The Best Man and The Wedding Planner

“Can we keep the light on?” The question came out in a harsh rasp.

“I think we should conserve it, just in case.”

“Just in case what?” It took a huge effort to keep any squeak out of her voice. “The truck doesn’t come?”

“Just in case. Here—” He reached across the center console and took her hand, warming it in his. “You’re shaking. Are you cold?” He dropped her hand to reach behind him. “Take my jacket.”

She leaned forward and the heavy weight of his suit jacket wrapped around her shoulders. The satin lining slid coolly over her skin but quickly heated up. The scent of Zach clung to the material and she found it oddly comforting.

“Thank you. You won’t be cold?”

She heard the rustle of movement and pictured him shrugging. “I’m okay right now. Hopefully the tow truck will get here before the cold seeps in. Worst case, we can move into the backseat and cuddle together under the jacket.”

Okay, that option was way too tempting.

“Or you could get another one out of your luggage.”

His chuckle preceded another crash of thunder. “Pixie girl, I don’t know if my ego can survive you.”

Maybe the dark wasn’t so bad since he hadn’t seen her flinch. Then his words struck her. “Pixie girl? That’s the second time you called me that.”

“Yes. Short and feisty. You remind me of a pixie.”

“I am average,” she stated with great dignity. “You’re a giant.”

“You barely reach my shoulder.”

“Again, I refer you to the term ‘giant.’” She checked her phone, welcoming the flare of light, but they were in the Italian version of Timbuktu so of course there was no service.

“Uh-huh. Feisty, pretty and short. Pixie it is.”

Pretty? He’d called her that before, too. Pleasure bolstered her drooping spirits. She almost didn’t care when the light faded again. Not that his admission changed her feelings toward him. He was a dangerous, charming man but she didn’t have to like him just because he thought she was pretty. He was still off limits.

Hopefully he took her silence as disdain.

Right. On the positive side, the bit of vanity served to distract her for a few minutes. Long enough for headlights to appear on the horizon. No other vehicles had passed them in the twenty minutes she’d been awake so she said a little prayer that the approaching headlights belonged to their repair truck.

“Is the repair service coming from Monte Calanetti? How far away do you think we are?” She feared the thought of walking, but she didn’t want to stay in the car all night, either.

“We’re nowhere near Monte Calanetti,” Zach announced. “By my guess we’re about ten miles outside Caprese.”

“Caprese?” Lindsay yelped in outrage. Caprese was the small village where the artist Michelangelo was born. “That’s the other direction from Monte Calanetti from Florence. What are we doing here?”

“I told you last night. I have an errand to run for Antonio before I go to Monte Calanetti. It’s just a quick stop to check on his groomsmen gifts and do a fitting.”

“You so did not tell me.”

“I’m pretty sure I did. You really can’t hold your champagne, can you?”

“Stop saying ‘champagne brain.’ When did we have this conversation? Did I actually participate or was I sleeping?”

“You were talking, but I suppose you might have dozed off. You got quiet toward the end. I thought you were just involved in the movie. And then I fell asleep.”

“Well, I don’t remember half of what you’ve told me. You should have reminded me of the plans we supposedly made this morning. I need to get to Monte Calanetti and I need my own car. I know you’re trying to be helpful but...”

“But I got you stuck out in the middle of nowhere. And you’re already tired from the flight. I’m sorry.”

Lindsay clenched her teeth in frustration watching as the headlights slowly moved closer. Sorry didn’t fix the situation. She appreciated the apology—many men wouldn’t have bothered—but it didn’t get her closer to Monte Calanetti. She had planned to hit the road running tomorrow with a visit to the wedding venue, the Palazzo di Comparino and restored chapel, before meeting with Christina in the afternoon.

Now she’d have to reschedule, move the interview back.

“Lindsay?” Zach prompted. “Are you okay?”

“I’m trying to rearrange my schedule in my head.” She glanced at her watch, which she’d already adjusted to local time. Seven-fifteen. It felt much later. “What do you think our chances are of getting to Monte Calanetti tonight?”

“Slim. I doubt we’ll find a mechanic willing to work on the Land Rover tonight. We’ll probably have to stay over and head out tomorrow after it’s fixed.”

“If they have the necessary part.”

“That will be a factor, yes. Here’s our help.” A small pickup honked as it drove past them then made a big U-turn and pulled up in front of them.

Zach hopped out to meet the driver.

Lindsay slid her arms into Zach’s jacket and went to join them.

“Think it’s the timing belt.” Zach aimed his flashlight at the engine as he explained the problem to the man next to him. Their savior had gray-streaked black hair and wore blue coveralls. The name on his pocket read Luigi.

“Ciao, signora,” the man greeted her.

She didn’t bother to correct him, more eager to have him locate the problem than worried about his assumption that she and Zach were married.

The driver carried a much bigger flashlight. The power of it allowed the men a much better view of the internal workings of the Land Rover. The man spoke pretty good English and he and Zach discussed the timing belt and a few other engine parts, none of which Lindsay followed but she understood clearly when he said he’d have to tow them into Caprese.

Wonderful.

Luigi invited her to sit in his truck while he got the Land Rover hooked up to be towed. She nodded and retrieved her purse. Zach walked her to the truck and held the door for her. The interior smelled like grease and cleanser, but it was neat and tidy.

“From what I remember from my research of Italy, small is a generous adjective when describing Caprese. At just over a thousand residents, ‘tiny’ would be more accurate. I’m not sure it has a hotel if we need to stay over.”

“I’m sure there’ll be someplace. I’ll ask Luigi. It’s starting to rain. I’m going to see if I can help him to make things go faster.” He closed the door and darkness enveloped her.

The splat of rain on the windshield made her realize her ire at the situation had served to distract her from the looming storm. With its arrival, she forgot her schedule and just longed for sturdy shelter and a warm place to spend the night.

A few minutes later the men joined her. Squeezed between them on the small bench seat, she leaned toward Zach to give Luigi room to drive. The first right curve almost put her in Zach’s lap.

“There’s a bed-and-breakfast in town. Luigi’s going to see about a room for us there.” Zach spoke directly into her ear, his warm breath blowing over her skin.

She shivered. That moment couldn’t come soon enough. The closer they got to town, the harder it rained. Obviously they were headed into the storm rather than away from it.