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He clears his throat. “I wasn’t sure if I would get Adelina here today.”
“She is here, isn’t she?”
“Yes. But, Matteo, I need to warn you … She’s not exactly in the best of moods.”
I grunt. “She wasn’t before. I’m used to it. No need to worry, Dario. I can handle her. I like a little bit of a challenge. Now, I have a wedding to attend.” I give him a clap on the shoulder, then enter the main room, walking down the aisle towards the dais. Guests are getting situated in their seats. Carlo stands beside me, routinely grabbing my shoulders and shaking me from excitement. I laugh and pat his hands. “All right there, buddy.”
Serafina enters the room and walks down the aisle, taking her place as maid of honor on the dais. She gives me a tight smile. I know she had a crush on me, and it’s a little awkward I’m marrying her sister, but she’s being a good sport about it. I give her a nod in return.
It isn’t until the crowd hushes and the music swells that I feel truly excited.
The doors open, and there she is.
Adelina, in a wedding dress that showcases her beauty. Dario’s arm is linked through hers as they walk down the aisle. She keeps her eyes glued to the floor.
I stand perfectly still, even though all I want to do is run down that aisle, throw her over my shoulder caveman-style, take her back to my house, and have my way with her.
Adelina still doesn’t look at me as Dario places her hand in mine.
The priest begins the ceremony. “We are gathered here today …”
I squeeze her hand, feeling the warmth and smallness of it. The last time I tried to take her hand, she ripped it away. I guess she didn’t want to do that in front of all of our guests.
The priest turns to me for me to recite my vows. I do so smoothly and confidently. My men whoop and holler from the pews, cheering me on. This is what makes Adelina finally look up.
Her eyes widen when she sees me. I smirk. Yeah, I know I look good in my suit. I want her to be impressed. Show her that I’m more than just the gross biker she thinks I am.
Then her gaze lands on my men cheering in the audience, and a frown crosses her face. I guess there’s no pleasing her.
The priest turns to her to recite her vows. At first, she doesn’t open her mouth. After a long, awkward pause, Adelina finally repeats after him, binding herself to me in holy matrimony.
“Do you, Matteo Amato, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do.” And I mean it.
“And do you, Adelina Santoro, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
She frowns and meets my gaze. Then, letting out a long sigh, she says, “I do.”
My men let out a raucous cheer and stomp their feet, making the whole room rumble.
"I, now, pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
I grab Adelina’s face and press my lips to hers. She keeps her lips taut and hard, essentially forcing the kiss to be short. When I pull back and wink, she just looks away.
As I lead Adelina down the aisle, my men reach out and pat me on the back. Carlo runs after and grabs Adelina in a hug. She squeaks, tensing.
“Congratulations,” he tells her.
She smiles faintly, pulling away from him. “Thanks.”
I tug her down the aisle and outside to where my motorcycle is waiting to take us to the reception hall. She stops short once she realizes she’ll have to get on it.
“No,” is all she says.
I hand her a helmet. “It’s time we ride off into the sunset. Hop on.”
“No. I’m not riding a motorcycle. Especially in my wedding dress.”
