“Oh, Nick.” I wanted to do a dozen different things at once. Say yes. Kiss him. Hit him. Melt into a puddle. Jump up and down. Squeal. Tell him I loved replicas of vintage things. Hear him ask me to marry him again. But I couldn’t do anything, could barely even breathe.
“What do you think?” he whispered.
I smiled. “I want sixty-seven years, at least.”
“You’ll have them. You’ll have everything.”
“Did she say yes?” called a voice from the crowd.
“Yes,” I whispered to Nick. Then I let my head fall back. “Yes!” I shouted to the roof.
The crowd erupted in applause and Nick slid the ring on my finger. I blinked at it through tears before he pulled me to my feet and wrapped me in his arms. Whoops and whistles rang out as we kissed long and deep, Nick lifting me right off the ground.
When he finally set me down, Erin tackled me, alternating hugs with wide-eyed staring at my hand. Nick accepted handshakes from the crowd before giving Erin a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
She fanned her face, which, like mine, was dripping with tears. “Me! What did I do?”
“Gave me the flight information. How else would I have been able to book a ticket?”
I grabbed his arm. “You booked a ticket?”
“I had to. They don’t let people through security who don’t. Not even handsome devils like me with a ring in his pocket.”
I slapped his shoulder. “But are you really going? To France, I mean?”
“Of course I am. I can’t miss the wedding.” At my dumbfounded face, he grinned. “I got hold of Lucas and Mia yesterday to ask if they’d mind an extra wedding guest just in case you said yes. After I explained what I was doing, they made me swear up and down that we’d both be on that plane.”
“Mia knew before I did?” I stuck my hands on my hips. I slapped his arm one more time before throwing my arms around him again. “Oh my God, I can’t believe this.” Burying my face in his neck, I breathed him in and held him there.
This was right. I could feel it.
We arrived in Paris very early Sunday morning. Erin and I had planned to spend one night in the city, and we’d decided to splurge on a room at the Ritz since it was only the one night and we were splitting it. The rest of the week we’d be staying right at Lucas’s family villa. Since Erin was in cahoots with Nick, he’d arranged for a second room at the Ritz, and Erin ended up having our original room to herself. She happily disappeared into the elevator when we arrived at the hotel, bleary-eyed with jet lag. She said she was so tired, she didn’t think she’d even leave the room.
We didn’t leave ours either.
Perhaps we should have. Perhaps it was sacrilege to have all of Paris waiting outside our windows, and me a history major, but the most romantic city in the world was doing a fine job casting its spell within our four walls.
Well, more if you count the bathroom. We did it in there too.
But the bed…oh, that bed. King sized, covered with crisp white linens and mounded with pillows, utterly inviting. As soon as the door was shut behind us, Nick swept me off my feet and carried me to it, our mouths drawn together as if by force. I threw my arms around his neck and kicked off my flats, exhausted but unable to stop myself from wanting him, now that we were finally alone.
He set me gently on the bed and looked down at me, nudging his shoes off. “Mrs. Lupo.”
My eyebrows rose. “Not yet I’m not.”
He grinned. “I know, just trying it out.”
“I like it.”
He stretched out on the bed, covering his body with mine. “Me too.”
His weight on me was simultaneously too much and not enough. I reached up and pulled his lips to mine again, teasing them open, running my tongue along them, tugging at them with my teeth. “I missed your mouth,” I whispered, hooking one leg behind him. “I love it so much.”
“It’s all yours.”
My heart beat faster at the thought. “You know what I was just thinking?” I asked, letting him pull me up so he could work my dress over my head.
“What?” He tossed it to the floor, unhooked my bra, and slipped it from my arms. “I hope it involves my mouth on your tits, because that’s what I was thinking.”
I giggled and lay back as he lowered his lips to one breast and then the other and back again, like a kid who just unwrapped two awesome Christmas toys and can’t decided which one to play with first. “No, but don’t stop. I was thinking,” I said, arching my back and running my fingers through his hair, “that I never even had time to change my name the first time around. And that might have been a good thing, because Coco Lupo sounds like a cocktail, not a person.”
