One thing was clear, though. As this spectacular woman looked at him with those dark, luminescent eyes, he saw the love she had for the man she was with: It was in her heart, radiating out of her.

Man, Vin diPietro was a full-load idiot to fuck this up.

Jim lifted his hand to her face and brushed off one of her tears. “Listen to me. You’re going to forget it ever happened. You’re going to lock it away and never think about it again, okay? If you don’t remember it, it’s not real. It didn’t happen.”

She sniffled a little. “Okay…all right.”

“Good girl.” Jim tucked a strand of her soft hair behind her ear. “And don’t worry, everything’s going to be okay.”

“How can you be so sure.”

And that was when it dawned on him. Maybe this was Vin’s crossroads—right here in front of the man, wanting to love him, hoping to get the chance, but losing the fight to stay connected. If the guy could just see what he had, and not as in his real estate or his cars or his statues and marble, but what really mattered, maybe he’d turn his life and soul around.

Devina blotted at one of her tears. “I’m running out of faith, it seems.”

“Don’t. I’m here to help.” Jim took a deep breath. “I’m going to make it okay.”

“Oh, God…you’re making me cry more.” Devina laughed and clasped his hand. “But thank you so much.”

Damn…those eyes of hers made him feel as if she’d reached in past his ribs and taken his heart into her delicate palm.

“Your name,” he whispered, “suits you.”

A blush flared in her cheeks. “In school, I used to hate it. I wanted to be Mary or Julie or something normal.”

“No, it’s perfect. I can’t imagine you being called anything else.” Jim glanced down at the phone and saw that the light was off. “He’s ended the call.”

She dabbed under both eyes. “I must be a mess. Here…let me give you some amuse-bouche. Take them to him and keep him busy in the study while I go fix myself.”

As he waited for her to come back from the kitchen, Jim finished his beer and wondered how in the hell he’d found himself in the role of Cupid.

Man, if those four lads even thought about getting him to wear the wings and a diaper while he nocked his arrow, he was so renegotiating his employment contract. And not with words.

Devina returned with a silver tray of bite-size somethings. “The study’s down that way. I’ll come get you both when I don’t look so weepy.”

“Roger that.” Jim took the tray, prepared to act the waiter and babysit diPietro. “I’ll keep him in there.”

“Thank you. For everything.”