Italian Knights

by Sharon DeVita

  After checking all the doors and filling out her bank receipts, Annie let herself out the back door and headed for home. The house seemed oddly empty, and after brewing a pot of tea she took it into the living room, pulling up the rocker to stare out the window.

  She wasn’t watching for Sal, she assured herself, frowning at the flurry of activity going on across the street. Florina and Rosina went hustling in the door, followed by Mr. Finucci. Annie frowned. What the devil was going on?

  Sipping her tea, she couldn’t help but wonder what Sal was doing.

  Oh, Sal, she thought sadly. Why couldn’t you have been honest with me? Why couldn’t you just have told me about Tony? She’d thought a lot about Tony the past week. In some ways she understood why he’d done what he’d done. Their relationship would never be classified as a great love. It was quiet, comfortable. He’d been clearly as unhappy as she had been. Maybe unhappy wasn’t the right word. Perhaps it was uneasy. She’d cared for Tony deeply, but she’d loved him more as a friend than a lover. What he’d done hurt, but she understood. He was the one who’d ultimately suffered the most; he’d lost his life as a result of his foolishness. Poor Tony.

  She’d spent hours and hours this past week sitting by the open window and wondering why Sal hadn’t told her the truth. He’d said he’d done it to protect her, because he hadn’t wanted to hurt her any further.

  Could that really be the reason? she wondered. Or had he simply been protecting Tony? Annie wasn’t sure anymore, and her head hurt from trying to figure it out. Whatever his reasons, all she knew was that she still loved him, and always would.

  “Hey, Annie,” Sal called. “You waiting for someone?”

  Startled, she jumped from the chair. Sal was standing beneath the open window, grinning up at her. She wondered how long he’d been standing there, watching her. She also wondered how he could look so good when she felt so miserable. Worn jeans clung to his powerful legs. A white sweatshirt spread wide across his muscular shoulders. His face had healed—most of the bruises were just faint shadows—but his eyes looked lonely.

  Her breath scampered at the sight of him as her eyes feasted on him. It had been so long since she’d seen him, touched him, kissed him. Her heart ached with loneliness for him.

  Oh, Sal.

  “No, I am not,” she lied stiffly, trying to calm the pounding of her heart. “What’s going on at Mrs. Altero’s?” she asked suddenly, and Sal grinned.

  “Come on down and I’ll tell you.”

  “I can hear you from here, Sal.”

  “Are you still angry at me?” he called, climbing up the stairs.

  “I was never angry,” she said slowly. “I think hurt would be more accurate.” Annie shrugged. “What’s done is done, Sal. I’m sure you had your reasons for what you did at the time. There’s nothing we can do to change things now.” She glanced at his profile, loving him, loving everything about him. She’d thought what she wanted was to be independent, not to lean on him anymore. But now, faced with the reality of what she’d wished for, Annie realized it wasn’t what she wanted, after all. What she wanted was Sal. But it was too late; she knew that now.

  “Annie,” he began quietly, needing to clear the air between them once and for all. “I know now what I did was wrong. I should have told you the truth about everything right from the beginning. But I didn’t. What I did, I did to protect you, not hurt you. You’ve got to know, Annie, I’d never do anything in this world to hurt you.”

  She nodded as her eyes filled with tears. No, Sal never would do anything to hurt anyone—not deliberately, anyway. In his own old-fashioned way, he thought what he was doing was right. His intentions were honorable, it was just his actions that were out of kilter. How could she hold it against him for trying to protect her? Annie realized now that she couldn’t.

  “I know you’d never hurt me deliberately,” she said quietly, wishing things were different. She had some pride left. Her love for him and her memories were something she would always have—that was more than some people ever had. Oh, Lord. All this time she’d thought she wanted to be independent. But now she realized, when it was too late, that the harder she fought for her independence, the more she really needed him and loved him.

  “So what’s going on across the street? What’s all the commotion?”

  “They’re…uh…planning a wedding,” he said with a grin.

  “A wedding!” Annie looked at him carefully. “Who’s getting married?”