He lifted his head and looked at me. “I’d drink that cocktail morning, noon, and night. I’d get drunk on it.”
“I’m sure you would.” I moaned luxuriantly as his mouth worked its way down my chest to my belly. “Even so, maybe I’ll hyphenate.”
“My love.” Nick straightened to unbutton and remove his shirt and then yanked his white undershirt over his head. “You can do anything you want. You can even keep your name if you want to, although I’d be really proud if you took mine.”
In the soft morning light coming in through the windows, Nick had never looked more handsome. I loved everything about him, from the gray hair at his temples to the ink on his skin, to the heart that beat beneath my name. I reached up and touched it. “God, I love you. And yes, I’ll take your name. I love your family and its history—I can’t wait to call it mine.”
He smiled at me. “I love that ring on you. The whole flight here, I kept looking at your hand.”
“Me too!” I held it out between us. “It’s so beautiful, Nick. I can’t believe you had it made this week.” On the way to Paris, Nick had explained that after flying in from L.A. late Wednesday, he’d driven overnight to Buffalo, where his dad’s cousin Vinnie lived, the granddaughter of Tiny who had the ring. He’d taken a million photos of it, not trusting anyone else to take them. He wanted every detail right. Then he’d driven back to Detroit and gone straight to a jeweler, begging her to make a copy quickly. After hearing his plea, she agreed—and she also wanted permission to use his name, image, and the story for advertising.
“Wait a minute, I just realized something. You went to get the ring last week? You didn’t even know if I’d take you back yet.”
“Very optimistic of me, I know.” He dropped his mouth to my belly again, shimmying down further. “But I wasn’t sure what the test results would be, and I was sort of hoping the ring would win you over either way. Besides—Noni told me not to wait any longer, not if I knew this was what I wanted.”
“I’m glad you didn’t wait. I’m glad you surprised me that way. I think it means you know me too well.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “We’ll have a good story to tell now.”
He slid my underwear down my legs. “Yes, we will.”
“Nick,” I said dreamily as he settled between my thighs, his lips planting soft kisses in a line straight south from my belly button. I propped myself up on my elbows. “I like the name Vinnie for a girl.”
He picked up his head and looked at me. “Me too.” Then he put his mouth on me and I forgot everything, even my own name.
#
Finally, we went deliciously, magnificently slow.
This morning he’d licked me into oblivion and then fucked me roughly from behind, both of us kneeling up against the headboard. Later I’d sucked his cock while he knelt over my face, finishing him off while he stood at the side of the bed and I hung off it, upside down. After room service lunch, we did it in the shower, my back up against the tile wall. Then we actually considered a walk outside, feeling quite proud of ourselves. But we’d fallen asleep before we were even dry, and now he was sliding inside me again, his face hovering above mine. It struck me then that every time since we’d gotten back together had been so rushed.
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Time, I thought as he moved inside me, his lips barely brushing mine. We have time. We have each other. We have our past, but we have a future too.
I opened my legs wider, tilted my hips to take him deeper, raked my nails slowly down his back. I was there again, that night he’d said we would go on forever, like the sky and stars, and I was here, writhing beneath him, our bodies connected and yearning.
“You were right,” I said, digging my heels into his thighs.
“About what?” His cock pushed deeper, and he stayed there, moving against me in tiny, measured, rhythmic pulses.
“About the past. About forever. About us. Oh, God.” I grabbed him, held him tightly to my body as everything around me splintered and the world was reduced to nothing more than my body, my heart, my soul, merging with his.
I’d never let him go.
#
“Well…what do you think?” Mia turned away from the full-length cheval mirror in the bedroom designated as the bridal dressing room at the villa and faced us.
“Oh God.” Erin cupped a hand over her mouth. “I’m going to cry and ruin my makeup. You’re so beautiful.”
