes more sense now,” Collette said when Willa finished. “This is why
I felt something wasn’t right. I’m glad I listened to my gut and pushed Tony to
invite them to the breakfast. I had to see those two together before I knew for
sure.”

“Explain,” Audrey
ordered.

“The way I see it,
hon,” Collette said, giving Willa a level look. “Joe marrying Julia is just
another example of him sacrificing his true desires in the name of taking care
of his family.”

“He’s doing what he
thinks
is the right thing, the expected thing,” Shirley chimed in.
“Because that’s what he’s always done. And it will end up killing him.”

Willa pursed her
lips. “I didn’t realize you were all licensed psychiatrists.”

Audrey shook her
head firmly. “We’re women who’ve been on this earth over twenty-five years
longer than you have. We’ve seen a lot and learned a lot. And we see a man
who’s going to make the biggest mistake of his life unless we do something
about it.”

“He’s made his choice,”
Willa persisted. “You have no right to make it for him.”

“It’s not just Joe
we’ll be helping,” Mercy said, ignoring Willa. “It’s Tony, too.”

“You saw it, too?”
Shirley asked gleefully. “I only caught that one look he gave her when she was
whispering in Joe’s ear.”

“I picked up on it
the instant they all sat down at the table,” Audrey said. “Before Collette and
Willa arrived. Mercy was talking with Joe. Tony pulled out Julia’s chair and
put his hand on her shoulder. Just a quick touch. But there was something in
his eyes. She gave him a scolding look.”

“Poor Tony,” Mercy
said. “It appears to be one-sided.”

“She probably still
thinks of him as a boy,” Audrey agreed. “Her eyes were only for Joe.”

“I don’t know,”
Shirley mulled. “I got the feeling that Julia is more in love with the
idea
of love and that spectacular wedding she’s planning more than she’s in love
with Joe. The way she went on about
her
dreams and
her
wedding...”

Willa held up one
hand. “Wait. Are you all suggesting that Tony is in love with Julia? In a
romantic way?”

Audrey nodded. “He
looks at her the way Joe looks at you.”

“That’s impossible.
Tony implied to me that she’s like a sister to him.”

“Maybe he’s seen
her that way until only recently,” Audrey speculated. “Maybe
he
still
doesn’t know that his feelings go deeper.” She clasped her hands under her
chin, a pleased, scheming look in her eyes. “What these boys have needed all
these years are some wise aunts to guide them in the right direction. Oh, don’t
give us that worried look, Willa. We won’t get into their business, just maybe
give a gentle little nudge here and there. I can’t
wait
to see how this
all plays out.”

The
phone rang on Sunday night just as Willa was placing a sheet of cookies in the
oven. She’d spent the remainder of the weekend perfecting a gluten-free recipe.
She’d already invited Shirley to come over on Monday to try them out.

“Do you have any
plans for this Tuesday?” Veronica asked without preamble.

“Nothing major.”
Just another day of keeping busy so she wouldn’t think too much about Joe.
“Why?”

“Sam and I will
pick you up at nine o’clock. We’re meeting Steve over at Joe’s shop.”

“Joe’s shop?”

“His cabinet shop.
It’s in a section of their warehouse a few blocks away from their office.”

Willa sat down at
the kitchen counter, all her senses on high alert. “Why are we going to his
cabinet shop?”

“He’s made some
progress with the wall unit. I want you to see what he’s done.”

“I want to be
surprised at the final reveal.”

“You
will
be
surprised with the final result. We’re just going to have you take a look at
what he’s done so far, make sure he’s heading in the right direction.”
Veronica’s tone brooked no arguments. “This is an important part of the
narrative, Willa. Sam’s put together the storyboard for most of the episode,
and this segment will be key.”

“Does Joe know
we’re coming?”

“Of course. I spoke
with him a few minutes ago. Steve is going to shoot an interview with him
before we arrive so Joe can bring everyone up to speed on your bakery project.
I don’t mind giving your new business a plug. I’m a big supporter of
entrepreneurial women. And I know our viewers will like that, too.”

Willa sensed the
authenticity behind Veronica’s obvious flattery. She hesitated. “Are you sure
Joe is okay with this?”

Veronica sighed.
“I’m really beginning to wonder if there’s something going on with you two. He
asked me the same thing about you. But the bottom line is this: I’m the field
producer. I’m accountable to network execs who will chew my ass out if I don’t
deliver the story they’re looking for. And—if you read the fine print on your
contract—it essentially says that what I say goes.” Veronica’s voice turned
coaxing. “Besides, Willa, this will be good for Joe, too. I want to establish
him as the furniture and cabinetry expert on this series. This is the first
shoot we’ll be doing inside his shop. Of all the things we discussed during the
audition process, designing and building furniture was the one thing that man
was passionate about.”

