Francesca #2
Everyone filed out into the town square and made small talk before they started to head to the reception.
My father was quickly consumed by conversation with other people that he knew.
He introduced us to a few people whose names I wouldn’t remember, and we exchanged meaningless pleasantries while the sea breeze continued to cool our warm skin.
When I felt Wolfe’s stare, I knew he was nearby, somewhere near the church, keeping an eye on us.
The extra security was probably unnecessary, but my father wasn’t a risk-taker.
He believed the best way to deter provocations was to make an approach as difficult as possible.
It seemed to work because we rarely had unwarranted confrontations.
We walked together to the hotel on the sea cliff where the reception was held, and that was when Wolfe, Elio, Andre, and Salvatore joined us.
I hadn’t had a chance to see how Wolfe was dressed before because he’d been seated in the car, but now I saw him in slacks and dress shoes with a collared shirt and a tie.
Utterly fuckable, basically.
His arms stressed the sleeves of the shirt, and with the shirt tucked into his trousers, you could see exactly how tight his stomach was, how tight his ass was in the dark blue trousers. He combed his hair a little differently and wore one of his expensive watches.
Everyone stared. And when I say everyone, I meant fucking everyone.
He rolled his sleeves to his elbows and showed off that dark ink, and that just made everyone stare even more.
He seemed oblivious to it, locked in conversation with Elio about something.
He wore a pair of Tom Ford sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, looking like a model who should be plastered on billboards in Manhattan.
Cristo, he was so hot.
We walked to the hotel and followed the signs that guided us to the large outdoor terrace with a spectacular view of the sea. An awning covered most of the tables, but the deck extended beyond that, dotted with large white umbrellas to protect guests from the warm sunlight overhead.
Each of the round tables could accommodate at least ten guests, so we were able to sit comfortably with Wolfe and the others. Waiters immediately came out to deliver pitchers of water and iced tea as well as bottles of wine.
My father left to mingle, while I remained seated next to Leo.
With Wolfe directly across from me.
I could tell he liked my dress by the way his eyes ripped it off me. His sunglasses were left on the table next to his water glass, and his massive arms were crossed over his chest.
Leo didn’t notice the standoff because he was on his phone.
The others were busy looking around, watching the guests as they filed into the reception. It would probably be an hour before the wedding party arrived because they were taking their photos while hors d’oeuvres were passed around.
I took a few sips of water before I poured myself a glass of wine. The waiter brought bruschetta to the table, but I was the only one who touched it.
“I don’t understand why we always have to come with him to these things,” Leo said. “I don’t even know these people.”
“Because he’s not married, Leo,” I said. “He doesn’t have someone else to bring.”
“And that’s my problem?” he asked. “If he wanted a woman, he could have a woman. Sometimes when we go out, he gets hit on more than I do.”
“Well, no surprise there.”
Wolfe smirked.
“I would much rather have a day off than spend it around people I don’t know.”
“Well, bitching about it all day isn’t going to change anything.” I drank from my wineglass. “So I suggest you get over it.”
Dinner was served, the sun went down, and the music played loudly as people danced in the center of the deck.
It was a reception with five hundred guests, typical for an Italian wedding, so the energy was high.
Leo had left to talk to a girl at the bar, so he was making the most of his night.
There were times when my father wasn’t around because he was mingling, and during those times, Wolfe or one of the other guys shadowed him from a short distance.
Whenever Wolfe and I were at the table together, someone else was always there, so we couldn’t talk or stare at each other too long without making our connection obvious.
A guy had come over to the table to talk to me, but he didn’t have a chance to sit down before Wolfe chased him off with a quick snarl.
Andre was there at the time, but he didn’t seem suspicious, probably assuming Wolfe was following orders my father had given him.
Dad eventually came back to the table and took the seat beside me. “Having a good time?”
I’d rather be in bed with Wolfe where it was warm and quiet instead of on a crowded terrace with music so loud it started to hurt my ears.
The dinner was good, but when Wolfe barely touched his, I knew he preferred my cooking to what they served.
“Yeah, it’s been nice. I saw them serving cake when I went to the bathroom, so we’ll probably get our pieces soon. ”
“I wonder what flavor.”
“Like I care,” I said. “Cake is cake.”
Wolfe chuckled quietly. The sound didn’t carry to us, but I noticed the way he smiled and the way his body shifted when he reacted.
“Where’s your brother?”
“I think he’s cornered some poor girl.”
A quick smile stretched over his lips.
“Are you having a good time?”
“It’s nice to catch up,” he said. “Being around all this makes me excited to host your wedding someday.”
My eyes should remain still, but they immediately flicked to Wolfe across the table.
His eyes were already on me.
I quickly looked away, not letting myself even entertain the idea of standing in a white dress while that beautiful man feasted on my flesh with just his stare.
The idea of being his wife was equally thrilling and terrifying.
Maybe my father knew that…which was why he’d never suggested Wolfe as a suitor.
“Like someone would be crazy enough to marry into this family,” I teased.
A waitress came over with a large tray in hand, slices of cake on the surface. She started to hand them out, and Wolfe was the only person who rejected the offering. He said he didn’t eat sweets, and in the time that I’d known him, I’d never seen him even eat a piece of chocolate.
“Don.” Andre’s voice was heard over the music because he spoke loudly enough to get his attention. “We’ve got company.”
My eyes immediately shifted to the man who approached our table flanked by two men, his own entourage.
He was younger than my father, probably closer to Wolfe’s age, and his dark hair was streaked back with an extra serving of gel.
He was thin, really thin, like he preferred to ingest drugs instead of food.
Wolfe immediately left his chair and stepped back slightly, arms crossed over his chest like he wanted to have an aerial view of the situation instead of being compromised in a chair.
I’d never seen this man in my life, but he looked at my father like he knew exactly who he was. Wolfe’s vacated chair was available, so he dropped into it like he had every right, then continued to stare at my father.
Palpable tension washed over the table, and I immediately knew I shouldn’t be there.
The man continued to stare at my father, but then his gaze shifted to me—and stayed there.
Stayed there far longer than it should.
But I never backed down from a confrontation, so I held his stare and didn’t blink, refusing to look away until he looked away first.