Mia’s lovely pink lips curved into a smile. “Thank you.”
I opened my mouth to say the same, but found my throat so tight I couldn’t speak. She was beautiful, but even more than that she was happy. And considering it was Mia, she was remarkably calm. Her smile was serene, her hands steady, her shoulders relaxed. The room, with its large windows overlooking the olive grove, where everything was set up for the ceremony, was airy and suffused with sunlight, making her pale skin glow rosy and gold. She looked so peaceful, much more peaceful than I’d ever seen her look before anyone’s wedding, let alone her own. Nary a hive nor hiccup.
“Oh, Mia, I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks. I’m happy for you too.” Her smile widened. “I can’t believe it, but I’m actually fond of Nick Lupo.”
I laughed. “You’re on cloud nine, you’re fond of everyone right now.”
“True.”
“And this is your day—we can be happy for me when you get back.”
Mia’s lifted her chin. “If it’s my day, then I get to feel anything I want—and when I look at you and see how happy he makes you, and how good he is to you, I feel all warm and fuzzy about it. And you can’t stop me.”
“OK, fine. You win. Be happy for me.” I fussed with her hair a little, moving some loose strands off her face. She’d wanted to wear it down, so it was loosely knotted and spilling over one shoulder, echoing the lines of her elegant ivory chiffon gown. Sleeveless, the neckline dipped to a scandalously low V in the front (I could never wear anything like it, but Mia’s smaller chest was perfectly suited for it) and all the way to the waist in back. There was beading at the top of each shoulder and around her slim waist, and the hemline was mermaid style. She hadn’t wanted a veil, so nestled in her wavy brown hair were a few cream- colored flowers picked this afternoon from the villa’s extensive gardens. Standing back to take in the full vision, I grinned at the way her little toes peeked out from beneath the hem in her sandals. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
“Good, because I think it’s time.” Mia glanced out the window again and took a deep breath. “Looks like all the chairs are full, and I hear music.”
“Are you ready?” Erin asked, reaching for her hand.
“More than ready.” Mia reached for my hand, and squeezed. “Thank you for being here. I love you both so much.”
Erin and I joined hands to complete our little circle. “We love you too,” I said. “Lucas is the luckiest man in the world. I can’t wait to see his face when he gets a look at you.”
#
The villa’s front courtyard was set up for the reception, and Mia had chosen décor that echoed the colors of the Provençal landscape beyond it. Tables for eight covered with ivory or taupe damask cloths, sprigs of rosemary or thyme on each plate, centerpieces of lavender bouquets, and candles of various heights glowing in the twilight. Even the air smelled romantic—full of herbs and floral notes that made you want to drink it like honey. The day had been hot, but had cooled to a comfortable temperature, and a light breeze ruffled the tablecloths.
Behind the villa, beyond gardens of wildflowers and a row of lemon trees, twelve rows of chairs were set up on either side of a gravel path. At the end of the path, which was lined with votive candles, stood the Officiant, and beyond him, the olive grove.
Erin and I waited near the lemon trees with Mia’s little half-sisters, who were serving as flower girls. Three guitarists strummed softly as Lucas’s family was seated: his former movie star mother, a strikingly beautiful woman on the arm of her husband, a handsome man ten years younger; and his father, who resembled an older version of Lucas in a sort of shaggy-haired, aging-rockstar way. Next, Mia’s stepfather and mother were seated, and finally, the groom and his two brothers appeared in front of the guests. They wore dark blue suits, white shirts and ties in a deep color Mia called aubergine.
I smiled when I saw how happy and handsome Lucas looked, his usual scruff barely visible, his incorrigible dark waves tamed with some kind of pomade, possibly loaned to him by Nick. (Honestly, the man traveled with more hair products than I did.) Erin and I exchanged a quick smile and hand squeeze before she started up the dusty path, and I fought tears watching the pretty lavender dress float behind her. When she was halfway to the front, I began to walk up the aisle, praying my heels didn’t sink into the gravel.
