Chapter 37
SOPHIA
The day of my wedding the sun shines bright and the breeze whips through my hair, which has started to grow out in the last few months. It’s near my shoulders now, not the pixie cut it once was, although Luca still insists on calling me pixie.
I guess he gave me that nickname before I ever had the cut, so it makes sense.
I look out over the beach, at the thirty chairs set up for our friends and family. Well. Not all of them. I couldn’t invite Scott. Not having my best friend and best man at the wedding does suck, but he and Derek were coming to visit in a year or two, when things settle down.
There’s still a warrant out for Luca, of course. We live off his many offshore bank accounts and the cash he had stashed in his jet. It’s enough to take care of us for five lifetimes.
Agnes is here, holding onto Rosa so that she can’t start throwing her rose petals too soon. She’s excited to see Mama and Daddy get married.
We’re having the reception in the church, but I insisted that I wanted to get married outside, under the sun. Aruba has the best sunshine. It should be studied.
I keep looking for the one person I wanted to be here above all else, but I knew it was a long shot to get him here. I look down then my father puts a hand on my arm.
I turn to him, gasping. “Papa! I didn’t think you’d make it.”
“Where else would I be on the day my little girl gets married to a mobster?” he asks, but he’s grinning ear to ear.
“You can finally meet him.”
“Meet the man who’s taking away my daughter? I don’t know,” he hedges, but I know he’s joking.
He and Luca talked on the phone already when Luca asked for my hand in marriage. At first, I thought it was outdated, but after thinking on it for a while I think it’s sweet.
“You gonna walk me down the aisle?”
“Of course I am.”
He extends his arm and I place my hand around his bicep as the music starts up.
My father wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand as we approach Luca, who’s dressed in a black suit.
My wedding dress is off-the-shoulder, classic white, with embroidered flowers all over it. The train drags along behind me as I walk and Rosa runs in front of me, throwing rose petals.
I laugh as she skips around, hamming it up.
My Rosie girl.
She heads back to the seats with Agnes and I look up at Luca. He’s already got tears in his green eyes. Once so stoic, he’s opened up to us so much.
I blink so that tears don’t track down my makeup. My stylist, Cherise, will have my head. Luca insisted on going all out for the wedding, sparing no expense.
I smile as the priest drones on, repeating what I need to for my vows.
“I love you,” Luca murmurs, close to my ear, when he takes my hands and presses his mouth against mine.
He’s finally almost better, the zipper scar marring his chest the only indication that he’d nearly died.
They pelt us with birdseed, Agnes keeping Rosa for us. She’s going to keep her for the week in a hotel that’s got all expenses paid.
I’m actually looking forward to it. I haven’t had a single second alone with Luca since we got to Aruba, it feels like. We haven’t been sexually intimate, and I’m starting to become frustrated. I know he is, too, it’s been a while given his injuries and everything going on.
I won’t deny I’m looking forward to making love again.
Luca and I walk into the church hand in hand, sweeping through all the people. Money is being pressed into my hand over and over, until I have to get Agnes to bring my purse to hold it all.
“This is too much,” I say when Diego presses a stack of hundreds into my hands, probably ten thousand dollars.
“It’s what we do, sweetheart,” he says simply, kissing my cheek.
Luca waves him off. “Hands off the merchandise.”
“You gonna hit me again?’
Luca laughs. “Not on my wedding day.” He pauses. “How are things?”
Diego shrugs. “Your father is doing what he can, which isn’t much. Cecilia’s stepped up and is doing some of the collecting.”
Luca’s eyes widen. “Cecilia? I guess maybe she’s found her calling.”
“Maybe so. He seems to be doing okay. Has a new kid running around, someone he took under his wing, name’s Francis.”
“Francis. Hope he serves him well.”
I thought Luca would be jealous of his father taking in someone else, but he doesn’t seem to be anything but happy. It’s like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.
Luca sips his Scotch and I sip my champagne, happy to have a bit of bubbly for once. Neither me or Luca drink much lately, too focused on Rosa. Luca’s been an amazing father, if a little permissive. She really does get everything she wants, but so do I.
I just have a harder time asking for it.
“What’s wrong?” Luca murmurs against my hair, one hand on my hip to draw me against his side.
“Nothing,” I say through a plastered-on smile. “Just…want some time alone together.”
“Alone? My pixie’s wish is my command.”
Before I can protest, he takes my hand, tugging me down the corridor as we slip out of the reception hall. I have to nearly run to catch up to him as he tugs me into a broom closet.
“This isn’t exactly the Ritz,” I mutter, but I can’t help smiling.
He smiles, placing a finger across his lips.
“The Ritz comes after, pixie. Right now, I just want to be close to you.”
His lips press against my throat as he pushes me back against the wall, pinning me with his body. His hard chest presses against my soft one and I moan against his lips. It’s been so long since he’s touched me like this.
He grunts as he fights with my wedding dress skirt, bunching it up around my hips. I giggle then gasp when he finally gets his fingers to my core. He sweeps them along my lower lips before inserting one, slowly, to the second knuckle.
I don’t have time to register the pleasure before he brings it out, popping his finger into his mouth and sucking wantonly.
“Luca,” I whine, trying to keep quiet. “This is wrong. Sacrilegious.”
He frowns. “This isn’t sacrilegious. This is holy, belissima. A woman and a man expressing their love together in front of the lord?”
I snort. “Only you would make something so wrong seem so right.”
“Doesn’t it feel right, pixie?” he murmurs against my throat, rolling his hips so that his erection pokes against my hip.
“You always feel right,” I admit with a moan and he fumbles with his slacks, finally freeing himself.
He presses into me slowly, making me feel every inch. I cry out.
“Fuck, pixie, don’t remember you being this tight.”
“It’s been a while,” I manage, catching his lips in a dirty kiss. He groans against my mouth.
“Tell me about it. Feel like I’m gonna blow in five strokes like a teenager.”
“Don’t you dare,” I hiss, and Luca laughs against my mouth, thrusting up into me harder, my ass sliding up the wall. “Harder, Luca, please.”
“My baby likes it rough,” he rasps, and the words travel along my spine like electricity, making heat settle between my legs. I’m so wet I’m glad I went without panties. I just thought maybe my panty line was going to show. I didn’t know I’d end up getting fucked in a church broom closet.
“I do. I do, fuck, Luca, I’m coming,” I cry out, rolling my hips to meet his thrusts. Luca grunts, burying his face in my neck as he keeps fucking me in a steady rhythm.
My orgasm hits me like a freight train and I go limp except for my nails digging into his shoulders. Luca groans loudly against my throat, slamming up into me for a few more strokes before he thrusts deeply. He pulses as he spills inside me, and a smile spreads across my face.
“Still think it’s sacrilegious?”
“No. I think it’s holy.” I break into giggles when Luca helps me stand on my own two feet, kissing all over my face.