Wedding Dreams

by Kallypso Masters

  “My patrons and I have enjoyed them greatly, as you seem to have tonight as well. So I think it’s time to return them to you, Angelina. Then you and Marc can dance to those tunes to your heart’s content for many, many years in the privacy of your new home.”

  Angelina’s jaw dropped, and her eyes stung. He couldn’t possibly know that over the past year she’d begun regretting letting go of the albums, but she never would have asked for them back, either. That Rico was offering them to her touched her so deeply.

  She stood and quickly made her way over to Rico, wrapping her arms around him. “Thank you so much. You can’t know how much this means to me.”

  “Oh, I think I do, baby. I saw how you two danced to those songs that first night two years ago. I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while now, but, well, life got in the way.”

  Angelina wondered what was going on with her friend. She used to spend so much time at daVinci’s before meeting Marc. Maybe she’d try and catch up with him sometime this summer, although she didn’t know when that would happen realistically. “You’re a good man and a good friend, Rico.” She hugged him again, dabbing at her eyes before returning to her seat where Marc waited for her.

  Marc squeezed her hand then asked, “How about a preview of tomorrow’s dancing?” He stood and helped her to her feet. They walked over to the jukebox. After he made a selection, Marc led her onto the dance floor.

  The opening strains of “All I Do is Dream of You” filled the room, and he drew her into his embrace. She smiled at his album choice as she rested her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes.

  “You look incredible in that dress, cara. The color suits you.”

  “Mama said it’s traditional for an Italian bride to wear green the night before her wedding.” Angelina had never heard of that, but while shopping for Mama’s dress, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off the cap-sleeved, emerald green, tea-length dress. Mama had insisted on paying for it when she bought her mother-of-the-bride dress.

  “Still, as beautiful as you are in it, I wish you were going home with me tonight so I could strip you out of it the minute we walk in the door.”

  Angelina smiled as the breath caught in her throat. She’d be staying at Mama’s with her bridal party so they could begin getting their hair and makeup done early for the two o’clock wedding.

  “I’m going to miss you tonight,” he said. “But you’ll be foremost in my dreams, amore.”

  “And you, mine.”

  The whimsical “Let’s Put Out the Lights (And Go to Sleep)” began to play as other couples joined them on the dance floor. It was one of Papa and Mama’s favorites. The song about a couple looking back on many years of marital bliss made her wonder about the years ahead of them. Would their love grow stronger than it was tonight? While Marc hadn’t been easy to love at first, Angelina wanted to be nowhere else in this world but in his arms for the rest of her life.

  No cute baby we can spank.

  “The only cute baby that’s getting spanked in our home will be you, amore,” Marc said. Adam and Karla, dancing nearby, laughed out loud—whether over Marc’s words or the line in the song, she wasn’t sure.

  Her thoughts turned to another aspect of their relationship. While they’d probably never be more than bedroom role players with an occasional dungeon visit for social reasons, she couldn’t wait for them to explore their special BDSM room in their new log home. Marc had had a fantastic playroom in the house he’d sold to Adam, but this one was assembled with only the two of them and their favorite activities in mind. It was much more personal to her than the other one.

  When the song ended, she started to pull away, but he wouldn’t let go. “One more. I’m going to hate not sleeping with you tonight in our bed and want to hold you as long as I can.”

  “Dream A Little Dream of Me” followed on the album. Movement around them told her the other couples were still dancing, too, so she settled against his chest again and became lost in the music—and Marc. This might be the longest night of her life. She’d become accustomed to his twenty-four-hour shift every third day since becoming an EMT in January. Tonight felt different, though. The evening stirred emotions always lying under the surface, leaving her missing Papa and raw from the loss. She wanted her man to hold and comfort her. But she wouldn’t change plans on Mama at this juncture. From tomorrow night until death parted them, she’d have Marc’s arms around her whenever he wasn’t on duty.

  “Thank you for not giving up on me, amore.”

