Chapter Twenty-Two

Jillian

“Are you nervous? Are you getting cold feet? Do I need to put on my running shoes so I can catch you when you take off?”

Damon stood in the hall outside the door of one of our guest bedrooms while I attempted to get dressed. For our wedding ceremony. While he was trying to be funny with the barrage of questions, I wasn’t feeling the humor.

My dress didn’t fit.

I knew it. I’d predicted this would happen, even waiting until a week before the wedding to pick up my dress. Even though I had extra room around the waist just seven days ago, the twins had filled in the gap and then some. To add insult to injury, my boobs decided all on their own to pass Go a few times, collecting more volume with each go-round. My dress wouldn’t zip past halfway up my back, but it wouldn’t have mattered even if I could suck it in enough to make the zipper move more. My fucking boobs were spilling out over the top of my strapless dress.

There was sure to be a nipple incident if I pushed my luck.

“I’m way past the running stage now. It’s more of a fast wobble. Like Weebles.”

His quick burst of laughter quickly covered up by an exaggerated cough didn’t go unnoticed. “Doll, I told you before. I don’t care what you wear, as long as you marry me. You can say the vows in maternity shorts and an oversized T-shirt. I don’t care. Honest to God, it wouldn’t bother me. I’ll go change out of this monkey suit and match you.”

“Damon, I’m not getting married in maternity shorts.”

I heard a thud on the other side of the door and knew without asking the noise came from his forehead hitting it.

“Jilllllll-eeeeee-annnnn.” He drew my name out in long syllables, pouring on the charm and keeping his voice reassuring. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yes, I know you do. You know I love you too.”

“Then you know I mean this with all the love in my heart.” He paused for dramatic emphasis. “Get your ass out here and marry me right now.”

“Nope.”

“I’ve got it! I exchanged her dress for one almost exactly the same pattern. She’ll be dressed in just a few minutes. Damon, get downstairs to your spot where you’re supposed to be and stop harassing my sister-in-law before she crawls out the window and shimmies down the drainpipe out of desperation.” Carrie always did have a way with her brother.

“If that dress doesn’t work, wrap a white sheet around her and call it a designer gown, Carrie. Get her down the aisle and in front of the altar.” After his demand, the hard footfall of his steps diminished, so he’d at least followed her instructions.

Carrie rushed into the room, breathing heavily while carrying an extra-large garment bag. “Here, sis. This is just like the original dress, only better. The waistline is much higher, right under your boobs, so it’ll give your stomach plenty of room.”

She hung up the bag on the coat rack and unzipped it. I held my breath until she stepped out from in front of it. “Oh, Carrie, it’s perfect. I love it even more than the original.”

She was right—the bodice design of the original dress was way too tight all the way down to where I used to have a waist. But the replacement was exquisite—a strapless white dress with champagne gold applique that started on the breasts and flowed down the skirt. When I stepped into it, the zipper slid all the way to the top without a problem. My fuller breasts filled the strapless bodice with ease, keeping it snug but not too tight. With my veil in place, I was ready to walk down the aisle.

Barefoot. Because my feet were too swollen to fit into my shoes.

Carrie handed me the bouquet of flowers—deep purple Chapeau de Napoléon roses mixed with lighter purple morning glories and white calla lilies. Carrie was my gorgeous maid of honor. She slipped into her dress that was the same deep purple as the roses, with a halter top neckline and a high waist. Then she picked up her bouquet and flashed a nervous smile.

“It’s time, Jillian. Are you ready?”

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life, Carrie. I’m walking toward the rest of my life—happier than I’ve ever been. The crazy hit man I fell so desperately in love with is waiting at the end of the aisle for me. We’re getting married inside our home, filling it with so many happy memories and promises and declarations of our commitment to each other. Before we know it, our home will be filled with the sounds of our babies. This is more than I’ve ever even dreamed of having, and I can’t wait to start this beautiful new life as married partners.”

“Married partners in crime.”

“That too.”

