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I wanted a house full of kids, and there were a lot of different ways to make that happen, including scooping up some of the kids we’d traced in the on-line auctions. Dario had his heir, but even if he hadn’t, Jo and Gia had shared their incredible news last night, and I was thrilled for them.
I was so busy helping with the lost kids I’d never bothered to attend any of the so-called charity lunches set up by the wives, and Dario didn’t care. By allying with the Irish and our Chicago family, as far as the five families were concerned, Dario was golden.
In fact, we’d received a wedding invitation from Marcello for next month. The weird thing was his bride’s name wasn’t listed on the invite.
“Did you hear any of that?” Dario gathered me in his arms and I flushed. We’d said our vows, exchanged rings, but I confessed to drowning out Cecil’s comments.
“What did I miss?” I whispered into Dario’s ear.
“Nothing important,” he chuckled. “Apparently, I’m supposed to kiss my husband.”
So he did.
Thoroughly.
And his husband kissed him right back.
Fine.