  She pulled away and smiled up at him. “How could I? You captured my heart and wouldn’t let go.”

  He lowered his lips to her upturned ones and kissed her long and deep. Applause erupted around them, and they parted. Angelina’s cheeks grew warm, for some odd reason. She’d be kissing him in front of the entire congregation tomorrow. Mama started preparing to head to the house. Knowing their time tonight was coming to an end, she pulled Marc aside for a proper farewell.

  “I’m the one who’s going to be blue tonight, dreaming more than a little dream of you, Marc.”

  “Get some sleep, amore. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

  “You do the same.” It would probably be easier for him up there alone on the mountain in their gorgeous new home than it would be in Mama’s small house with all her friends, although that was part of the wedding experience, too.

  She wanted it all.

  * * *

  Marc downed the rest of his Birra Moretti and set the bottle on the bar. He and Franco had been talking about his and Angelina’s nonna’s neighborhood in Marsala giving him more ideas for the day he would take Angelina back to Sicily.

  The door to daVinci’s opened and closed, but Marc stayed focused on the conversation. The rehearsal dinner had ended an hour ago when the girls left, but some of the guys had decided to hang out a while longer. Marc wasn’t looking forward to returning to the house alone tonight. He already missed her.

  “We spent a lot of time at the family’s church. Nonna insisted on taking us to Mass every single morning of the week at an ungodly hour.”

  Angelina and Marc weren’t overly religious, so he might not have thought about taking her to church, but he made a mental note to go to a Mass with her in her ancestral home parish.

  “Be sure you take her on a stroll through Piazza della Loggia. Nonna let us go there on our own.”

  “What did she like most about it?”

  “Well, well, Marco. Drowning your sorrows the night before being saddled with the old ball and chain?”

  Fuck. What was she doing here?

  Chapter Eight

  Marc turned around to find Melissa the Bitch, as Angelina referred to her, standing behind him. She’d tried everything she could to come between them last year but had been no match for Angelina. When Melissa had been vanquished to Omaha, they’d thought they’d heard the last of her.

  Not wanting Franco or his brothers to overhear the way he intended to speak to Melissa, Marc excused himself. Grabbing her by the elbow, he hauled Melissa into the now-deserted pool room. He didn’t want Angelina’s brothers to think he disrespected women, but Melissa was in a class of her own—a very low one—and didn’t command any respect from him whatsoever.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded. He kept his voice low but didn’t curb his vehemence.

  She reached up to stroke his cheek and smiled. “Is that any way to greet your former fiancée?”

  He brushed her hand away. “Former being the operative word.” Thank God Angelina had left before Melissa the Bitch had shown up. Nothing and no one would mar their wedding. It was his job to make sure Melissa didn’t crash their day tomorrow.

  “I’ve stayed away to give you a chance to miss me, but I was shocked to see the announcement online that you actually intend to marry that…girl.”

  She said it as if Angelina were less experienced or sophisticated than she or that she would rather call her by some derogatory term
, but Marc had no intention of engaging in conversation with Melissa any longer than necessary. The bitch needed to be gone. Tonight.

  “Angelina is everything a man could want in his wife and life partner—and I’m the lucky bastard she said yes to.” He leaned closer, noticing how much make up she wore these days, and the cloying scent of her too-heavy perfume nearly closed up his throat.

  “I don’t know what you think you’re going to gain by showing up here, but you aren’t fit to be anywhere near Angelina. Now crawl back under whatever rock you’ve been hiding under—in Omaha or wherever—and leave us the hell alone.”

  She laughed as if he’d just shared some special memory from their past or a private joke. Great. The Giardano brothers were going to have his hide, especially Rafe. He still didn’t trust Marc as far as he could throw him. He wanted Rafe’s trust and acceptance and was trying hard to get him to believe he’d never hurt Angelina again.

  Melissa placed her hand on his chest, and Marc took a step back as if it were a claw with sharp talons.

