Page 226 of Made in Love and Blood

Salvatore chuckled at the way Vanna rolled her eyes. “All right, fine.”

In the next second, she disappeared down the hallway to enter the gallery hall where the ceremony, and later, reception would take place. He’d already walked Carina in, slowly, so that she didn’t hurt herself in those fucking shoes. He was so done arguing about it.

The wedding party included Nico, Frankie, and Carmen. They had a surprise planned for the guests regarding witnesses, the officiate would ask for the guests to check under their chair, two had blue cards which invited them to join the couple and sign as witnesses to the marriage. But otherwise, Frankie and Nico didn’t ask for specific people to stand in for them in that regard. They really did want it to be about them.

Salvatore just agreed. As he should.

He and Frankie stepped off to the side as the music started so the guests couldn’t see her when the doors started to open. He took that moment to turn and appreciate his daughter in her gown while Carmen, and her little basket of blue rose petals matching Frankie’s bouquet, took center stage. He curled one of two pieces of hair framing Frankie’s face around his finger and then used his thumb to sweep across her cheek.

“You look beautiful,” he told her.

“Not too much?” she asked of the dress.

Carina really did have an eye for that sort of thing.

“God, no. You look perfect, Sunshine. Really.”

Her smile softened as he took her in again, needing that moment.

Frankie’s gown, a convertible dress with a removable bolero and detachable six-foot train, gleamed a bright, satin white under the overhead lights. The way the bodice hugged her upper waist, and the skirt pleats folded and flowed outward around her middle helped to obscure the pregnancy that would soon be announced. The sheer sleeves attached to the criss-crossed bolero added a grown-up elegance to a dress he hadn’t expected his daughter to choose when Carina put forth her options, but he understood why she did, too.

She was a woman. All grown up.

Her bare leg peeked out from the slit in the gown to show off the open-toed heels that added an extra two inches to her height. He bet those wouldn’t last longer than the ceremony took, and maybe the pictures.

All too soon, the song changed. Frankie’s hand found his elbow and Salvatore wiped at his cheek.

“Don’t cry, or I will,” Frankie whispered.

He swallowed back the lump in his throat. They headed for the opening doors.

“Don’t cry, Daddy,” she repeated, her grip stronger.

Inevitable, he knew. Just like her and Nico. It couldn’t be helped; bound to fucking happen.

He, in fact, did cry the whole way down the aisle and so did the man who waited on the other side. Fair was fair, after all.

God knew...

Nico owed him.

•••

Four weeks later...

“Sal, would you slow down? I can’t walk that fast yet!”

“Someone needs to stop with the heels until her scar doesn’t hurt, Carina,” he returned.

“I swear to God—”

Salvatore turned fast on his heel, catching a laughing Carina with a swoop of his arm to toss her over his shoulder. Her palms smacked at his back while he continued the fast stroll down the hospital corridor, but she didn’t seem like she minded.

“You prick,” she muttered.

Only half-heartedly.

“You’re the one that wanted a snack, and look, we missed it.”