“Hello,
Willa.”

“Hello.”

She wondered if she
was the only one who heard the apology and frustration behind Joe’s
camera-ready smile. She gave him a practiced smile of her own and a brief
handshake.

He was wearing
jeans and a cotton plaid shirt in shades of turquoise and gray. He had the
sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing tanned, corded forearms, lightly
coated with dark hair. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, baring the
intriguing hollow where clavicle met breastbone. His face was clean-shaven. He
looked tired. Signs of stress lurked around his eyes and mouth.

She pressed her
lips together and glanced away from him, forcing her eyes to look around the large
shop space.

There were two
plywood work tables, a table saw, shelving and pegs stocked with various
hardware items and tools she wasn’t familiar with. There was a compressor in
one corner and what appeared to be a spray booth occupying the entire back
wall. Long racks along the left-side wall were filled with sheets and boards of
wood.

Something draped
with a furniture blanket sat on the floor between the two work tables. There
was an unfinished, rustic-looking bench on one of the tables. Wood clamps
secured the curved seat to the trestle legs.

The room smelled of
fresh sawdust and carpenter’s glue and Joe’s pleasing male scent.

“This is nice,”
Willa said, speaking for the camera as she walked towards the bench. “Did you
make this?”

Joe came to stand
beside her, his body mere inches from hers. He ran the palm of his hand along
the surface of the bench. “Yes. This top piece here I pulled out of an old barn
in Coventry. This was a section of the flooring. It’s hickory. You can’t find
hickory boards in this width anymore. This came from a tree that was over one
hundred years old.”

Her eyes followed
his hand as it traced the grains of the bench seat. Without conscious thought,
she placed her hand on the bench, just a few inches away from his. The wood was
cool and rough beneath her palm. “It’s beautiful,” she praised. “Is everything
you build made from old wood?”

“Reclaimed wood,”
he explained, a trace of pride in his voice. “Yes, I spend a lot of my free
time researching and finding salvaged wood throughout New England. I’m a big
believer in reusing and repurposing.”

“It’s environmental
engineering in a way,” she noted, giving him a meaningful sideways glance.

His hand moved a
hairsbreadth away from hers, his pinky finger slowly stretched out until the
tip barely touched the tip of her pinky finger. “Yes,” he said under his
breath, his voice hoarse.

There was a long
pause. Willa could hardly breathe. Joe appeared to be having the same problem.
Finally, he cleared his throat and removed his hand from the bench. “I’m glad
you came over today,” he said in his normal voice. “Come and take a look at
what I’ve done with the wall unit so far.”

He stepped over to
the blanket-draped item. “I thought you’d like to have some kind of office
space in the kitchen. You know, a place for a computer where you can look up
recipes, or write down your own. Tony and I modified the layout to allow room
for a built-in desk with a hutch.”

Steve moved closer
with his camera. Willa took a calming breath. “That sounds great. Right now I’m
using my kitchen counter for a desk. I’m constantly shoving things out of the
way. It would be great to have a permanent place for my notes and recipes.”

Joe slowly pulled
the blanket aside. “This isn’t finished yet, but you might recognize a few
things.”

A deep pang of
emotion squeezed her heart as she took in what Joe had created for her. He’d
used the right-hand set of drawers from the wall unit as a desk pedestal and modified
one of the other drawers to fabricate a pencil drawer. The wood top had a
similar grain but was unfinished.

“Right now I’m
mixing different stains together to get the exact match,” he explained, showing
her a narrow board with blocks of different stain colors on it. “I’m pretty
sure the original stain color was fruitwood, but it’s darkened through the
years. It takes years and years to get that beautiful patina on the wood, so I
don’t want to refinish the pedestal. Unless you’d like a different color?”

“No,” Willa said
softly. “I want to keep it just as it is.” She looked Joe straight in the eyes.
“This is perfect. I can’t wait to see the final product.”

His eyes gleamed.
His mouth curved in a smile that conveyed both relief and masculine
satisfaction. “You like it then,” he concluded, his voice soft, searching.

“Yes. Very much.
Thank you.”

There was so much
more she wished she could say. Like how surprised and pleased she’d been to
learn he had his own cabinet shop. Or how she liked the way his face lit up
when he talked about what he’d built and where the wood came from. Or how she
wished he’d run his hand across her skin the same way he had caressed the
hickory bench. Most of all, she wished she could tell him how much she missed
talking with him, being with him.

But she couldn’t
say any of those things. So she just gazed up at him, hoping her unspoken words
weren’t written on her face.

“Cut,” Veronica
said. “Good job, guys.”