  “I am.”

  Her eyes flew to his and she almost dropped her teacup out the window. “You’re what?” she croaked, feeling her heart constrict with pain. Her eyes slid closed. So Mrs. Altero’s granddaughter had finally captured Smooth, Suave Sal. Oh, Lord. What was she going to do?

  “Getting married,” he said slowly, drawing out the words. “You know—love, honor and obey, and all that other good stuff.”

  Annie looked at him skeptically. She just couldn’t imagine him getting married. “When is this…wedding supposed to take place?”

  Sal grinned. “I was thinking about tomorrow night. Ryce knows a judge who can perform a private service. I’ve invited everyone from the neighborhood.”

  “Everyone in the neighborhood!” she cried. “I’m so glad I’m the last one to know, as usual,” she snapped.

  “Well, to tell you the truth, Annie, I wasn’t quite sure how you’d react—do you like children?” he asked abruptly and Annie turned to him, her eyes blazing.

  “Now what do my feelings for children have to do with you getting married?”

  “Well, we’ve talked about everything else the past two years, but we’ve never discussed how you felt about kids. See, I’d like to have about six, but I can’t do it by myself. I’ll need some help, so I thought it was a good idea to find out how you felt about kids before we get married. Of course, if you don’t like kids, we—”

  “Before…we…what?” She looked at him incredulously, waiting for his words to sink in.

  “Before we get married,” he called out. “You’re always saying I should tell you things, so I figured, I’d better tell you before the wedding that I’d like to have kids rather than after. It seems much simpler, don’t you think?”

  “Don’t I think,” she cried. “Are you crazy, Sal? You think you can just show up here—after you’ve been on a date with another woman, I might add—and—”

  “I love you, Annie,” he called to her, a wide smile on his face. “I want you to marry me—tomorrow night, if you’re not busy.”

  “If I’m not busy?” Annie stared at him for long silent moments, letting his words sink in. Oh, Lord! He loved her and wanted her to marry him—tomorrow night. This time Annie did drop her teacup, and fled out the door. She ran full tilt into his arms. Sal cocked his head and looked at her, his lips curving in a smile. Their eyes met. Annie stared up at him, her heart filled with love and joy as a full smile lifted her lips.

  “Uh, Annie, yoo-hoo!” He waved a hand in her face until she blinked back to reality. “I know I don’t have much experience with this love stuff, but I think when a man tells you he loves you, it’s customary to say something in return.”

  “You love me?” she repeated incredulously, and Sal shook his head.

  “That’s not what you’re supposed to say,” he scolded, lifting her arms and settling them around his neck. “Now, Annie, repeat after me, I love you, Sal— You do love me, don’t you?” he asked worriedly, and Annie laughed softly, tightening her arms around him.

  “Yes, I love you,” she confirmed, watching his grin slide wider.

  “And you’re going to marry me, right?”

  “But what about Mrs. Altero’s granddaughter? I thought—I just assumed—” His lips covered hers, stopping her words. With a sigh of pleasure, Annie snuggled closer, leaning against him and welcoming his touch. Sal loved her!

  Angling his head, he settled his lips firmly over hers. Her senses reeled in delight and her own hands moved restlessl
y, gently roaming his broad back and shoulders.

  Annie clung to him, whimpering softly at the yearning he awakened in her. His lips moved relentlessly over hers, possessive and demanding. His soft tongue gently teased her, demanding she respond in kind. Her breathing came fast and heavily, causing her breasts to rise and fall against his chest.

  Sal slowly traced the length of her spine with his fingertips. “Annie,” Sal breathed, pulling his mouth free. There was a huskiness in his voice she hadn’t heard before. The rapid rate of his breathing matched her own.

  Sal draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, nuzzling her hair. “Oh, Annie, how could you ever think I’d let you go? I’ve waited my whole life for you.” He drew back and looked at her, letting his hands caress her.

  She met his gaze, her eyes shining with love. There was a loud round of applause, and Annie and Sal turned to find most of the neighborhood hanging out Mrs. Altero’s window, watching them.

