2
Tilly
Betty’s taken the kids for the night. She said I needed a girls’ night out before the big day. I told her I didn’t want to go out, and I’d rather be home with Brax and Tate than anywhere else in the world.
She wouldn’t hear it.
“Trust me, sweetheart. You’ll thank me someday,” she said when she picked them up. “Your cousins will be here soon to get you.”
Cousins? No one said anything about meeting the cousins tonight. I figured I’d hang out with Daphne, Bianca, and Delilah for the night, drinking a few martinis and laughing about our crazy men.
Clearly, they had other plans and didn’t bother to share them with me.
I knew the guys were all together, and I should’ve known the women would be too. I begged them not to make a big deal out of tonight. It is my second marriage, after all, and I’m not a young kid, looking to party and get drunk, having my final night of freedom.
I’d been alone long enough.
I’m getting married tomorrow.
I repeat the words over and over in my head as I change my clothes, fix my makeup, and pull my hair into a tight ponytail. The entire thing still feels surreal. I never thought I’d walk down the aisle again. Figured I’d be alone forever because moving on was too painful and the memory of Mitchell haunted me sometimes too.
But then Angelo happened.
That man, with his fine ass, sweet lips, and rough hands, swept me off my feet, not giving me a chance to catch my breath. The kids just sealed the deal. Especially Tate. That little girl had me wrapped around her finger from the moment I met her. She knew it too, using my feelings for her to her advantage, but I didn’t mind.
The door opens downstairs as I smooth out the top of my hair, and my fingers begin to tremble, almost ruining my updo. I push away the panic and take a deep breath, looking at myself in the mirror one last time.
“You can do this,” I tell myself, like I need a pep talk to be around people.
I’ve always been a people person, but there’s something so intimidating about the fact that I’m meeting his family. My family.
Holy shit.
Not only am I marrying a man, but his entire, huge-ass Italian family comes as part of the package. The thought is overwhelming after being along for so very long.
“Tilly! Where the hell are you, girl?” Daphne yells up the stairway as I’m still trying to pull on my strappy sandals, but they’re not cooperating.
“Coming!” I yell back, hopping on one foot, trying like hell not to fall over. I catch myself on the edge of the bed and sit quickly, somehow getting my sandals on with my shaking fingers.
I take a deep breath as I climb to my feet and go to the full-length mirror near the closet. I look good. No, I look damn good. I only wish Angelo could see me looking this fabulous, rocking my sexy outfit and with my hair up the way he likes it.
“It’ll be okay,” I say to my reflection before I take off toward the hallway. As I make my way downstairs, I see them all gathered in the foyer, talking and laughing, but they’re not looking at me.
“There she is,” Daphne says, meeting my eyes and waving her hand in my direction.
Everyone turns to look at me, and I feel the flush across my face. “Hi,” I squeak, unable to play it cool.
Shit.
They’re all beautiful. I should’ve known. They are Gallos, after all. Or at least married to one. I don’t mean cute or a little pretty but drop-dead gorgeous.
“This is Mia, Max, Izzy, Race, Angel, and Suzy,” Daphne rattles off, pointing to each one as she says their name.
I wave, not bothering to talk because I don’t want to sound like a tween girl.
Daphne grabs my hand as soon as I’m close enough and pulls me to her. “Isn’t she perfect?”
I don’t know what to do or how to act as they all just stare at me. This must be what it’s like to be a zoo animal. “Oh, stop,” I say with a hint of laughter.
