“Again,” I whisper, but before I kiss my bride, I unzip my back pocket. Belle thinks I wore these pants because they were stylish, but I wore them for the practicality of keeping something safe.
“Oh my God,” Belle cries, covering her mouth as a soft sob escapes her lips. “Jack. What? How?”
I slip the diamond wedding band, which I’ve held safe for the last few days, onto Belle’s slender finger. When we returned from Paris, I ran to the jeweler, knowing it was the right time.
I packed it for Italy, knowing this was it for us. If she finally let go like I knew she would, I wanted to make sure our life in London started on the right foot—her as mine, as my wife, not just on paper but in every sense.
Looking down at the ring on my beautiful wife’s finger, I understand why rings are so symbolic, or at least for me and Belle. We’ve finally come full circle. There’s no turning back now.
“Jack?”
I look up, and both Belle and Alessia are standing there with tears running down their faces. “I bought this ring in London. I thought if we had a second alone today, giving it to you in the vineyards of Tuscany would have been romantic. We didn’t have a chance, which thankfully worked out, because here and now is the exact right time.”
Belle rolls her lips, trying to get ahold of her emotions. “I love it so much. Thank you, Jack. Will you wear a band if I get you one?”
“It would be my honor, sweetheart. I want everyone to know you’re mine as much as I want them to know I belong to you.”
Belle throws herself at me, and I barely have a second to catch her, but when I do, her lips crash against mine while Alessia yells, “You may kiss the bride,” from somewhere in the distance.
Her kiss is desperate as she aggressively takes my lips. Our mouths open in a rush, our tongues gliding against one another, and it feels like nothing but home. She starts to melt against my body, so I hold her tighter, growling into her mouth when her hands slide through my hair, pulling at it in despair.
“Okay, okay, not so much a ‘church kiss’ anymore, you two,” Alessia calls, laughing at our need for one another.
I always want her, I can’t help myself.
We disconnect slightly, panting heavily, smiling wide, and I know this is it… it’s the beginning of everything.
The good, the bad, whatever it is. I’m ready for it with Belle by my side.
“Now we really have a reason to go dancing. We need to celebrate!” Belle calls, and she’s right. It’s time to have some fun.
19
Annabelle
I throwmy arm around Alessia and cheers her with my gin and tonic. “Thanks for hosting us. It turned out to be a brilliant day,” I scream over the 90s music blasting in this small-town pub.
“Cin, cin, Annabelle. I’m glad our working relationship has turned into a great friendship.”
Alessia was one of my first clients and she’s been invaluable to my business ever since. Her family owns one of the oldest textile companies based in Milan and Florence, and she was recently named CEO, which has not been easy for her in a male-dominated industry.
The Italian businessmen have been less welcoming, and we often bond over the hardships of running a business.
She introduced me to the DeLucas and the many fashion houses I work for, including the up-and-coming fashion designer who attended the wine tasting tonight. I was lucky enough to squeeze in a small pitch for her, since the Italians take their time off seriously and there was no other work-talk allowed.
But I will most definitely be following up the second I’m home. The fashion world has always been my main focus, and I hope one day I have the ability to focus solely on that and get rid of the athletes.
I bump her side to get her attention again. “Sooo,” I drag out, “I remember you telling me the DeLucas are best friends with your parents so you often went on holiday with them as kids. Has anything ever happened with Romeo?”
The second the words are out of my mouth, an instant blush fills her cheeks.
“Shut up. It has, hasn’t it?”
“Nothing serious, just teenagers fooling around.” She shrugs, but something tells me that’s not the whole truth, so I keep my eyes on her until she says more. “It’s nothing, we tried dating in our twenties, but he didn’t want anything serious. Romeo is like a typical Italian man, he loves women, and women love him. So, when we were younger, that was more appealing to him than anything serious with me.” She tries to play it off, but I can still see it affects her.
“He seems like a good lad. Maybe things will be different now that he’s older. Look at me and Jack. I’ve told you about him in the past. Something clicked finally, and we’re making it work.”
Her frown turns to a genuine smile. “We’ll let the many women of Italy have Romeo, but I have to say, I’ve not seen a man so obsessed with a woman before. Jack loves you very much.”
