I shiver.
“Be good,” he warns, and stalks from the kitchen.
“Well, well.” Lula fans herself. “That was unexpected.” There’s a real smile on her face. My heartrate slows. Somewhat. A little bit.
She leans on the marble island. “I’ve never known him to be so romantic.”
“Really?” I wrinkle my nose, even though internally, I'm freaking out. “He’s the most romantic guy I know.”
“Maybe with you.”
I don’t know how to handle that, so I grab a drying pan and wipe it down with a dishrag.
“How did you two meet?” Lula asks.
“I served him coffee. Um, a few days ago.”
The oven buzzer sounds and I busy myself taking out the trays and setting out the muffins on racks to cool. Lula watches with narrowed eyes. Is she judging me? Or is she just thinking?
I set a muffin on a small plate. The chocolate and dried cranberry mixture turned out well. “Do you want one?”
“Absolutely.” She wastes no time tearing off the paper liner and breaking the muffin open, cooing at the delicious steam. “This is amazing. I didn’t know Royal had anything other than takeout menus in this kitchen.”
“He said he bought the stuff for me.” Of course he did. He’s not the type to have muffin tins lying around.
“Oh my god, that’s good,” Lula moans. “No wonder Royal wants to marry you.”
“You know about that?”
“It’s kind of obvious.” She nods to the giant diamond on my finger. “That, and the way he looks at you. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone.”
“Really?” I lean on the island, picking at my own muffin, hungry for nothing but details about Royal. “I’d think women would be all over him.”
“They are,” Lula says with her mouth full.
She can’t seem to eat her muffin fast enough, and that relaxes me even more. I can get along with anyone who likes my food.
“My cousin doesn’t pay attention. He doesn’t date. He barely notices women.” She stabs the air with a manicured finger. “I take that back. There was someone he mentioned. Someone he met at a coffee shop.”
“Oh?” I try to keep my voice casual, but the blood is roaring in my ears.
“Yeah. A girl who helped him last year’s Valentine's Day. Her boyfriend had just broken up with her but she saw Royal was bleeding and bandaged his hands.” Lula tilts her head. “Was that you?”
I lick my lips. Dumped before Valentine’s Day? Sounds like me. But wouldn’t I remember helping someone like Royal? “I don't know. I don't remember.”
“Hmm.” Lula pouts at her empty plate and picks at the remaining crumbs. “Must have been some otherpanetteria. Anyway,” she dusts off her hands, seemingly unaware of the bomb she’s dropped on my head, “I’m glad he found you.”
“I don't know what's going on,” I blurt. “I just met him a few days ago and now… he says he’s going to marry me?”
“I'd believe him.” Lula’s poking around the kitchen. She opens a tin and fishes out one of the cookies I baked last night. “He's already booked the church.”
I crumple a dish towel in my hands. “I'm waiting for him to tell me this is all a misunderstanding.”
Lula takes a bite of the cookie. Her lashes flutter rapidly. “Wow, that's good,” she mutters. She points the remaining cookie at me. “I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you. Once Royal gets an idea into his head, he doesn't tend to let it go. He's always been like that, ever since he was a child. Drove his father crazy,” she adds in a mutter.
“Did you grow up with him?”
“No, we were together a lot when we were young, but then his dad shipped him off to the Old Country. He grew up with my aunt. She raised him. Uncle Vinnie—that’s Royal’s dad—swore he'd never let Royal run the family, but Auntie B pulls more strings from across the pond than Uncle Vinnie would like.” Lula tilts her head, like she’s dispensing a secret. “She doesn't get along with her brother. Between you and me, not many of us are fans of Uncle Vinnie, but he’s the boss so we all toe the line. Except for Royal.”
