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Elise Rossi.
Now that’s something different.
“Oh? About what?”
My hand still rests on his face. His warm skin and prickly, scruffy beard make me want him even more. I reach my face to his to kiss him.
Before he grants me my wish, he tells me what he’s changed his mind about.
“You and I are taking a honeymoon.”
“Oooh,” I breathe. “Yes. Where to?”
“Italy. I’ve got staff packing for us right now. I’ve got business in Tuscany first, but then we’ll shop and eat and do all the things normal people do.”
Italy. I feel as if my whole body exhales.
“Perfect,” I say with a smile. The “business” he has in Tuscany involves finding who killed his cousin, but I don’t dwell on that right now.
This is who I married.
This is who I am.
“I’d like that,” I tell him. “But first, let’s cut that cake before your sister sends a search party out for the both of us, or your brothers get into a fistfight over who gets the largest piece.”
He kisses me, still smiling.
I love his smile.
We walk through The Castle hand in hand, heading to the pavilion outside. “Tavi?”
“Mmm?”
“I… overheard Romeo. I didn’t mean to. I was looking for you.”
Our footsteps click on the hardwood floors as we make our way back to the reception outside.
“Still, you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. You know better than that.”
“What am I supposed to do, walk through The Castle with my fingers stuck in my ears?”
He growls in response. I barely refrain from rolling my eyes.
“What did you hear him say?”
I can’t remember exactly. “Something about… waiting until you told me. What’s he talking about?”
“And that’s exactly why you shouldn’t listen in on conversations you’re not involved in.”
“Hey. You’re avoiding answering the question.”
He blows out a breath, and the stern, implacable look on his face is back. I wonder if I imagined any softness. “Let’s cut the cake. Let’s wrap up this reception. And later, when we’re alone again, I’ll tell you everything.”
“Everything?” I ask.
His eyes quickly dart away, then back again. “Yeah, babe.”
“Fair enough.”
It feels good to be walking hand in hand with him. It feels even better when we step outside and Marialena shouts out a greeting in a microphone, and the entire reception bursts into applause and hoots and hollers.
We head back to our family and friends and do everything we’re supposed to. Cake cutting, bouquet tossing, greeting and smiling and laughing. We eat pastry and drink champagne, and when the sun sets low behind us, and our guests begin to leave, we head inside where our bags are waiting for us.
“Tavi.” Tosca looks like she’s going to pout. “Why so soon? You just got here, my son.”
“I came to get married, Mama. You know that.”
She stares forlornly at the luggage by the door, as Mario enters.
“Got rid of her,” he says to Tavi.
Tavi looks sharply at me, then back to Mario. “I’m talking to her on the plane, man. Jesus.”
“You should stay,” Tosca says, reaching for my hand. “You can talk him into it. You’re the only one who’s ever had any sway with that pigheaded son of mine.”
I can’t help but smirk at that. Tavi narrows his eyes at me, but he shares a smirk with me, too.
“I may be his wife, but I’m not a miracle worker. I’m sorry. When Tavi makes up his mind…”
She waves her hand at me. “Oh, yeah. I know all about that. Still, come home soon you two, will you?”
Nonna presses a large plastic bag with something wrapped in foil inside. “For you,” she says. “Mangia.” Then she pats my belly, and tells me in Italian I need to feed my body to prepare for the baby. If she wasn’t so adorable and sweet, I’d roll my eyes. Instead, I kiss her cheeks and thank her.
“Hey! Don’t give her all the food!” Mario protests.
Orlando smacks his arm, hard. “Don’t be a dumbass. She’ll make more. Let her take it.” He shakes his head. “Jesus,” he mutters, as if he didn’t nearly get into an all-out brawl with Mario over a platter of canapés earlier today. The Rossi men and their food…
But I’m still hung up on what she said.
“Nonna,” I say on a groan. “I don’t look pregnant!”
“No look. Be,” she says, shaking her head. “Soon. We need many, many small Rossis. Fatten you up now.” She walks by Romeo and makes the sign of the cross. He only rolls his eyes.
Tavi shakes his head. “You trying to fatten up my new bride?”
“Of course,” Nonna says sternly.
Tavi grins. “Alright by me.”
“Hey!” I make a vow to do a few crunches before I go to bed tonight. Fatten me up indeed.
Tires crunch on the gravel outside the door. “That’s our ride,” Tavi says. “Let’s go, Elise.”
“Wait!” Angelina’s on the stairs, the baby over her shoulder. “Let me tell you goodbye.” She trots down the rest of the stairs, but on the last step, she catches her foot. Nonna and Mama gasp, but Orlando moves swiftly and catches her just before she falls, the baby clutched to her chest.
