Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“And the marriage will be real?” Beckett asked.
“Yes. It’s more of a business arrangement than anything else—we’re just friends—but we are really getting married.” It was the first time I’d ever referred to Bianca as my friend. It felt nice, actually.
“Well, then.” Beckett poured one more round of shots and picked up his glass. “To friendship.”
Cole raised his shot. “And fatherhood.”
Griffin lifted his glass. “And fuck the Mavs.”
“Fuck the Mavs,” the rest of us chorused, and my heart felt free. I breathed easier.
For about an hour.
Right around four that afternoon, I stood on the sidewalk in front of City Hall as Griffin’s old red pickup pulled up with Bianca in the passenger seat. Immediately I felt that vise start to cinch around my lungs again. It was hard to see through the window, but my pulse picked up anyway.
I went to the truck and opened her door, and when she smiled at me, it took off in a full-on gallop.
She was stunning.
In a complete stupor, I offered my hand to help her down, and she put her palm in mine before carefully attempting to place one red heel onto the running board—but she was too short.
She looked at me. “Um, remember that time you said you’d help me reach the things I couldn’t reach? How about when the thing is the ground?”
Grinning, I put my hand around her tiny waist and lifted her out of the truck, setting her gently on her feet. “How’s that?”
She laughed and gave me a little curtsy. “Thank you, kind sir.”
I let my eyes sweep over her from head to foot, lingering briefly on her ruby lips. Gooseflesh rippled my skin beneath my suit. “You look beautiful, Bianca. I mean it.”
“Thank you. You look very handsome.”
“Thanks.” I offered her my elbow. “Shall we get married?”
She laughed. “We shall.”
Everyone who’d gathered in front of City Hall—mostly our family and closest friends, but also a few strangers who happened to be wandering by—applauded and cheered as we made our way up the steps. I opened the glass door for Bianca and followed her inside. The courtroom, where the ceremony would take place, was upstairs.
“We have a few minutes,” she said. “Do you think we should rehearse our vows?”
I tried to speak but words didn’t come. Her face was knocking me out. Had she done something different with her eye makeup? Her eyes just looked so sweet and pure and blue. How had I never noticed the tiny smattering of freckles across her nose? Or the way one eyebrow arched higher than the other? And those lips—they nearly matched the satin color of her shoes, but they didn’t look sticky, like her lipstick would come off on me. They looked soft and delicious, like a ripe red cherry. What would they taste like? We’d kissed a couple times for show, but there’d never been any tongue involved.
Now I wanted to put my tongue in her mouth. What the actual fuck?
“Enzo?”
Oh shit. She’d asked a question about the vows, hadn’t she? “Uh, let’s not rehearse them. I feel like it will be more fun to surprise each other.”
“Okay.” She glanced around the lobby. “Should we find somewhere to wait? So we can make more of an entrance upstairs?”
“Yeah.” Composing myself, I took her hand. “Come with me.”
Our options were limited, since this was a municipal building, not a wedding venue, and most of the offices were occupied. But at the end of the hall was a stairwell, and we ducked into it.
Facing her again, I took a small box from inside my jacket pocket. “I have something for you.”
Her lower lip dropped. “Enzo! I don’t have anything for you!”
“Just open it.”
Frowning, she handed me her bouquet of white roses. “Hold these, please.”
I took them from her and gave her the little leather box, which was new, although the jewelry inside was not. She opened its hinges and gasped at the small diamond earrings twinkling in white velvet. Her face lit up. “Oh, Enzo, they’re beautiful!”
“They were my mother’s,” I said. “My father gave them to her on their wedding day. They were his mother’s before that—a gift from her father, the original Enzo.”
“Oh my goodness, I’m going to cry.” She fanned her face with one hand. “It’s too much.”
“Do you want to wear them? You don’t have to,” I said quickly. “I figured you’d be wearing jewelry already, but—”
“Of course I want to wear them.” Quickly, she pulled the backings off the small gold hoops she had on. “These are no big deal. But can I put them in your pocket? Blair has my purse.”
“Sure.” I took the tiny hoops from her and tucked them into my pocket, watching as she put on one diamond stud, and then the other. Inside the small, confined space, the scent of her perfume was even more beguiling.