We laughed together like young schoolgirls until we heard a quick rap on the door.

“Damon, she’s coming out now. Cool your jets.”

The door slowly opened, and there stood my soon-to-be father-in-law, dressed to kill in his black tuxedo and white shirt. He didn’t even try to hide the mist in his eyes after he took a good look at me in my wedding gown.

“Cara, you’re so beautiful. I’m honored to have you on my arm and present you to marry my son. Come with me, bella. He’s waiting—very impatiently, I should add.”

I slipped my hand around his proffered elbow and gave it a squeeze. “You look very handsome yourself, Dad. Let’s take a stroll and see if we can find your son.”

The music started when Carrie and Marco stepped into the double doorway of the great room. When they’d taken their places on either side of the aisle, the wedding march began.

“Here we go, cara. I’m so proud to call you my daughter. Damon couldn’t have picked a better woman than you. I love you, Jillian.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

The room was full of people—all of them were my new family. Blood or water, it didn’t matter. We’d stick together through the good times and the bad times. The man of my dreams watched me with a heated gaze, his eyes traveling up and down my body several times on my approach. When we finally reached him, I read his lips when he mouthed the words to me.

“You are stunning. I love you so much.”

Vincenzo announced he was presenting me to his son, but he refused to acknowledge he was giving me away. The crowd laughed along with us, and it felt so right in my soul. Our wedding was a celebration of our love, and that included all the laughter that came with it. Uptight and formal was never my style anyway. Vincenzo joined my hands with Damon’s, then used his big hands to cover ours.

“There’s something I’d like to say. I’ll make it brief. Jillian, when I first met you, I knew you were different. I had a very strong feeling you’d change my son for the better, that you’d bring the light and love and laughter to him that had been missing for most of his adult life. You’ve done more than that. You’ve made him a better man, and I didn’t even think that was possible. Lina and I are ecstatic to call you our daughter, now and forever. I could never fill your father’s shoes, and I don’t even want to try because he had to be a very good man to raise such a wonderful daughter as you. But I hope you’ve saved a small place in your heart for me to be your new dad.”

Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I rose up on my toes and kissed Vincenzo’s cheeks. “I love you, Dad. You have a very special place in my heart, and you always will. Thank you for everything you said. Words can’t express how much it means to me.”

When Vincenzo took his seat next to Mama Lina, Damon and I turned to face the priest. The vows were a blur because all I could think about was how happy I was, how happy he still made me after everything we’d been through. A family bigger than I ever could’ve hoped to have. Our twin babies that would join us in only a few months. The sister I never had. But most of all, I was marrying a sexy as hell, dangerous bad boy, secret romantic, protective alpha man who showered me with love and spoiled me to no end.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

In true Damon Marchetti fashion, he broke tradition when he circled his arms around me, dipped me with a sudden lurch to the side, and turned me into putty in his hands with his obscenely inappropriate but insanely hot and sensual kiss. Public display of affection? No. Had a cop been present, we’d have been arrested for having public mouth sex.

The priest presented us to our guests as Mr. and Mrs. Damon Marchetti, and we were greeted by loud cheers and thunderous applause. Damon leaned over to me, kissing me on the cheek before whispering in my ear.

“You’re all mine now, doll. I have papers on you to prove it.”

“What a coincidence. You’re all mine too, and I have the same papers to prove it.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely. Speaking of fucking, can we tell everyone to get out now? We need to consummate our marriage as soon as possible.”

“No. We have too much cake to eat for everyone to leave just yet. But I’m sure I need help with my zipper or something.”

“Fuck the zipper. I have a better idea.”

We walked back up the aisle arm in arm and with smiles so big I thought our faces might permanently freeze that way. The family began filing out of the great room and moving outside onto the covered terrace, where the cake and finger foods were laid out for our reception. But Damon steered us in the opposite direction, toward the library on the opposite side of the house.

“What are you doing, Damon?”