In
the car on the way back to Conimicut, Veronica was practically in raptures over
the shoot. “It couldn’t have gone better if it
was
scripted,” she said.
“And, Willa, you’ve absolutely transformed in front of the cameras.”

“What do you mean?”

“Please don’t take
this the wrong way, but on the first couple of shoots you came across as
very…stilted. After I reviewed it with the editors, we decided to rely more
heavily on voice-over narration for those sections. Something changed at the demolition
shoot, and today you were almost completely natural.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

Either Veronica
didn’t hear the sarcasm in Willa’s voice or chose not to hear it. She continued
at full throttle. “I was right about the theme for this episode, wasn’t I Sam.
It’s all about new beginnings, fresh starts. We’re not just renovating a house,
Willa. We’re renovating
you
. Sam, are you writing this down?”

“Yes, Veronica.”

The
remainder of the week dragged. Willa wasn’t needed at the house. In fact, Tony
told her, they were almost to the point where he didn’t want her coming into
the house at all. He wanted as much of the remodel as possible to be a
surprise.

“We need to do one
more day of furniture shopping, in case Veronica didn’t tell you. There are a
couple more sponsors we still need to hit. I also want to swing by our
warehouse so you can go through your aunt’s furniture and decide if there’s
anything you want to keep. Joe said he might be interested in buying whatever
you don’t want and repurposing it. I can fit that in for next Monday. Does that
work for you?”

“Sure.”

They were standing
at the bottom of the apartment stairs. Willa had just returned from her weekly
grocery shopping, and Tony had shouted from the house for her to hold on a
second.

He was covered in
sheetrock dust. A tool belt was slung over his lean, jean-clad hips. She found
herself wondering how Julia could remain so completely oblivious to this
handsome, charming man’s appeal. This train of thought led her to other
questions that had been bothering her.

“I enjoyed meeting Julia
the other day,” she said carefully. “She seems like a nice person.”

Tony’s entire face
smiled. “Collette told me the same thing. Yeah, Julia’s a sweetheart. You’d
think she’d act like a spoiled princess the way her mom and dad raised her. But
she has a good heart.”

“So… Do you look at
her as a mother figure?”

The smile vanished.
His face reddened. He cleared his throat. “Never. I was a first class asshole
during my teenage years, remember? I took out a lot of anger and frustration on
her. I made it very clear to her that she was never going to replace my mom. I
was taller than her, even then, so mostly I treated her like she was my little
sister. I teased her a lot, not always in a nice way. She hated that. I was the
only one who ever got her riled up.”

Willa gave an
astonished laugh. “I can’t picture her getting mad about anything.”

“Oh, she has her
moments. But only with me, strangely. When I was a senior in high school, my
uncle came to stay with us for a month. He was on leave from a tour of duty in
Afghanistan. He caught me sassing her one day. He hauled me out to the backyard
and smacked that sass right out of me.” He gave a rueful shake of his head. “Julia
watched the whole thing, but didn’t say a word. She just stood there on the
back porch, crying her eyes out. I swore right there and then that I’d never do
anything to make her cry again.”

And there it was.
The love that the girls had seen. His eyes glowed with a soft light as he
reminisced about that day. Willa found herself on the verge of asking him if he
was in love with his brother’s fiancée, but bit her tongue. Maybe Audrey was
right. Maybe Tony still didn’t realize how he truly felt about Julia.

“Does she live with
Joe?”

“No.” His tone
turned abrupt. “Joe, Sylvie and I still share the house we grew up in. It was
the economical thing to do, especially with how tough things have been in this
state for the last few years. It helps that the house is a three-decker. We all
have our own space. Anyway, Joe wasn’t comfortable with her moving in. And her
parents still live next door. They’re a bit old-fashioned. Julia lives in an
apartment above her office in Providence.”

Relief washed
through Willa. She’d been imagining Joe and Julia sharing a home together.
Sleeping in the same bed every night.

“She seems to be
very excited about the wedding,” she said. “But she didn’t say anything about
their plans for after the wedding. Will they buy a house together? Or will you
and Sylvie move out?”

Tony looked at the
ground, kicked the toe of his boot in the dirt. He crossed his arms over his
chest. His expression became increasingly more morose as he spoke. “Joe hasn’t
discussed it with us yet. Whenever Julia comes over to the house, all the
conversation revolves around the wedding, the ceremony, the reception. She does
most of the talking.”

“I think that’s
normal for a bride-to-be, isn’t it?”

He lifted his head,
giving her a direct look. His sudden grin seemed forced. “Between you and me,
Willa. I liked the way Shirley did it. Quick and easy, no fuss. Do you think Julia
would go for that?”