Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 15867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 79(@200wpm)___ 63(@250wpm)___ 53(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 79(@200wpm)___ 63(@250wpm)___ 53(@300wpm)
He's so thoughtful. He even found a way to drain almost all of the tension living in me before the ceremony. Except now there's a whole host of other emotions swirling inside of me, all stemming from how good his mouth had felt on mine … and between my legs.
I barely notice anything other than Xavier, but his father standing next to him catches my eye as well. Xavier had no groomsmen, but like me, his father stands with him, and it tugs at my heartstrings a little. I met the man yesterday, and it was like all the puzzle pieces about this fly-by-night matrimony had fallen into place.
Salvatore Romano is tall like his son, and the breadth of his shoulders told me he had probably been broad in his youth, too. Illness had taken that from him, and he is thin and pale, but still strong enough to be next to his son on his big day. He had been kind to me when I spoke to him yesterday, taking both my hands in his and telling me over and over again how happy he was to welcome me to the family. Xavier told me when we were alone again that his father had been a hardass before he got sick, but the illness had softened him up.
The obvious affection between the two men and the joy on Salvatore's face made this farce feel almost worth it. If nothing else, I can see why Xavier is willing to go to any lengths to make him happy, even marrying a stranger.
Well, we're a lot less strangers after what just happened in the bedroom, at least.
I managed to clean my makeup up, wipe my lipstick off Xavier's face, but my hair was unsalvageable. I pulled it down from its updo and ran damp fingers through the stiff curls until they fell into soft waves. It looks intentional enough that no one will be able to suss out what the groom and I had been up to less than an hour ago.
Or at least I hope so.
The aisle seems a million miles long, but finally we make it to Xavier, and my father hands me off, sniffling audibly as if he doesn't know this is all bullshit. Xavier smiles, his teeth bright white, and the quivering in my legs intensifies.
Oh, it's going to be a long, long day.
The ceremony is short and sweet, our vows identical and generic, but it gets the job done. I’m infinitely glad we already kissed and then some earlier, because it took most of the nerves out of our 'kiss the bride' moment, even if we both lingered longer than necessary.
Xavier and I still haven't had time to talk about what happened between us, but I have to keep reminding myself there will be plenty of time for that later.
Once the ceremony is over, the hired staff switches everything over, adding tables, a small bar, and a carefully assembled table of hors d'oeuvres. In a flash, a glass of champagne is shoved into my hand, and before I can blink, Xavier is gone, and I’m stuck talking to his numerous distant relatives. I rehearsed our agreed-upon story—meeting at one of my father's restaurants, falling head over heels for each other at warp speed—and I happily tell it over and over again, sneaking bites of smoked salmon crostinis and cucumber sandwiches when I can.
Everything is happening so fast, I don't even have time to process that I'm married. I'm Maria Romano now, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, and that's who I'll be for the foreseeable future. I'm glad for the chaos, because if I think about it too long, it makes me feel like I'm going to panic.
There is no sit-down dinner or speeches, and our first dance is a quick spin across the sand while the same string quartet that played me down the aisle plucks out something slow and sweet. Finally, people start to depart, and Xavier is next to me, linking our fingers together in a way that seems much too familiar for how long we've known each other.
He leans his head down to whisper into my ear, "It's time to go. Let's get the hell out of here."
In another flurry of activity, Xavier leads me through the thinning crowd to my room, where I shimmy out of the dress, lay it gently on the bed, and change into something more comfortable for the flight. It's another dress, still white, but soft and flowing down to my knees. Casual and breezy, which is the opposite of what I'm feeling right now.
The bags had been packed last night, and all that's left to do is follow Xavier out to the waiting car and let the driver take us to the airport.
Once the car doors are shut, the quiet is so intense that it's almost distressing. I look up at Xavier, sitting beside me in jeans once more, with my heart in my throat.