He lowers his head, his worried gaze flicking over mine before he whispers by my ear, “What are you thinking about so deeply?”
“Everything… The past,” I reply softly so the others won’t hear. “Your family is so kind to me.”
“That’s because you’re one of us now.” His arm tightens around my shoulders, and when I rest my cheek against his chest and place my hand on his abs, his scent fills my lungs.
My husband.
Not some guy I’m thinking of dating.
Not my boyfriend.
My husband.
Angelo also forced Tori to marry him, and they still look very much in love and devoted to each other.
I tilt my head back and see Adriano’s still staring down at me while his thumb strokes my bicep. Our eyes lock, and while a movie starts playing on the TV, I fall head over heels in love with my husband.
He leans down and presses a soft kiss to my mouth that makes tingles spread through me before they gather around my heart, shocking it to life so it beats only for this man.
Adriano’s eyes fill with tenderness, looking at me in a way no one ever has.
Tiny barks out a laugh, and it rips my attention to the rest of the room.
Snuggling against my husband’s chest, I realize we’re watchingThe Lost Citywith Sandra Bullock.
I only got to see the beginning before Austin stole the remote so he could switch to some documentary, which he always liked for background noise while he napped on the couch.
Tori grabs a bowl of popcorn and holds it out to us. Adriano takes a handful, then tells me, “Help me. My other arm is currently occupied.”
My lips curve up as I pick up a kernel and feed him.
“So adorable,” Big Ricky mumbles with a broad smile on his face while he watches us.
“Watch the movie you picked,” Angelo grumbles at him.
“How about you have some candy to sweeten your sour mood,” Big Ricky fires back.
“Hush. We’re trying to watch,” Tori silences them, but it’s no use because the men keep bickering straight through the entire movie.
By the time the credits roll across the screen, I feel at home between the group of people who are now my family.
The past four days, I’ve been alternating between feeling okay and wanting to cry my eyes out.
As Little Ricky drives us to the church where Elise’s service is being held, I stare out the window at the foreign landscape where Elise was born and raised.
God, it’s a whole different world.
We drive past little cafés tucked between old storefronts, their outdoor tables crowded close to the street. Then the scenery changes to rows of narrow brick buildings with flower boxes beneath the windows and bicycles lined along the sidewalks.
It’s so pretty here.
Adriano presses a kiss to my hair, then asks, “How are you holding up?”
Turning my head to look at him, I reply, “I’m okay.”
The flight from the States to Belgium was a luxurious experience. Adriano brought a whole team of men, and I’ve been told Marco and Paulie are my guards.
I’ll have to get used to having them with me whenever I go out.