  “Melissa, you disgust me. Whether you can accept that or not in your delusional world isn’t my problem, but if you show up tomorrow or ever come anywhere near Angelina or me again, you’ll be sorry.”

  “Threats, Marco? How gauche.”

  The woman had to be mentally unbalanced, but she wasn’t his problem. And she’d already caused him and his family enough grief. “Not idle threats. Stay away.”

  Without waiting for a response, he pivoted and returned to the bar to settle his tab. It was time to go home.

  Franco and Rico were deep in discussion. Rafe was nowhere to be seen. Thank goodness. Maybe he’d taken Matt back to his place, because both brothers were gone. Marc laid a couple bills on the bar.

  “Everything okay?” Luke asked as he set his long neck on the bar.

  “Yeah. I’m going to head home a little early, I think.” He didn’t know how much Luke knew about Melissa, but Marc had no interest in filling him in.

  “Is that woman going to be any trouble for you and Angel tomorrow?”

  “Not if she knows what’s good for her.” He put his wallet away and forced a smile. “I’ll see you in the morning. Thanks for being in the wedding.”

  “Thanks for asking. Cassie’s sure excited about it.”

  “Is Ryder going to make it? I know crowds aren’t his thing.”

  “He promised to try to get to the ceremony at least.”

  “That’s above and beyond the call. Tell him we understand if he can’t for any reason.”

  “Sure thing,” Luke said, clapping him on the shoulders. “Get some sleep.”

  He said good night to Luke and those remaining in the bar, including Rafe, who hadn’t left after all. Had Rafe seen Melissa or overheard any of their earlier conversation? Was she still skulking around? Honestly, he didn’t care to check into daVinci’s hiding places. Suddenly weary beyond words, he headed for the parking lot.

  Marc didn’t remember the drive to their recently completed log house. His mind became clouded with thoughts of what Melissa might do next. Letting himself in without turning on any of the lights, he was greeted by Lobo. The Australian shepherd mix excitedly wagged his tail, providing Marc with a bit of comfort after his run-in with his ex-fiancée. He took Lobo outside for a walk, using his phone app as a flashlight as they wandered into the woods. With each step, a sense of calm descended, and by the time he got back to the house, he was ready to feed the dog and hit the sack.

  But he found a Tahoe parked in his driveway. Looked like Rafe’s, although it was too dark to be certain. The tinted windows didn’t allow him to see inside, but as he rounded the full-sized SUV, he could make out the shadow of a man on the porch.

  “Where is she?” Rafe said without preamble.

  “At your mom’s with the other girls.” Hadn’t he paid attention at the rehearsal dinner as to what the plan was for tonight?

  “Don’t play stupid with me. You know who I’m talking about. I saw you two at the bar, and she left right on your tail.”

  “Melissa?” He hadn’t seen her leave but hadn’t really looked back, either.

  “I don’t know what her name is, but she sure as hell seemed to know you. Intimately, I would guess.”

  Merda. I don’t need this. Not tonight.

  “She’s someone from my past, but it’s been over between us for years, long before I met Angelina.”

  Rafe seemed to consider Marc’s words a moment, weighing whether he’d believe them or not. Then his expression hardened. “Tony mentioned you hooking up with an old fiancée named Melissa when you and Angelina were at the resort in Aspen last year for New Year’s weekend.”

  He wasn’t about to rehash that debacle of a weekend, especially not with Angelina’s overprotective big brother.

  “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Rafe.” Remembering Lobo, he proceeded toward the door, hoping Rafe would go and leave him alone. “I need to feed the dog. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you’ve completely gotten her out of your life—or your blood,” Rafe accused, closing in on his heels. So much for dismissing him. “Maybe you need to make a decision tonight which woman you want before you hurt my sister again.”

  Enough.

  Marc spun around, close to punching his future brother-in-law in the mouth. Chest to chest, Marc clenched his fists in an attempt to keep from grabbing Rafe by the shirt and tossing him on his ass. Both men’s nostrils flared as they struggled to control their anger.

