15. Chapter 15
I ran a finger along the delicate gold chain and smiled, my eyes watering. The words were surrounded by light green gemstones. “What are these?” I asked with a watery voice, stroking my finger along the green stones. My eyes snapped to his and I realized the stones were almost identical to his eyes.
He blinked, as if he saw the realization dawning on me, and cleared his throat. “It’s paraíba tourmaline. It’s a very rare gemstone, the color unique only to this type of stone. Most of them are light blue.”
I pulled the necklace from the box and held it out to him. “Will you put it on me?” His face was uncharacteristically soft as he took the necklace. I lifted my hair and he slid the chain around my neck, clasping it quickly and placing a soft kiss on the nape of my neck. I shivered hard before turning to face him.
I lifted the pendant from between my breasts and gazed at it in awe before meeting his eyes. “What does it mean?”
He swallowed before licking his lips. If I didn’t know he was a mob boss, I’d have thought he was nervous. “It’s just a saying,” he said cryptically. “Ready to go?” he asked without giving me a chance to press more questions about the script.
Settled into the back of the car, I started to buckle my seatbelt as Seamus coasted down the driveway, but Cal grabbed me and pulled me to the middle seat so that I was pressed right up against his side. He buckled the lap belt across my hips and settled his hand on my thigh. His palm was so warm through the thin fabric that I thought I might never feel cold ever again.
“So,” I said to break the silence. “Where are we going?”
“To dinner first, then to an event we are hosting tonight.”
“An event? Like a party?”
He smirked. “Something like that.”
I eyed his mischievous expression but decided not to press the issue. I’d find out soon enough, and I’d been asking him so many questions, I was sure he was probably annoyed to no end.
I relaxed into the seat, leaning against him. My fingers wandered to the pendant again and I stroked the smooth gems, traced the words, spun it between my fingers. My mind drifted and I considered how drastically my life had changed.
I had gone from the shunned stepdaughter of an Italian Don, to the fiancée of an Irish Mob Boss. Elio had spent most of his time either ordering me around or forcing me to attend events he knew I didn’t want to attend, but then forcing me to hide in the back so I didn’t embarrass him - which only drew more attention to me. Again, because he knew I hated it.
Less than a week after Cal…proposed? Hm. I hadn’t realized that he had kind of proposed, without actually posing it as a question. He had kind of just said that he wanted me and then asked if I’d be willing to fulfill the contract. I pondered this, my mind bouncing between his not-a-question proposal and the fact that he treated me better than I’d ever been treated before, as I watched my fingers play with the necklace, trying to decide how I felt about being told he wanted me but not really asked if I wanted him.
“Why are you frowning?” His words pulled me from my thoughts and I immediately smoothed my features.
“I’m not,” I said, my voice a pitch or two higher than it should’ve been.
“Well, you’re not anymore,” he said with a chuckle. “But you were just a moment ago. What’s on your mind?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” His gaze bounced between mine and my fingers, still obsessively playing with the necklace. I couldn’t hold his gaze and looked back down. I could feel his eyes on me but he didn’t say anything. I appreciated that he didn’t push, but he did shift his weight. When he started to remove his hand from my thigh, I quickly smacked mine onto the back of his, holding his palm against my leg and wincing at the sting in my palm.
His body relaxed, muscles uncoiling and his side pressing against mine again. We were quiet for the rest of the ride and about thirty minutes later, we pulled up in front of Four Course, an expensive, upscale restaurant. I’d only been here once before, but Elio always loved to flaunt whenever he got a reservation. He would tell anyone who would listen that he was going to be eating there that week. The chef was some huge celebrity chef with multiple reality TV shows, a few of his own competition shows and restaurants all over the world. On TV, he looked like a massive dick, always yelling and cussing at people, but his cooking was to-die-for.
The Maitre D’ led us to a dim table in the back. I started to sit at the far chair, but Cal shook his head and pulled out the chair on the opposite side. Connor and Carson stood at my back but kept a comfortable distance while Finn stood behind Cal, against the wall. His eyes scanned the crowded dining room, and I glanced at Connor and Carson’s backs, their bodies tensed as if expecting a threat to pop out at any moment.
“Don’t they ever get a break?” I asked as Cal handed me a menu.