  Annie and Sal chuckled softly. “We’re going to have a big old-fashioned Italian wedding,” he informed her, tightening his arms around her. “I’ve invited everybody—”

  “Except the bride,” she reminded him, trying not to grin.

  “Except the bride,” he confirmed.

  “We’re not really getting married tomorrow, are we?”

  Sal grinned and nodded his head. “I love you, Annie. I don’t think I can wait any longer. I’ve waited far too long for you as it is.”

  “But Sal,” she protested. “I haven’t done anything. I need a dress and shoes, and there’s food to prepare. How can I possibly get everything done in less than twenty-four hours?”

  “You don’t have to do a thing but show up,” he announced, grinning at the perplexed look on her face. “Everything’s been taken care of. That’s what all the commotion has been about. My mother and aunt have been working all afternoon. We’ll get married around six; I thought we could do it in your living room if you don’t mind—” He waited for her nod of approval. “I’ve already got permission to close off the street for the evening.” He grinned. “See, I told you everything was taken care of.”

  “But what about attendants, and a dress, and a ring, and—” Sal pressed his fingers to her lips to silence her.

  “What do you think I’ve been doing the past week? Ryce is going to be my best man. As for attendants, would you mind if my mother and aunt stood up for you?”

  “I’d love it,” Annie said with a laugh, wondering why she hadn’t thought of it sooner.

  “Mr. Finucci promised to keep his hands to himself if you let him give you away, and as for a ring…” Smiling, Sal dug into the pocket of his jeans. “Now, Ann Marie Milano,” he said, going down on one knee, “we’re going to do this right.” He took her hand in his, looking up at her with such love, her heart almost burst with happiness. “Will you marry me?”

  Tears blurred her vision and she nodded her head. “Yes, Salvatore, I’ll marry you.”

  Sal turned and flashed a thumbs-up signal to the assembled group, and a loud burst of applause and cheering filled the night air, causing Annie to blush. It seemed fitting. Everyone in the neighborhood was like family. They’d shared so much of her sadness, it was only right they shared her joy.

  Sal took her hand and slipped a small ruby ring on her finger. Annie gasped softly.

  “Sal, that’s your mother’s ring.” She examined the delicate gold design carefully. Rosina had worn the ring for as long as Annie could remember.

  “No, Annie, it’s your ring. That ring belonged to my great-grandfather and has been passed down for three generations. My father gave it to my mother when they got engaged, and when we have a son, we’ll pass it to him to give to his bride-to-be.”

  “Oh, Sal,” she breathed quietly, touched beyond measure. “It’s beautiful.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers.

  “Salvatore,” Rosina called, shaking her finger at him. “It’s bad luck to see the bride the night before the wedding.”

  Sal pulled his lips free. “Annie,” he groaned softly. “You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through this past week. I don’t ever want to go another day without seeing you, or touching you. I love you, Annie. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I promise never to withhold anything from you again. You have to trust me, Annie, do you think you can do that?” Sal held his breath and waited.

  “Yes, Sal,” she said quietly, sliding her arms around his waist and laying her head on his shoulder. “I do trust you. I think I understand why you did what you did, but, Sal, I couldn’t take it if you ever…” She couldn’t put into words her fears, but she sensed that Sal understood.

  “Lied to you?” he finished for her and she expelled a sigh of relief. “Annie, that’s something you don’t ever have to worry about ever again. I know now I should have just told you the truth. I want the kind of marriage we talked about, the kind where we share everything—the good and the bad.” He bent and brushed his lips across hers again.

  “It’s bad luck, Salvatore!” Rosina called again, and Sal and Annie grinned.

  “Annie,” he murmured, looking down at her. “You never told me how you felt about kids?”

  “I love them,” she admitted. “The more the merrier.”

  “Good. That’s going to be the first thing on the agenda—after the wedding,” he clarified when he saw the look on her face. “I have to think of my honor,” he teased, capturing her face in his hands. “I love you, Ann Marie Milano soon-to-be Giordiano,” he whispered, and she smiled.

