Page 61 of Devil's Iris

ROMERO

I’ve contacted the wedding planner. We’re meeting with her tomorrow.

Oh, right. The wedding planning I’d insisted on being involved in to sell our love story. And now that the girls are seriously organizing a bachelorette, I’ll definitely have to meet this wedding planner—just in case they throw more questions at me during the party. At least then I’ll have something to say instead of staring at them like a deer in headlights.

Which means I can’t keep avoiding my husband-to-be.

I hesitate, then hit the call button. It barely rings before his voice fills my ear. “Bellezza.”

Oh God.

My throat squeezes as memories of last night flood back,and for a moment I can’t speak.Fucking get a grip.“I… just checked the closet,” I manage to push out.

“Ah, I see. I hope they all fit? I instructed Penelope to only send clothes in your size.”

So hedidarrange it last night. “Romero. We talked about this.”

“I’m positive I would remember if we had this conversation previously.”

“If you keep being nice to me and doing things that aren’t in the contract, I might fall in love with you,” I repeat my exact words from our engagement dinner, a little embarrassed once they are out, but I push on. “Does any of that sound familiar?”

The silence stretches so long I wonder if he has hung up. Then: “Would that be a bad thing? I don’t think so.”

My heart launches itself into my throat, working overtime as his words echo in my ears. “W–what?”

Before he can elaborate, I hear someone speaking on his end, probably demanding his attention. “Listen, we’ll discuss this later,bellezza.I gotta go.”

Then he hangs up, leaving me staring at my phone speechlessly.

Did he just suggest it wouldn't be bad if I fell in love with him?

What does that mean?

What does he mean?

22

LENI

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” I say as I slip into the back of the Maybach next to Romero, my heart already hammering. This is the first time I’m seeing him since thekissin this very backseat two nights ago—and that phone call the following morning that left me completely twisted up inside.

I’ve replayed both moments a thousand times, dissected every second until my brain felt like it might explode. Even when the girls blew up our group chat with their endless chatter, I could only focus for maybe five minutes before spiraling right back to him. To us. To whatever the hell this thing between us actually is.

So to cut the awkwardness, here’s my brilliant plan: dive straight in and tell him about the bachelorette party. Avoid talking about what happened in this car… and the phone call. Better to pretend it was all a fluke. Water under the bridge. He probably didn’t mean either of those two moments the way I’ve been thinking.He’s a man.Men do this stuff all the time without it meaning anything earth-shattering.

Right?

Romero glances up from his phone, and I inhale sharply atfinally having those striking green eyes pointed my way. God,I’ve missed him. It’s crazy, but I really have. “What is it?” His brow arches when I just sit there like a mute idiot, drinking in the sight of him.

I clear my throat, forcing my brain to function. “The girls—Elira, Gia, and Emily—they added me to a group chat,” I start. The words feel clumsy on my tongue. Now that I’m actually saying this out loud, I’m not sure how he’s going to react. He tilts his head, silently prompting me to continue.

“Well, you know how they asked me about the wedding before? Somehow the conversation moved to bachelorette parties, and they were absolutely appalled at the idea of me not having one.”

“Well, it is what it is.” He shrugs. “There’s no reason to have a bachelorette party. I’m not having a bachelor party.”

I lick my lips nervously. Here goes nothing. “Maybe you should look into getting one… because they’re already planning one for me.”

“What?”