“Yes, but not when we’re in public. Your safety is far too important to take risks with.” I blushed and hid behind my menu. He let me, laughing softly.
“Why did you make me move chairs?”
“I don’t sit with my back to the room. Here, I can see anyone approaching and protect you before anyone gets too close.”
I blinked at him and glanced around. “Are we in danger here?”
“Of course not, but I can never be too safe, especially not with you.”
I frowned and scanned the menu, pondering his over-protectiveness and wondering why he acted like that.
We were halfway through dinner when Finn suddenly stepped forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with the men behind me and forming a solid wall between our table and whoever was approaching. Cal stood and buttoned his suit jacket before coming to stand next to me and laying a hand on Finn”s shoulder. I stayed in my seat, nervously watching the men towering over me.
“It’s alright, boys. You can return to your duties.” Finn moved back to the wall and Connor reluctantly stepped to the side, but Carson was slower to move. He stayed directly in front of me, his body tense, arms crossed. When he finally moved, I saw why he’d been so tense. Elio, Fern and a few of Elio’s men stood in front of our table. Cal returned to his seat across from me, but he took my hand in his. My fingers trembled at the sight of Carlo, and Cal laced his through mine and squeezed, masking the tremors.
“Good evening, Marino. Fran. How are you doing tonight?” I choked on air as I inhaled, thankful that the coughing fit covered what would have been hysterical, nervous laughter at his intentional use of the wrong name.
Fern gasped in outrage and began to speak, but Elio held up his hand, stopping her tirade. “Good evening, Callahan. What a nice surprise seeing you here. Would you and my daughter like to join us for dinner?”
Oh, so now I’m his daughter? I raised an eyebrow and made a disbelieving face before I caught myself and schooled my features. Elio must’ve noticed my slip up and color bled into his cheeks. I recognized the look that usually led to lashes or other punishments and, although I tried to have no reaction to it, Cal must’ve felt my fingers tense in his, my knuckles leaching of all color at my tight grip. I could feel it when eyes slid to me, but my own remained glued to Elio and Carlo, unable to tear my gaze away from the biggest threats in the room. The skin of my back tingled and burned. The shaking in my fingers spread to the rest of my hand, the other joining in as Carlo met my gaze and smirked., casually grabbing his belt as he adjusted the waistband of his pants.
Before I could stop myself, a shiver wracked my whole body and I whimpered before I cut the noise off.
Cal made a noise, deep in his chest, and laid his other hand on top of our clasped ones, brushing his fingers over the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist. “What do you think, mo solas. Would you like to join your family for dinner?”
I swallowed and finally, finally, I was able to tear my gaze from Carlo’s and stare into Cal’s green eyes. The longer I stared, the longer he stroked his fingers up and down my wrist, the more my breathing calmed. My hands stilled and my nerves settled. Confidence built warm between my ribs, swirling in my belly like butterflies, only much stronger.
“Considering the last time we ate with them, I was slapped and threatened with a steak knife, I think I’d prefer to pass this evening,” I said, keeping my voice as calm and steady as I possibly could, my eyes locked to his.
Cal lips twitched and he squeezed my fingers before looking back at Elio. “Thank you for the invitation, but Rory and I are celebrating this evening. We’d prefer to keep to our own company. Perhaps next time?”
Elio’s teeth ground together but he forced a smile. “Of course. Soon, I hope.” He met my gaze and his smile slipped a little before he caught himself. His eye twitched, but he dipped his head. “Aurora, good to see you. Enjoy your evening.” He turned to make his way back to his table but Fern didn’t move. Carlo stayed close to her back with his arms crossed. “Fern!” Elio snapped. She glared at me for a moment longer, her eyes glued to the pendant resting against my sweater, before following him away.
When they were gone, my body sagged into the chair, a deep sigh leaving my lungs. “Thank you, Cal.”
“Of course,” he said. His eyes examined my face and body language as his nostrils flared. “Why did you grow so tense when you saw the blond man?”
Every muscle tensed right back up. “You mean Carlo?” I asked, stalling for time. He dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Um, he’s just…mean,” I finished lamely.
“Did he hurt you?”
I swallowed against a suddenly very dry mouth, taking a moment too long to answer. “No,” I said in that same annoyingly high pitched voice that had appeared in the car.