  “And I love you, too, Sal.”

  He bent and kissed her forehead. “Until tomorrow?”

  She nodded, settling for one brief kiss before letting him go. “Until tomorrow.”

  By five o’clock the next evening Annie’s house was packed with guests. She paced the length of her bedroom, nervous as a cat. Her wedding dress was the simple white silk dress she’d worn the night they had gone to Parillo’s. The pearl-handled combs served as her headpiece and Mrs. Altero had picked a bouquet of summer flowers for her to carry. Everything was done, and now they were just waiting for the groom.

  Florina swept into the room, followed closely by Rosina who kept dabbing at her eyes. “Oh, Annie,” Rosina said wistfully, “you look so beautiful.” The twins were dressed identically in the palest shade of blue. It was the first time Annie had ever seen them in anything other than their somber black dresses.

  “Thank you,” Annie murmured, listening to the commotion from downstairs. “You two look beautiful, too.” Annie frowned. “What’s going on down there?” she inquired, growing more worried by the second.

  “Humph!” Florina huffed. “Mrs. Altero made these little sandwiches for the guests to munch on while they wait. Last time I looked, everyone was scurrying around trying to find a place to dump them. After the wedding, we’re going to have to search the house for those little lead balls!” Annie couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on the older woman’s face.

  “Is Sal here, yet?” she asked, and Rosina smiled.

  “He’s here, sent us up to see if you’re all right.”

  “No, he didn’t, sister,” Florina corrected. “He sent us up to make sure she hadn’t changed her mind. You haven’t, have you?” Florina inquired, leaning close.

  “I haven’t changed my mind—” Annie laughed, “—and I’m fine. Just a bit anxious to get going.”

  There was a sharp rap at the door and Rosina went to answer it. Mr. Finucci stood in the doorway, dressed in splendor. His dark suit was new, his hair was freshly cut, and his shoes were polished to a high sheen. Even his cane was new. It was long and black, with a pearl handle.

  “It’s time,” he grumbled, looking at Annie and extending his arm. Taking a deep breath, Annie had one last look in the mirror and reached for Mr. Finucci’s arm.

  Yes, Annie realized, it was time.

  “Let’s go,” she said softly as the opening strains of the wedding ma
rch filtered up the stairs. Rosina and Florina began their descent, followed by Annie and Mr. Finucci. Annie held her breath as she walked, smiling as Mr. Finucci patted her hand in encouragement.

  Her breath caught when she saw Sal, dressed in a dark gray suit, crisp white shirt and red silk tie. She was certain he’d never looked more handsome. Their eyes met and held, and Annie smiled.

  Mr. Finucci kissed her gently on the cheek, then presented her to Sal. Tears filled Annie’s eyes at the look on Sal’s face. “Are you ready, hon?” he asked softly, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze.

  Annie nodded. “I’m ready.”

  “I love you,” Sal whispered, leaning forward to kiss her. Annie forgot about the guests and the judge and everyone else but the man in her arms. She held him tight, giving him all she had to give.

  Ryce cleared his throat. “Umm…Sal?” After a few moments, Ryce tapped Sal on the shoulder. “Sal!” he hissed. “I believe it’s customary to wait until after the ceremony to kiss the bride.”

  Pulling away, Sal grinned as the guests broke into laughter. Tucking Annie’s hand in his arm, he turned to the judge. “We’re ready,” Sal said, and Annie smiled, her heart filled with love. Yes, they were ready. Rosina was right; it was time. For both of them.

  Epilogue

  “Annie?” Sal whispered, brushing a tumble of dark curls off her face. “Are you still sleeping?” He nuzzled her lips gently with his. She sighed softly and wrapped her arms around her husband.

  “Not anymore,” she murmured with a contented smile. Her lashes fluttered closed again as Sal’s mouth found hers. All too soon, Sal pulled his lips from hers, causing her to groan in protest.

  “Where are you going?” she asked as Sal slid out of bed.