“I’ll tell Marcello there’s no scowling allowed. Looks like our guests are starting to arrive. I better go finish getting ready.” She made a quick retreat before Ally asked any more questions.
The caterers had been instructed to have their guests sit down first. She wanted everyone to eat and then party afterward.
Not wanting to keep them waiting, she hurried to her bedroom to get ready. She’d laid everything out, had her makeup and hair done earlier, so she should be able to be presentable in under fifteen minutes. Hopefully, her sister was getting the kids ready like they’d planned.
Marcello, dressed in the suit she’d picked for him, was sitting on a bench in his closet, tying his shoes when she found him. She said, “Good, you’re ready. Now get out.”
“There’s my sweet-talking wife.” He stood and stole her iced tea. “You told me we have to enter the party together. Where do you suggest I go?”
“There are a million rooms in this joint. Pick one that’s nearby.” She laid both hands on his broad back and pushed him out of his ginormous closet. When they got to the bedroom, she said, “I’ll have my sister find you when I’m ready.”
He stopped letting her push and turned around. While running a hand up and down her arm, he said, “Breathe, Rachel. It’s just a party with our family and a few friends.”
“Okay. But go. I’ll be right out.”
He let her tug him toward the door again while mumbling how silly she was acting in Italian, as if she couldn’t understand him.
“Wait. Even better. Could you go help my sister get the kids ready? Then I’ll meet you in the foyer in ten, and we’ll all go outside together.” She swiped her glass of tea back and took a long drink.
“Ten minutes?” He crossed his arms and raised a brow. “Seriously?”
She lifted her chin. “Wanna make a bet?”
“No. I never win when I bet with you. It’s very annoying.” He leaned down and kissed her. “See you in ten.”
She waited for him to disappear down the stairs because she didn’t want him to see her until she was all put together. Once he was gone, she jogged to the bathroom and slipped into the dress she’d had made just for the occasion. Hannah had a modest version of the same dress, and Ian was going to match Marcello.
Eight minutes later, her hair was fixed, her makeup touched up, and her lips a pale pink. She slipped into a pair of fabulous heels that were bound to make her regret them by the end of the night but that would hopefully make her legs look amazing.
She took one last perusal in the mirror. The gold thread in the fabric and the hand-stitched beading sparkled under the lights. The low cut “V” in the front showed just enough to entice her husband while keeping things PG in front of her dad. She was ready to roll.
By the time she hit the foyer, she had a whopping thirty-five seconds to spare. Marcello had his back to her as he bent down to fix Hannah’s shoe. She looked like a little princess, and it made Rachel’s heart turn to mush. Ian wasn’t happy about wearing a tie, but he looked as handsome as his father. That tie wasn’t going to look like that for much longer, so they needed to hurry. “All set, guys?”
“Glad I didn’t take that bet.” Marcello stood and turned around. His eyes widened, and a huge grin lit his face. “Bella. You look stunning.” He took her hand and spun her around. “That is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.” He gave her a sweet kiss. “Perfect for the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Thank you. And you look handsome as always.” She held her hands out to the kids, who were happy to show anyone who’d watch that they could walk. Albeit a little like drunken sailors. “Let’s go party!”
Ian clapped his hands. “Cake!”
“Yes, we’ll have cake. After dinner.”
While they slowly toddled toward the backyard, Marcello grew impatient with the pace and scooped up both the kids. “There may be some fun surprises too if you both behave today, Sì?”
They both said, “Sì, Papa!” and made Rachel smile. Ally had taught them to say that whenever Marcello said “Sì?” She loved when they said the few words they knew in Italian. Between Ally and Marcello’s aunt, the kids were going to speak Italian better than she could before long.
When they arrived on the back patio, she tugged on Marcello’s arm to stop him. That was Lori’s cue to begin.
Her sister said, “I see the birthday kids have finally arrived. Along with their beautiful parents. Before we begin the birthday party, would you come up front with the kids, Marcello?”
He whispered, “What’s going on?”
“You’ll see.” She pushed him forward.
While they walked to the arbor, she glanced around at their guests. Deek and the kids were grinning ear to ear because they knew what was about to happen. Her niece, Emily, gave her a thumbs-up.
But her parents, along with Shelby and Nick, had perplexed expressions on their faces. Jo and Chad had come with their new baby and were cooing over her, and even Wilma had made the long journey. Add in Judy, Ally, Lance, Stella, Dave, Marcello’s brother Stefano, and his mom and aunt, and the crew was all there.
When Marcello stood beside her sister, Lori said, “There’s something that many of you might not know. After Rachel made such a big stink over in Italy, and after having Marcello’s father and the crooked judge thrown in jail for many years, an investigation was started by our own immigration officials. It came to light that Marcello had been living here as an illegal alien for over twenty years. But just last week, his new passport and social security paperwork arrived. Marcello is officially a US citizen now. So, we’re going to celebrate that tonight too.”
Everyone clapped for him. The kids clapped too, but probably because they thought their cake was coming next. Ever since she’d told them earlier that if they could be patient for just a few minutes, they’d each get their own little cakes, they’d been obsessing about it. She should’ve kept her yap shut, but thankfully, so far, they were being good.
After Rachel joined Marcello up front, her sister raised a finger and said, “But that investigation also uncovered another interesting fact. When Rachel and Marcello snuck off to Lake Tahoe to get married shortly after they’d returned from Italy—because heaven forbid my sister plan a romantic wedding—she married a man with false credentials. So technically, they aren’t married.” She turned and faced them. “This is your last chance to run, Rachel and Marcello.”
A soft gasp came from the tables.
When Marcello’s eyes shifted both ways like he was looking for an escape, everyone laughed.