Cal’s jaw ticked as his teeth snapped together. “I see,” he said, his eyes squinted towards Elio’s table across the dining room. Nerves fluttered behind my sternum and I scrambled for a distraction.
“You said we’re celebrating?” I asked, reaching for my wine glass. “What are we celebrating?”
This tactic worked and he smiled immediately. “I have something I want to ask you when we finish our meal. I want you to know that you are free to answer this question however you truly wish to answer it.”
Confusion clouded my mind, but before I could question it, Cal nodded to my plate, picking up his own fork. I ate faster than I should have, my mind racing through a million different questions he might want to ask me, overthinking how I would answer each one.
When our plates were near empty, the waiter returned to ask if we wanted any dessert. Cal ordered one crème br?lée and when it arrived, he broke the burnt sugar topping, holding a spoonful in front of my lips. I took it and moaned as I crushed the crispy sugar between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. We ate the dessert, Cal alternating between feeding me and taking a bite of his own. I noticed he never took a bite of the sugar, only taking the custard for himself, but every single one of my bites included an even mix of crispy, burnt sugar and smooth, creamy custard. It was such a small thing, but it was a strangely sweet, romantic gesture.
As he scraped the dish and offered me the last bite, his body language changed, growing a little jittery. Nervous energy hummed in the air and I looked around, trying to spot the threat in the room. When I turned back to him, he was no longer in his chair but was on his knee in front of me, a blue ring box gripped tightly in his hand.
My eyes widened and my fingers covered my mouth, my heart kicking hard against my ribs as adrenaline flooded my system. Something strangely similar to a fight or flight response made my limbs tingle, itching to move.
“I meant what I said, mo solas. You can answer my next question however you wish.” I swallowed, my gaze bouncing from his to the light blue box and back. “When I saw you at Thai Moon that first day, I was intrigued by your beauty. Our eyes met and an energy that I’ve never felt before filled me. I felt a strange sense of belonging, looking into your eyes. There’s really no good way to explain it, but it felt so right. Watching you dance, watching your skin flush, like it is right now, watching the way the light bounces off your hair, seeing you come out of your shell and realize that you can speak your mind and stand up for yourself, I’m constantly awestruck by your beauty and bravery. I know this isn’t the conventional way a girl dreams her marriage will happen, and I can’t promise that things will always be good between us, but I can promise that I will do everything within my power to make you happy, to give you things that you desire and things that you don’t even realize you want, to please you and help you fulfill your dreams. I promise to be faithful and build a life together that you will be comfortable in.”
Tears leaked from my eyes and a somewhat desperate sob burst from behind my fingers. He reached up and laid his palm on my cheek, his fingers brushing my skin softly until his index found that spot behind my jaw, resting against my pulse with gentle pressure.
“I promise to give you everything I have to give, if you would do me the honor of marrying me?”
A hysterical laugh burst from me and once it started, I couldn’t stop it. He blinked at me before a worried, hesitant smile stretched his mouth.
“I’m sorry!” I gasped through watery laughter. “I’m not laughing at you,” I tried to explain. I took a deep breath, wiping tears from my eyes. “In the car, when you asked why I was frowning, I was frowning because I had just realized you never actually proposed. You just declared I would ‘do’ and then asked if I’d fulfill the contract.”
His eyebrow arched as his smile changed from worried to amused. His eyes sparkled and he said, “Well, better late than never.” He held the box up a little, as if urging me to answer him as he lifted the lid.
My heart stuttered, the reality of the situation settling in as I stared at an oval cut stone that matched the smaller ones in the necklace, ringed by small diamonds so clear, they shone blue. My hand flew to the necklace and my eyes jumped to his.
He swallowed and rolled his lips into his mouth. The nervous gesture spurred me into action and I nodded mutely, my eyes watering again and my throat too tight to speak. I held out my shaking hand and he slid the ring onto my finger.
He stood and pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my hair and inhaling deeply. I pressed into his chest, my hands flat on his pectorals as I rubbed my cheek against his soft shirt. The room around us erupted into applause and my cheeks immediately caught fire. Cal turned us so that I was hidden partially when he pulled me into his side, sensing that I was uncomfortable with the attention.
He pulled my head back and kissed the tip of my nose before leading us past a very angry Fern and out of the restaurant.