Page 28 of Morally Gray Daddies

“Um…”

Here, I’d thought Gio was the scary one, but I’d take him over his mother any day of the week.

Chapter Twelve

Gio

Standing at the altar, waiting for my bride, I marveled at how quickly my mother and aunt had brought everything together. The whole family was there. Everyone who was in town, at least. They’d all dropped what they were doing to come see me enter the parson’s mousetrap.

Next to me, Jack came to attention as Hailey walked through the doorway at the back of the church. We didn’t have much of a wedding party—Jack was my best man; Hailey was Clara’s matron-of-honor—but the audience was packed. No one from Clara’s side, but my family had filled it in. My mother and father were seated in the front next to my Aunt Serena. An empty chair waited beside hers.

Hailey had let us know that Clara didn’t have any family nearby that she knew of, and when asked, Clara had clammed up completely. I got the feeling she had no one she could rely on in the world, which might be why she’d gotten involved in such dangerous antics.

Well, now she had me.

As she reached the end of the aisle, Hailey smiled sweetly at Jack and gave me a hard look before taking her place. I didn’t mind. I was glad my babydoll had someone who had been looking out for her before I came along. Besides, Hailey had played her own role in getting Clara here today, so she could glare all she wanted. If she stepped a toe out of line, my cousin would handle it.

The organ swelled, the music shifting, and everyone stood up and turned around.

Clara and my Uncle Lorenzo appeared at the end of the aisle. Tomas loomed like a dark shadow behind them, just in case Clara made a last-minute decision to bolt. I didn’t think she would, but better safe than sorry. That was also why my uncle was walking her down the aisle—to ensure she made it there.

If she was still feeling any reluctance, it didn’t show in her stride. She glided forward in a silky beaded dress that fit her well, though not perfectly, with her chin held high. A short veil came down over her eyes, though it did nothing to hide them nor the challenge emanating from her as she met my gaze.

Feisty, indeed.

Her bottom was likely still sore from last night, and yet she carried herself like a queen. My queen.

Jack’s father handed her off to me.

“If you go through with this, I’m going to make you miserable for the rest of your life,” she whispered to me, standing close enough that I would be the only one able to hear. To everyone else, it would likely look like she was whispering something sweet to her groom.

I squeezed her fingers.

“I’m perfectly happy with you giving me a daily reason to punish that sweet little bottom,” I murmured back.

The look of shock on her face as I turned her to Father John was perfect. The priest smiled benignly at us. If he’d heard any of our exchange, he didn’t show it.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”

I didn’t pay much attention to the ceremony. I was far more invested in watching my bride as we were married. The words didn’t matter, other than the ones she uttered—I do.

The feeling of possessiveness that shot through me was as strong as it was unexpected. I hadn’t realized I could feel this strongly about a woman. There would be no more sharing. I’d cut a man’s dick off if he tried to touch her with it. Even though it wasn’t Tomas’ fault, even though I’d been the one to give him permission, I was tempted to go and follow through retroactively.

If he was anyone other than the Ghost, our silent assassin, I probably would have. But Uncle Lorenzo would be upset, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to take Tomas out, to be perfectly frank. Though if he tried to touch her again, we’d find out.

He wouldn’t. I knew that rationally. It was the irrational part of me that was cursing my impulsive decision the other night.

But I really hadn’t thought it would matter.

It was incredible how one tiny statement, uttered by Father John, could change my entire world.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

I pulled Clara against me in a swift, possessive motion, my hand on the small of her back as I bent down to claim her lips. They opened in a gasp, and I thrust my tongue into her mouth, claiming it for my own, kissing the breath from her while several of our audience cheered, only to be shushed by their wives.

Chuckling, I pulled away, and she blinked up at me through the veil, seemingly shocked by the kiss. Whether the passion or the way I’d held her or the fact that I’d dared use my tongue in a church…

Well, I planned on using my tongue in far more wicked ways this evening.

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