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Yet there was still so much more below the surface to discover.
I’d seen a side of her today that I wasn’t expecting. Seeing such a strong woman crumble was hard. Witnessing it twice was even worse. But seeing her break because of me was fucking unbearable. It took me back to a place I despised. Over ten years ago, watching my strong mother break every night in silence, losing a piece of herself with each shedding tear. I wasn’t that man. I’d never be that man.
There wasn’t enough strength in me to stop myself from following her into that library. As soon as I saw her tears, I wanted nothing more than to never see them fall again. She fought me off her at first, but as soon as she gave into my embrace, my frozen heart melted as I held her against my chest.
She could have thought I was bringing her solace, but in fact, she was the one who brought me peace as her sobs lessened in my arms.
Never in my life would I have thought that was what I aspired to be for someone.
Security. Peace. Home.
I could have chosen anyone. But something in me wouldn’t have anyone but her. She had stirred me inside in a way no one had even come close to. Not the very few women I’d dated and most certainly not the many I had fucked.
I knew she was different from the moment she shot me in the ass.
So, saying I was looking forward to a moment alone with her, in a reality shielding bubble, was an understatement. That honeymoon could very well be what I needed to break that wall of hers and pick up where we left things against that oak tree.
Francesca craved me just as much as I craved her, she just wasn’t allowing herself to feel it. I could see it right now in the battle raging in her eyes at the mention of the trip.
“Worst case scenario, we have a good time. Can’t see anything wrong with that.” I watched her face go from uncertainty to fierce conviction. She wasn’t giving in so easily.
“Yes, but don’t expect–”
The sound of tires squealing on the asphalt cut her off. A black SUV drove by, freshly pulled from the curb on the opposite side of the street, making a U-turn just as you’d see in the movies. All I focused on were the two windows on our side rolling down.
Without hesitating, I tackled Francesca to the ground, dropping all my body weight on top of her.
I spread out as much as I could, trying to cover her while bullets flew in every direction.
I’d made a poor judgment call, trusting our safety to my men, so I wasn’t packing. It was my wedding day, for fucks sake. Bad fucking move.
“Jesus fuck!” I roared as I felt the sting of something on my leg. I’d been shot before, and that wasn’t exactly the same pain.
“My right leg!” Francesca shouted beneath me, immobile under my massive body. “There’s a gun in my garter. Inner thigh.”
Fuck! If we weren’t being shot at and my leg wasn’t stinging like a bitch, I could have gotten rock-hard right there.
No. I was wrong, none of that stopped my cock from twitching.
I pulled her dress up her legs, my left hand dragging along the silky skin of her thigh so close to reaching her pussy to draw the gun from the improv lacy holster. As the car turned around for seconds, I aimed the best I could and shot every round available in the small Smith & Wesson.
At the same time, both my men and some of the Amatos were lining the sidewalk, shooting in the same direction, making sure those fuckers didn’t return.
Liam was barking orders on one side while Don Amato stood on the other, coordinating the men who needed little instruction before taking off to hunt the shooters down.
I, on the other hand, was too busy patting down Francesca, who was still lying on the ground, making sure she wasn’t hurt, to register anything they said.
“I’m okay, I’m okay!” She shouted over and over as I searched every inch of her body, the red patch of blood on her white dress driving me insane. “Matt, stop! You’re the one that’s bleeding.”
Indeed.
“Fuck,” I hissed. Not from the pain, that was manageable, but from the fucking mess someone decided to make at my fucking doorstep. I stood up, pulling Francesca off the ground with me.
“Let me see.”
“It’s fine.”
“Let. Me. See,” she punctuated each word, not taking no for an answer. I watched as she crouched down, her hair loose now, just begging to be pulled as she kneeled, inspecting my thigh. We had just gone through a near fucking execution and all I could think about was how sexy my wife looked in her badassery.
