This dress was similar to the one Tullio had given her the night she’d met him. She’d wanted Big and I to have a piece of their love story with us tonight. Even though it wasn’t traditional, the union had produced a son, and that son had produced my husband.
No matter how anyone spun it, Tullio and Kitty had loved each other, and that love had created my love. And that love created…a new life between my husband and me.
After that thought came to me, I probably hugged Rocco too tight and got too emotional when I thanked him for singing during the ceremony. He was in the right spot at the right time.
Then I barked out a laugh when Rocco winked at me and said, “And we still have the reception to go.”
Even Tullio gave me a peculiar look after. His cyborg was throwing him for loops left and right. I was going to throw him for the biggest loop yet when I told him what his new title was—father—before we left for Greece in the morning.
That was when I decided…I was going to celebrate the night as if it would never happen again. I was going to dance with my husband, my friends and family, sing to the top of my lungs, sway to the sweet song Rocco would serenade us with for our first dance, “Promise Me You’ll Remember,” and wrap my husband’s arms around me even tighter when the fireworks lit up the Italian Riviera and we headed back to Hotel Tre to celebrate the night away.
I was going to celebrate as if I was one blink away from the scene changing, keeping my eyes wide open.
And after we fell into bed, me moaning because it felt so good to have cool sheets against my naked body, my husband pulled me closer and said, “If I would have known marrying you in a ceremony would have made you so happy, I would have been doing it every day.”
I met his eyes in the cloudy darkness, one bronze sconce on the wall shimmering with burning candlelight. “You would, wouldn’t you?”
“You want to bet me?”
A beat passed and I exploded with laughter, wrapping my arms around his neck as he came in to kiss me. It felt it even better than the bed—just like coming home after a long day did. He felt like the most expensive sheets, the kind that cool you, but also a worn-out blanket that warms in the coldest of nights. I felt drunk on his love and high on fulfillment. Maybe if he’d set me loose in the sea, I’d float.
I broke the kiss, breathless, but my hands still reached for him, exploring his gorgeous body. He pulled away some, and I made a frustrated noise.
He grinned at me. “Get dressed.”
“What?” I wasn’t a whiner, but I knew the one word sounded like it.
“What the fuck has gotten into you?”
“Ask me that in a few hours and I’ll say you.” I smiled big.
He threw back his head and roared with laughter, his hand coming to my stomach, his fingers splaying. He shook me some. “Wear the red dress for me, Aphrodite.”
I stared at him for a second. The red dress was a satin corset dress, the hem landing below my ankles. I’d planned to wear it for him for a special occasion, a sexy dinner out, probably, but…considering I was sick of wearing dresses that felt like they were constricting oxygen, I really didn’t want to. I was going to tell him then, about the pregnancy, but the hungry look in his eyes forced me to my feet.
“Aphrodite.”
“Hmm?” I stopped and turned to him. He was laying on the bed, sans jacket and shoes, and his tie was undone, his sleeves rolled, his hair messed. He was the arrow to my heart too. It felt like it was bleeding out a little when he looked at me the way he was. Like I was everything to him.
“You know why I call you Aphrodite?” he whispered.
“Yeah,” I whispered too. “I’m half Greek.”
His smile came slow. “She represents love and beauty, so when I call youmyAphrodite…” He gave me an expectant look. He wanted me to answer.
“You’re calling me love and beauty.”
He pointed to his chest. “Mine. All. Fucking. Mine.”
His words gave me a rush, and I hurried to snag the dress and put it on. I had far from a belly bulge, but I just felt so bloated. Maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me, but the dress was so tight, I felt like I could see it in the mirror. I wondered if this was a sign that I was going to be huge. I really didn’t mind, though. If that was what it took for this baby to be healthy, I’d be huge.
I smiled at myself, then realized I was going to need Big’s help zipping the dress. I didn’t even need to call for him. He was waiting to do it. His one hand snaked around me, going for the zipper, and his other buried deep in my hair. He pulled my mouth to his and kissed the breath from me as he secured me in the dress.
A man of many talents, my husband. He was like magic. He could turn me onwhiledressing me.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, my Aphrodite,” he roughly whispered against my lips, tilting my head back so he could look into my eyes. Whenever Big was turned on, the set of his face was dangerous. His eyes were so intense, they made my heart race like he was about to start chasing me.
Maybe he was.
