Page 38 of The Wedding Crush

Nothing about what I’m looking at meshes with the person I’ve built up in my head.

Stefano releases an impressed chuckle. “Whoa! A ninety-five-year-old Corvette, huh?”

Ace is tickled pink, like an almost centenarian car is both unfathomable and the funniest thing he’s ever heard. My son lets loose an infectious, musical laugh that warms my insides.

“No, silly,” he says. “That’s his number. He’s a race car.”

“Ohhhhh…”

Adrenaline rushes through me, and I’m secondhand elated.

“God, he’s so good with kids,” I whisper to Morgan.

It was an observation. Really, just me, musing about how easily Stefano is getting along with my son.

But my best friend doesn’t miss the opportunity to help me reconsider a friendship with him.

“Well, you know he and Carina tried…” To have babies, she means. “Dante said they miscarried twice, and it took a huge toll on them. IVF and adoption weren’t part of their plan either.”

My throat tightens, as I put two and two together.

“Do you think fertility was at the root of their divorce?”

“Girl, you never know what happens in people’s marriages, but I’m sure it didn’t help.”

I cover my heart with my hand, now, inching closer still. I’m overwhelmed with emotion for a man who I thought I’d figured out. He’s been through the depths of hell, his heart broken repeatedly. Of course, he’s concerned for his brother. Of course, he’s holding on to what family he’s got left.

I look again at this man with his impeccable grooming and a full head of salt-and-pepper curls. His intense brown eyes seem softer the way he’s engaging with Ace.

Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed with a harrowing realization.

We go about it differently, but Stefano Fortemani and I want the same thing. We want to shield our loved one from the pain we’ve experienced.

I get a light, floaty feeling in my chest.

Ace clearly has no clue what Stefano’s talking about, but Ace looks up at him like a car-loving god, evidently eager to add value to the subject when he contributes, an excellent point that, “Sally is a blue car. She’s Lightning McQueen’s girlfriend.”

Evidently, enjoying this conversation more than he might’ve imagined, Stefano masks his snickers.

“Sally, you say?”

Naturally, Ace fishes out a happy blue miniature car with big cartoon eyes from his pocket.

“Ah, a Porsche.” Stefano’s eyes light up. “I’ve got a black one parked at my house, not too far from here, in Healdsburg. If you ever come back to visit, I’ll bring my car.”

Ace’s shoulders sag at his sides. “I live in Fracisco.”

Morgan shoots me a chastising glare. “You really need to teach your kid not to tell all y’all’s business to strangers.”

“That’s the thing, he normally wouldn’t,” I say. “He usually runs from strangers.”

Wistfully, I watch them together, two guys discussing cars, the way I’ll likely never be able to. And I know this might just be a phase, but I realize Ace needs strong male role models in his life to answer all the questions I can’t.

“How about this?” Stefano claps his hands. “Let me help you find your mom. I’m sure she’s worried sick about you. Then if she’s okay with it, we’ll get you back out here for a ride with Sally.”

Ace’s bright brown eyes sparkle with excitement.

Morgan and I barely make it to the steps before they wander up the path.

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