“I wasn’t kidding, doll.” He closed and locked the door behind us. “Now, this may seem a little familiar, but since we still have to take a bazillion pictures, this position will have to do for now. Bend over the back of the couch and hold on to something. Tight.”

He lifted the back of my dress and hissed when he saw I wasn’t wearing any panties. I heard his zipper lower. A hand gripped the back of my neck before he positioned his cock at my entrance, sliding it up and down me, teasing and driving me out of my mind. Then with a sudden thrust, he filled me so fully I felt my delicate skin stretch. The hand on the back of my neck squeezed, and then he placed his other hand on my hip. His deep lunges at that angle hit the sweet spot every time, making my body crave him more with every movement.

Though it was the same thrilling sensation he’d always given me, our union was also different that time. We were literally one person, our bodies so connected it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Our love and our life together felt the same way—only whole and complete when we were together. Mad with love and insane with need that only intensified when he was inside me. The feeling of being so completely loved and worshiped while also feeling so completely satiated by the one man who was capable of taking me to the highest highs.

Unquestionable. Unstoppable. Unyielding.

Passionate. Consuming. Relentless.

Our love for one another matched the ferocity of our lovemaking in every way. The words he spoke, the pleasure he gave, and his fingers digging into my skin created the perfect storm of hedonism and decadence. I was unable to hold back any longer. The free-falling sensation began low in my abdomen and quickly spread until I couldn’t stop the shudders and shakes that tore through me. Feeling my violent and forceful release, Damon followed close behind me before his upper body collapsed onto my back while supporting his weight with his arms on either side of me.

“Mrs. Marchetti, I think you’re already trying to kill me. That was so fucking hot.”

“Mr. Marchetti, if I were trying to kill you, it would be with a knife at your throat while you slept. Not while you’re making me scream your name in ecstasy.”

He chuckled and kissed the back of my neck, where I was sure the light bruises from his hold on me would begin to show within the hour. Not that I minded, but I did hope our wedding guests were well on their way out the door by that time.

After cleaning up, we rejoined the festivities on the terrace. Cutting the cake, feeding each other, throwing the bouquet and garter—all the traditional wedding activities. We also took more pictures than should be allowed, but I knew once I saw them, I’d cherish them all. Then a slow song came over the speakers, drowning out the multitude of conversations and making everyone pause to watch as Damon and I had our first dance as husband and wife.

After several lines of the familiar love song, I glanced away from Damon for a split second—long enough to see Carrie step into Lorenzo’s arms, and their bodies began to sway as one.

“You invited Lorenzo.” I jerked my eyes back to Damon, his knowing smirk squarely in place. “Are you turning soft, Damon?”

“I’ve already shown you once today exactly how hard I am. Sounds like I need to prove it to you again.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, husband.” I chuckled at the mere thought. “Thank you for doing that. You made your sister very happy.”

“As long as he’s good to her, I’m okay with it. What I care about most is that you’re happy, wifey.”

“I have you. How could I not be?’

When the wedding party left and the house was finally quiet, we changed into our comfortable pajamas, settled on the overstuffed sectional sofa in his newly decorated man cave, and relived the entire day through each other’s eyes.

The next day, we’d leave for Maui to enjoy our two-week honeymoon before my ban on travel started. But for that night, we were lost in each other and the miracle of love that brought and kept us together.

“When we get back from Maui, Mama and Dad are taking an extended trip to Italy. They’ll be back before the babies are born, but Dad will hand over the keys to the kingdom to me before they leave. So, for the two weeks we’re away, we’ll simply be Damon and Jillian—madly in love newlyweds with no other cares in the world. Sun, sand, sea, and sight-seeing like two normal tourists.”

“You won’t hear any complaining from me. I get you all to myself for two solid weeks. No sharing you with anyone else for any reason. No cell phones. No computers. No communication with the outside world at all. If there’s an emergency, they’ll have to call the hotel. Deal?”

“I completely agree. Totally alone. We can even stay in the room naked the whole time and leave the phone off the hook. That’s a fucking deal right there.”