He put the kids down and wrapped his arm around Rachel’s waist. “We just found this out, so we’re going to the courthouse next week to fix it. It’s no big deal.” He laid a quick kiss on her lips. “Right, bella?”
“Well, actually . . . it is kind of a big deal.” She grabbed both of his hands in hers to distract him from seeing the DJ, the cakes, and the photographers arriving on the patio. “I realized after we got home from Lake Tahoe that just because I hadn’t wanted a real wedding didn’t mean that you wouldn’t like one.”
He shook his head. “I’m just happy to be your husband, amore.” The love in his eyes as he looked at her made it hard to speak.
She blinked back her tears. “And I’m happy to be your wife. But since we did it my way the first time, I thought maybe we’d do it your way today.” She gave him a quick kiss. “Marcello, my patient and kind husband, will you do me the honor of marrying me again?” She swept her hand toward the tables. “Here. Tonight. In front of the people who matter most to us?”
The tears in Marcello’s eyes made her lose it too.
“I’d be honored, Rachel.” He leaned closer and whispered, “You touched my heart, bella.”
Hannah tapped on her leg and said at the top of her lungs, “Cake?”
“Yes! Hurry let’s make a circle so Aunt Lori can begin.” Rachel grabbed Hannah’s hand, and Marcello took Ian’s. “We’re all going
to do this together.”
Her sister, who’d gotten ordained online just for the occasion, began the quick service. Rachel wasn’t taking any chances, though. She and Marcello were still going to the courthouse next week as planned to be sure it was all legal this time.
Marcello returned to the backyard after helping Ally tuck his exhausted but happy children into bed. The DJ and all the caterers had packed up, and all their guests had left or gone to bed.
It was time to finally dance with his wife, who’d been busy handling Ian’s temper tantrum when the dancing had begun earlier. By the time she’d returned, he’d danced with Rachel’s mother and Lori. Before he could find his wife, her father had asked Rachel to dance, so he’d danced with Shelby, Jo, his aunt, and even Wilma.
And now she was staring out at the water with her back to him, the music he’d just chosen quietly playing from the house speakers. He stood behind her and wrapped his hands around her waist. “May I finally dance with my beautiful bride, please?”
“Yes, you may.”
“Thank you.” He wrapped her up in his arms and swept her to the middle of the empty dance floor.
“Whoa.” Rachel laughed as she tried to keep up. “You’re pretty good at this, Marcello.”
“Wilma made me take lessons.” He pulled her closer as a slow song started. “This was almost the perfect night, so thank you, Rachel.”
She leaned back and frowned. “Almost?”
He nodded and pulled her close again. “You shouldn’t have caved and let the kids eat cake for dinner. We all paid for that sugar rush afterward. Who knew you’d be the softy when it came to them?”
“If that’s your way of apologizing after I warned you not to do that,” she poked him in the ribs, “then you need to work on your delivery, pal.”
He placed a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m sorry, only because it meant I didn’t get to share the first dance of the night with my beautiful bride. My heart had been set on it.”
“Much better.” She kissed his cheek. “So, where are you taking me on our honeymoon now that you’ve finally gotten your passport back?”
“Anywhere your heart desires, bella.”
She leaned back again and stopped dancing. “Anywhere?”
He nodded.
“Good, because I saw the most beautiful villa in Italy I thought we might—”
“Not funny.” He took her hand and tugged her toward the pool.
“I was just kidding, Marcello. Stop! Seriously. If you ruin my wedding dress . . . ”
He scooped her up into his arms and held her over the water. “What will you do?”
She loosened his tie. “I’ll make you pay for the rest of your life.” Then she unfastened his top button. “Or, you could let me slip out of this dress first, and we can finally do what we still haven’t done yet in this pool.”
“That sounds nice, but I think I’ll take my punishment instead.”
“Why?” Her busy fingers halted, and she blinked at him in confusion.
“Not only because we have too many houseguests to do that tonight, but because you said it’d be for the rest of my life. You’d have to stick around to make that happen.”
“Oh, you’re stuck with me, all right.” She laid her lips on his and kissed him. Slow and sweet with a playful nip at the end. “But throw me in that water and I might just happen to have a headache on your wedding night, pal.”
“Can’t have that.” He turned and started walking. “May I show you the pool house, then, instead?”
“Excellent choice.” She snuggled her face near his neck. “I just figured out why you did that.”
“Why is that?”
“Because all the guest rooms are full tonight. And you can be a little loud sometimes when making love.”
“If that’s your way of apologizing for being the loud one . . . ” he poked her like she’d done to him earlier, “ . . . then don’t. Because I love that about you.”
He wrangled the door open and then set her down.
“I love everything about you, Marcello.” She pushed the door closed with her hand. “Even the mushy parts.”
It wasn’t even six months ago that he would have given anything to hear her say that. “And yet it was you who just arranged a romantic wedding all on your own. Just like in those books you like to read. Someone might be slipping. Crossing over to the dark side.”
“Nope. Just a momentary lapse in judgment. Won’t happen again.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “But I’m glad it made you happy.”
“It did.” He smiled and took her hand, leading her to the bed. Rachel wasn’t just the love of his life. She was the woman he loved spending it with. Always a challenge, but in the best way. He couldn’t wait to see how it all turned out in fifty or sixty years.
About the Author
Tamra Baumann is an award-winning author of light-hearted contemporary romance. A reality-show junkie, she justifies her addiction by telling others she’s scouting for potential character material. She adamantly denies she’s actually living vicariously in their closets. Tamra resides with her real-life characters—her husband, kids, and their allergy-ridden dog—in the sunny Southwest. Visit her online at www.tamrabaumann.com and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/author.tamra.baumann.
Truly A Match (Rocky Mountain Matchmaker Book 4) Page 21