  But Marc had a right to be angry. Barely four hours earlier, their relatives had shared a meal in celebration of Marc and Angelina’s upcoming marriage. It meant everything in the world to Angelina that her brothers accepted Marc as their families were joined. He couldn’t care less whether they did or didn’t like him, but seeing how far they were from trusting him to be faithful to Angelina pissed him off.

  “Rafe, I don’t care if you ever accept me as being good enough for Angelina. It’s fine if you want to be a dick around me every time we meet, too.” He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. “But don’t you dare doubt my love or faithfulness to Angelina ever again. There’s no one else in my life, and there hasn’t been since I met her.”

  “Prove it.”

  “I don’t have to prove a damned thing to you, Rafe. I already proved myself to your sister. She’s the one agreeing to spend the rest of her life with me and the only one who deserves it. I’ll work hard to prove myself to her every single day because it’s my job to make sure she never doubts or regrets her decision to marry me. But if you think she’s too blind to see the real me or that I’m not smart enough to see what a gift she is to me, then you don’t know either of us at all.”

  Merda! He’d spent this past year showing her brothers—Tony and Rafe, especially—that he’d changed from that lost SOB who’d made Angelina miserable over a year ago. He had his shit together ever since that interrogation scene. If he wasn’t good enough for them, then fuck them all. He intended to marry their sister tomorrow afternoon. No one was getting in their way. Not Rafe. Not Melissa. Nobody.

  “You’re just going to have to trust me. Open your eyes! We love each other and want to be together for the rest of our lives. If you can’t see that, then nothing I do or say is going to prove it to you,” Marc finished.

  “Mind if I take a look around and make sure you’re alone?” Obviously, he hadn’t believed a word Marc had said.

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do mind.” He paused a moment before continuing. He had nothing to hide, but letting Rafe inside to search the house for Melissa wouldn’t curb Rafe’s distrust. “Trust starts tonight, right here and now. I’m not going to let you dog my every move for the rest of my life.” If Rafe didn’t get to a point where he could trust Marc, there was going to be tension between them for their entire married life. Angelina didn’t need that. “Trust me, Rafe.”

  “Not happening.”

  “Then fuck off. I’m tired and
going to bed.” He walked past Rafe with Lobo at his side.

  “Alone?”

  Marc threw the first punch before he even realized he’d pivoted around. Then he followed up with another that Rafe blocked before plowing his fist into Marc’s mouth.

  Motherfucker, that hurt.

  Marc’s hand throbbed, but the two of them continued to rain blows against each other until both were out of breath and battered while Lobo barked and danced around them trying to break it up. Rafe better not leave cuts or bruises Marc would have to explain to Angelina tomorrow. She wouldn’t be happy hearing he’d been fighting with her brother, although the stinging in his lower lip told him he might need to come up with a story anyway.

  The crunch of tires distracted them both, and they turned to see who was coming. So much for his quiet night alone to reflect and get some damned sleep on the night before his wedding. Hunched over, with their palms resting above their knees, both men gasped to fill their lungs.

  It had better not be Melissa. Otherwise, nothing Marc could say would convince Rafe they hadn’t planned to meet up after their encounter at daVinci’s.

  Chapter Nine

  But when Adam’s SUV emerged from the woods, Marc breathed a little easier. Or tried to. How’d he gotten so out of shape? Too much time in the classroom training and not enough in the field yet, he supposed.

  Adam parked near Rafe’s vehicle and exited as Lobo greeted him with exuberance before chasing after something in the woods. Sauntering across the drive, his gaze went from one man to the other as he assessed the situation. “Everything okay here, Doc?”

  “Yeah,” Marc said, still trying to regulate his breathing. “Just burning off a little pre-wedding steam, I suppose.” He’d been steamed, all right.

  Adam’s dubious expression told Marc he hadn’t fooled the man—as if he ever could—but Marc remained quiet.