Immediately I sought Nick in the crowd, and my heart fluttered faster when I saw him smile at me. He wore a lightweight beige suit, white shirt and checkered tie, and his dark eyes shone with love and pride as he watched me. God, he was so handsome— for just a second I entertained the fantasy of taking a detour up his row and straddling him in his chair.
Mia’s mother dabbed her eyes as I glided by, and then I locked eyes with Lucas, whose expression was adorably nervous and excited at the same time. I winked at him and took my place next to Erin. The music changed to something slightly more dramatic, and everyone stood in anticipation of the bride.
When she appeared at the foot of the path, murmurs and whispers floated through the crowd. She’s so beautiful, look how radiant she is, I’ve never seen her so happy… I’d seen her only minutes ago, but as she came up the aisle on the arm of her father, she looked even more ethereal and lovely. Erin and I reached for each other’s hands simultaneously and held on tight as Mia walked toward Lucas, her steps sure and determined, even in the gravel.
I glanced at Lucas, and a lump formed in my throat as I watched him touch a thumb and finger to his eyes, fighting tears, and then giving up and allowing a couple to fall. In contrast, Mia was bright- eyed and smiling when she reached him, and again I marveled at her grace and composure. I hope I’m as relaxed and confident on my wedding day as she is.
The service, conducted in both French and English, was only about twenty minutes long, simple but beautiful. Even the parts I didn’t understand sounded like poetry. All too soon it was over, and Mia and Lucas were pronounced husband and wife. They kissed, and when Lucas lifted Mia right off the ground, the crowd erupted.
The guitarists struck a few buoyant chords, and the bride and groom took a moment to hug and kiss the wedding party before heading back down the dusty aisle, hand in hand, dancing and laughing and smiling as if they’d never stop.
#
Later, after dinner had been served and cake had been sliced, toasts had been made and dancing had begun, Nick took my left hand and squeezed it. We were sitting at a table near the dance floor watching Mia and Lucas sway gently in each other’s arms, and I said a heartfelt prayer of thanks that everything she’d wanted for this day had come to fruition. Every detail had been perfect. Even the weather cooperated, cooling down even more as the sky darkened and a breeze picked up, carrying the scent of sunflowers and lavender across the courtyard.
“What a perfect day,” I murmured. “I’m so happy for her. For both of them.”
“Me too.” Nick brought my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Is this what you’d like for our wedding?”
I smiled sideways at him. “Maybe. What about you?”
“I like the idea of getting married outside, but I don’t know about a destination wedding. That takes a lot of extra planning, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” I lifted a glass of champagne to my lips. It fizzed in my mouth and down my throat. “So maybe something closer to home. The farm?” I set the flute down and looked at him.
He tilted his head from side to side. “Maybe. But there might be another place we like more. Let’s wait and see.” He played with my hand on the table, admiring the ring on my finger. “So what will your parents say?”
“They better say they’re happy for me. Or else they’re not invited.” He laughed and tugged on my elbow, pulling me onto his lap. I went gladly, slipping an arm around his shoulders.
“Well, we know your grandmother will be glad about it.”
“Definitely. She’ll say all her novenas worked.”
“She’s going to take credit for this?” He pressed a kiss to my bare shoulder.
I rolled my eyes. “Probably. Somehow.”
“Mmmm. You smell so good.” He rubbed his lips back and forth over my skin, inhaling deeply.
Beneath me, I felt his cock coming to life, and it sent a jolt of arousal straight to my core. “Mmm. Think we can escape?”
“I know we can.”
Sliding off his lap, I stood and let him lead me by the hand across the courtyard, away from the party, around the house and back toward the olive grove where the ceremony had taken place. We started out walking slowly, but as soon as we were out of sight Nick started moving faster. Soon we were running through the dark, slipping between rows of thick, curvy-branched olive trees. When we were deep in the grove, hidden from everything in the shadows of the moon, Nick turned and pinned my back to a wide tree trunk. “Lift up your dress.”
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